Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

50/50

Last night I took two little boys to a Cardinals game. It was their first experience and I wanted it to be perfect, or as good as it gets with a 3 ½  year old and an almost 5 year old. We pulled into the lot downtown and the stadium loomed over us. That was their first impression – a huge place with thousands of people going through the gates. That made them speechless for a while as we made our way through the concourse to the team store. Now Cameron has a new Wainwright shirt and Xander will inherit the Goldschmidt shirt that is too short for Cameron’s tall, skinny self. I tried to explain the significance of a Wainwright tee shirt but there was no frame of reference for Cameron to understand its import.

We waited in a long line to check out of the store and boys were getting impatient for something different to happen. Cameron declared that he was tired. Xander wanted to be carried. We finally got through the line and headed for our seats. 

I will admit that I paid more for the seats than I probably should have, but we were about 20 rows from left field and had a decent view of the outfield. So we settled into the seats and waited for some action. What came next was action alright, but not the kind one hopes for at an outdoor game. The sky looked ominous. Suddenly there was a warning on the huge screen that a storm that had lightning involved was coming and would we please leave the seats and head inside. Then the raindrops started so we hurried up and got under cover in the concourse.

By this time, one child was very hungry and the other very thirsty. We were near a concession stand but there was another really long line. When it’s time to feed children one does what one has to do and in this case it was to join the line. A menu choice was decided on – a jumbo hot dog and chips, and a pretzel and a sprite. We shuffled slowly along and when we got to the counter, there were no more hot dogs or pretzels left. Oh-oh. Jackie and I were trying to decide what to do next. Suddenly, the concession gods smiled upon us and out came some hot dogs and pretzels. 

Now we had food but no place to sit and eat it. We could see through the openings in the stadium that the rain was pouring down, almost sideways. It would be a while before any game could happen, if ever. We stood next to a pillar, out of the way of the hordes of people milling around and Jackie opened the bag of chips. There ensued a little scuffle about who was getting more chips and who wouldn’t share and who didn’t like the hot dog at all. 

An hour later the all clear was called and we went back to the seats. When the game started I gave Cameron as much of a baseball lesson as he would tolerate. The littlest guy was more interested in dancing in time to the loud music. I tried to explain what was happening on the field, but it was hard for Cameron to see the action. About three innings in I opted to leave the joint and travel to Ted Drewe’s for frozen custard. That was a hit.

This morning, their mother asked the boys if they liked the game and they enthusiastically agreed that they did. Cameron spent an hour drawing a detailed picture of a pitcher. Then he drew a likeness of FredBird. For a four year old, he can capture the essence, if not the proportions, of his subject. 

I guess that means that the 50/50 like or dislike proposition came down on the positive side. It was worth every penny.

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