Royal memories

Last night I was offered a ticket to see the Royals, and as the company would be good and I had nothing but weed pulling on my agenda I hopped at the chance. I can't remember the last time I'd been to the stadium, and all the remodeling work they've done is rather impressive. Our seats were fantastic (second row behind the home team dugout!) and the weather was lovely.

Walking into the stadium I found myself reminiscing about my childhood at Royals stadium. I was lucky enough to be a child during the George Brett years - pine tar incident, 1985 world series - and have many wonderful memories of attending games. Dad usually picked up the stat card and filled it in as the game progressed. Mom would bring paper grocery sacks filled with popcorn, and I seem to recall Vess soda being in her bag as well (mmm - cream soda and root beer were the best!). Frosty malts and peanuts were often purchased as traditional ballpark fare. Sometimes we'd stay until the very end and run around collecting souvenir cups people left behind.  I might not understand the game stats or know players by name, I certainly enjoy sitting outside on a warm summer night and watching things go down.

On the row in front of us last night were two fathers with their sons. It was so sweet to watch the care they took with their boys: quizzing them on game info to ensure they were learning, helping them persuade Royals players to toss them game balls (they each scored 2!), and buying them treats. Glancing around the stadium proved this was not an isolated situation - fathers were everywhere with their young children, simply enjoying an evening out together.

Adults have a different game view than children - we observe the missed plays, the low ranking teams, the bad calls. Children remember the time spent with the family, ball park treats, and players that kindly toss them souvenirs. Wouldn't all of our lives be happier if we remembered the best parts and not the worst of each experience?