Roger Dean Stadium

We went to a minor league game tonight with a group from the cub scouts. We watched the Jupiter Hammerheads (feed into the Marlins) vs. the Vero Beach Devil Rays (feed into Tampa). I have never really loved baseball. As a matter of fact, I despised the sound of it on TV as a child and even the games I attended in person couldn't hold my attention - but I only recall seeing games in Dolphin Stadium, which is definitely not built for baseball.

I've started to soften a bit toward the game, though, now that the kids are old enough to play; and tonight was a perfect night. The weather was incredible - overcast, dark gray, and possibly rainy to the south - which gave the grass that really intense, green look. The stadium is modern and yet intimate, and the boys, wearing their class A uniforms, scurried quickly into seats behind the dugout along the third baseline. We sat and ate Cracker Jacks and rooted for the home team and the kids that PR pulled from the stands to play the goofy games between innings.

The crack of the bat on the ball sounded so close it made the game exciting. And when a bat broke (and at least 3 bats did), the air just sizzled with the noise - the way lightning does. The boys looked cute sitting with their gloves on in anticipation of foul balls heading their way. Several balls popped up into the stands, pinging around on the aluminum bleachers before being snagged by a child racing to beat out the others nearby. Some flew right over us, past the structure and out onto the street in front of the stadium. (I was really glad we hadn't parked there!) The players could hear us cheer, and we knew that because we could hear what people had to say all the way over by the first baseline. It made me conscious of my words.

After the game, the boys boogied over to the side of the field by the dugout and waited patiently for the players to notice them, and I tagged along to keep a watchful eye. There were some other young moms with their small children with us, who turned out to be the players' wives and families coming down to greet them and kiss them. One of them had a baby only 23 days old. Soooooo cute! Can you imagine the adventure they're living? Waiting to get called up to the majors? Anyway, the boys were really pleased, the players were great and gave them several signatures.

It was all remarkably Norman Rockwell. The smaller venue makes all the difference in the world to me. No wonder this country loved baseball the way it did when my dad was growing up. He still loves baseball. And if all games were like this one, I would be completely hooked as well.