For the Love of the Game

Monday, July 28, 2008 ·

As a die hard sports fan, I want to be able to share my passion with my sons one day. I want to buy them plastic Phillies gloves, Brian Westbrook jerseys, or that plastic Flyers hockey kit. I want them to play with the Phanatic doll, wear their favorite Philly tee shirt, and get dirty playing football in the yard. But there is one thing I want the most and I'm sure every father who loves their Philly sports will want to do this for their son.

It's taking them to their first Phillies game. I remember my father taking me to Veterans Stadium when I was 5 to see the classic '93 Phillies team. He made the mistake of getting me cotton candy and soon watch that sugar is the crack of a 5-year old.

I would stand on my seat and yell for "Inky," "Kruker," "Dutch," "Dude," and "Eisy." I loved Pete Incaviglia, John Kruk, Lenny Dykstra and Darren Daulton. I remember Mariano Duncan, Curt Schilling, Kevin Stocker, and Kim Batiste. These were the players that stood out most to me.

I didn't know it at the time but it's safe to say that Joe Carter ruined my childhood.

I was hooked. When baseball season was winding down, I was putting on my starter Randall Cunningham jersey. Later when they went to midnight green, I would rock my Ricky Waters and Mike Mamula jersey religiously.

I also remember growing up watching the Legion of Doom and one of my Philly heroes in Ron Hextall.

But what's the point in my nostalgic moment? I can't wait until I can pass down the tradition my father passed to me that was passed down to him from his father, who I sadly never met. I want to be able to catch a foul ball for my son, spend $30 bucks on a hot dog, peanuts, cracker jacks, cotton candy, ice cream in the souvenir helmet, and 2 sodas. I want to buy him a mini-bat, baseball cards, and anything that will leave a lasting impression on him.

I want to hear him one day yell out Chase Utley's, Ryan Howard's, or Cole Hamels' name. I want to take a picture of him hugging the Phillie Phanatic, who then sticks his tongue out at him, making him either laugh or cry because I don't know how a 6 year old mind can comprehend that green fur ball (hell I can't either).

This experience will open up new doors for his love. It has for me. Growing up I was a huge baseball card collector. I still have them in the shoe boxes, cigar boxers, wine boxes, binders, or anything that can keep them safe. I have game used balls, bats, and sticks. I have signed photos and other things. I want to be able to one day give that him.

But I also want to take his hand as I'm walking around Lincoln Financial Field during the Eagles Carnival so he gets autographs of some scrub player who he will portray as a super hero. When I was little I didn't care if you were the 3rd string QB or the back up kicker or some guy that won't even make practice squad. If you were wearing a jersey, you were the man.

They say you shouldn't relive your childhood through your son. Well that's not what this is. This is sharing a piece of your heart with your son, your future best friend. This passing of tradition is what keeps the love of the game alive.

1 Comments:

Bill P said...
July 28, 2008 at 11:05 AM  

Wipe your cunt Rooooooooose.

I took my kid to a double header between the Phillies and A's back in June of 2002. First Flyers game(reg. season) last year against the Bruins, and Jets vs Eagles preseason game in 05.

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We Hate to Lose began in October 2007. The initial purpose of the website was to provide news updates and commentary on all four major sports teams in Philadelphia. Because of time-constraints, in April of 2009, I decided to post only on my first-love, the Philadelphia Phillies.

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