Baseball Game #1: The Intro.

There are some kids that are raised on a ball field, and then there are some that have to be integrated into a sport. For me it was the latter, and it all began with my move to Georgia in 1998. No I am not a native Georgian. I am from North Carolina, where football, basketball, and Cheerwine are everything. Now, I moved to Georgia in the month of January, 1998. As time went on and spring was approaching, all I can remember hearing were people talking about how excited they were that the Braves season was about to start. Now at seven years old I had no idea what they meant. I thought they were talking about Indian braves, you know, the braves that are in old stories like Daniel Boone. So with my amazing logic, I assumed that it was where people went to see a Daniel Boone or Davey Crockett show. Remember, I said I was from North Carolina and I went up to Boone frequently where reenactments of those old tales were prided on being the best in the nation. I asked my dad if we were ever going to go see the Braves, and my father replied that he had already bought the tickets.

I was so excited! I couldn't sleep! You can guess my surprise as we drove up to the Turner Field Stadium. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to look stupid in front of my brothers. However, when we got to our seats, which were in the nose bleed section, I couldn't believe how big it all was. Then the game started. I can't remember what the best plays were, I was actually still a bit bummed that I was wrong about the Braves. I do remember that they were playing the Brewers, and that a man was pitching by the name of Smoltz. I remember because I thought Smoltz was some sort of drink, until my older brother said that was the dumbest thing he has ever heard. That is when I went to dad, who is the source of all knowledge, and he informed me as best he could without laughing that he was the pitcher. I still didn’t get it, so I just let it go. I also could never forget that the Braves won. Do you want to know why? Well, this really big man behind me was jumping up and down on the winning play so much that he dropped his beer. Yes, you are correct; from head to toe I was covered in this man's beer. I thought I would cry, it was defiantly the last straw for me. I decided that the Braves were awful and that baseball was a horrid game. All I wanted was to go home.

Looking back I can't help but laugh at myself. I wish I could have seen my facial expression as I looked up at the man who dropped his beverage all over me! But that is what started it all. Since my experience with baseball hit rock bottom, the only direction to go from there was up. These collections of tales are my way of showing that first impressions can often be wrong. I hope you enjoy what is to come. Thanks!