“Take me out to the ball game” is my blog on major-league ballparks and the wonders of witnessing America’s favorite pastime up close.

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Note from Bobby: I know you’ll enjoy this exceptional guest post from my son Brady, a 2014 preaching ministry graduate of Oklahoma Christian University and a lifelong fan of the Texas Rangers. 

By Brady Ross

Most baseball fans vividly remember their first major-league game. For many baseball fans, it was the day they fell in love with the game. They can still recall the first time they saw the freshly cut green grass, and the first time they heard the crack of a bat or the pop of a glove resound throughout the entire stadium. They may not remember the final score, but they can certainly remember who was playing.

I can’t.

I can’t remember my first game. I can’t remember who was playing. I can’t remember the first time I sat in the sun for three hours, yelling my favorite player’s name, singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during the seventh-inning stretch while I ate a hog dog for which I paid a few dollars too much.

However, I don’t resent this. In fact, I consider myself fortunate. Because for me, baseball was always a part of life.

I attended my first major-league game before my first birthday. I’ve heard the story repeatedly over the years: I didn’t make it through the national anthem before the tears started. I spent the rest of that day in the hospitality room at The Ballpark in Arlington, which had opened earlier that year. While I was there, Nolan Ryan happened to walk through the room. It was my first encounter with baseball greatness, and I only wish I could remember it!

Continue reading “‘In reality, baseball is a silly game’ — why one super-fan loves it anyway”