Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Not growing up in an area where a major league ballpark was readily accessible, my memories of going to ballgames as a kid are of the Salt Lake Trappers. I loved the Trappers. Back then, the Pioneer League seemed like it was so important. It didn’t matter that the league was on the lowest rung of minor league baseball. I always knew where the Trappers stood in the standings. I remember the season they won 29 straight games. I remember promotional give-aways like the mini wood bats, and the navy blue plastic helmet with a Trapper logo and the removable brown “head-sizer thing.” Then there was my Trappers hat that blew off my head one day while riding the Heber Creeper, never to be seen again. Some of my greatest baseball memories are of sitting on those old bleacher-style benches on a warm summer night in the nostalgic glow of the lights; (lighting like that can only be found at the parks of small-town minor league teams) or watching foul balls fly over our heads and out of the stadium, and thinking how great it would be to spend a game just outside the park collecting real game balls. I remember the huge Tiger’s Blood sno-cones, peanuts, and Red Vines. It was at a Trappers game where it first occurred to me that I could bite the ends off of a piece of licorice and use it as a straw for my Sprite. I also remember standing and singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame during the seventh-inning stretch with my family, just happy to be at the ballpark, watching my team.

The Trappers were only around for eight seasons. After the 1992 season, Salt Lake City tore down the old Dirk’s Field and built and brand new ballpark which came with a brand new AAA minor league team, just a step below the big leagues. Somehow I never quite seemed to care as much about the Buzz, or the Stingers. When the team’s name changed again before the 2006 season to the Salt Lake Bees, my wife and I went to a few dozen games and felt a small connection, but it was never quite as magical as it had been with the Trappers.

Now we are in Kansas City and the Royals are our team and I found some of that magic at the first game I attended. I had been to a few major league games in the past. I saw the Rockies in Denver during their inaugural season. I saw the Oakland Athletics and the Baltimore Orioles during one trip to California, and the Anaheim Angels during another. I even had the chance to see Roger Clemens pitch for the Houston Astros against the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field. But, none of these experiences stirred the boy inside me like my first trip to Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City. For whatever reason that nostalgic feeling came back to me.

That’s one of the reasons why baseball is such a great game. It’s not just a game, it’s an experience. It’s following your team and reading the box scores. It’s taking in a few hotdogs, some soda, nachos, a few scoops of ice cream, and maybe a pile of chili-cheese tots. In other words, an entire month’s worth of junk food in one night. It’s taking your glove to a game just in case a ball comes your way; showing up extra early to see the visiting team take batting practice; and staying late to wait for an autograph from the guy who slugged two home runs for your team that night.

When you are young, you might not understand everything that goes on in the field, but you will remember those muggy nights at the ballpark. You will remember your dad coming back to your seats balancing roughly 13,000 calories in a small drink tray, and how great it all tasted. You may even remember how mythical your team’s heroes seem. But most importantly, you will remember the magic in the air. And if you’re lucky enough, you’ll be able to capture that again later in life.