My dad loves going to baseball games, but he’s not really a fan. What he is, is a fan of the atmosphere. He loves ballparks, peanuts, popcorn, and kosher hot dogs. He doesn’t go to too many games, but ever since he’s lived in Houston he goes to a few Astros games a year.
I’m even less of a fan than dad is. I didn’t grow up with a favorite team, or in a city with MLB. I never watched it on TV, though I did, inexplicably, play on my high school team. Still, I usually don’t mind sitting at the park on a nice night once in a while. (I learned my lesson not to go to summer day games in Texas anymore.)
The season is drawing to a close now, and dad hadn’t seen any games so far this year, and this was the last week in his schedule that there would be an Astros’ homestand. So I obliged him, and we took off to Minute Maid Field last night sans wives (much to their relief). Continue reading