Major league baseball is in your blood, lil' dude.
Especially when it comes to our hometown team.
Mama is named after a major league baseball player- did you know that? It's a fun piece of trivia which stumps people. My grandma S, your grandma-great, has loved our hometown baseball team for years. For decades. I am named after her favorite player, who was a member of the team from 1958-1970. Even though I was born in 1980, Grandma's favorite still resonated with my own Mama, your grandma G., and my name was chosen in honor.
To this day when I call my grandma I can count on three things being the topic of any of our conversations. The garden, the weather, and the Minnesota Twins.
And then, there's your grandpa T. Oh, he puts the FANATIC in fan all right.
Once this summer when your grandma S. and I were going through some of her old memories, we came across a note from her bridal shower, from grandpa T.'s mama, your grandma-great D. She wrote down advice for the new bride to be; who would become her daughter-in-law in 1974. The note said something along the lines of;
To keep T. happy, the rules are simple.
Do not make anything with onions in it.
And don't touch his stuff.
Especially his baseball cards.
Oh, the laugh I got out of that one, all these years later.
Yesterday's game was an important one. The season finale to be played at the Metrodome, the home of the Minnesota Twins for the last 28 seasons. The place people love to hate, and hate to love, it's been part of the Minneapolis skyline for nearly three decades. And we just had to be there with your grandpa T. for the last game.
You see, he took Daddy to the final Twins game at The Met, The Metropolitan Stadium, on September 30th, 1981. Daddy was three years old, not much older than you are now. Grandpa bought us all tickets when they went on sale in the spring, sure to not miss the tradition so rich and steeped with meaning to this family.
The game yesterday did not disappoint.
And you, my little fan, didn't either.
You cheered when we cheered.
You booed when we booed.
You sang when we sang.
You stretched in the 7th inning.
You got your face painted.
You loved seeing the mascot.
You ate stadium food like a champ; hotdogs, popcorn, nachos, licorice, sips of soda.
And you were there, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed until the very last pitch.
I could not have been more proud of you for the way you behaved. Four hours in an insane atmosphere of 51,000+ fans. Without a nap. Without proper room to romp for a busy toddler.
Like most things in my life, I have a bit of nostalgia when it comes to the Dome. It was where I went to my first major league game. It was where you went to yours. It was where I met your grandpa T. and grandma S. for the very first time. It was where Daddy and I celebrated our engagement and proudly showed off my sparkly diamond ring to my in-laws for the very first time.
Next summer, when we take you to a game, we'll be wearing sunglasses and SPF, sipping on slushies.
Or, winter jackets, boots, and drinking cocoa.
Whatever it may be, one thing is certain.
We'll continue to build more and more memories in our lifetime of baseball love.