When I was young my dad took me to my first Phillies game at Veterans Stadium. I don't remember all that much about it. I probably had some reading material stowed in my bag, just in case I got bored. I remember the awe I felt at being in the presence of one of my heroes: the Phillie Phanatic. I got to see Mike Schmidt, my favorite player, reach over the fence to catch a foul ball instead of letting that kid catch it. (I no longer think it was selfish of him.) Dad bought me a program and a miniature baseball bat, which I probably still have somewhere. Most of all I remember how it felt to walk for the first time into the park, see the lights, and more people than I had ever been around, all cheering.
The Phillies lost to the Mets that night. And last night they lost to the Nationals.
The Vet is long gone, but Citizens Bank Park is a heck of a place to see a ballgame. And this time I was the dad, and my daughter was experiencing not just her first Phillies game, but probably her first baseball game of any kind. She didn't have much idea of what was going on, but she did know the crowd was cheering, and she got really into it. She learned how to chant "Let's go Phillies!" which from what I'm told by people watching the game at home, got her some airtime on TV. And she loved seeing the "green monster" dance around on top of the dugouts.
It was magical.