This post could easily have been about an opportunity lost.  At just about any other time, it would’ve focused on John Maine’s erratic pitching (O runs allowed but only lasting 5 innings), another blown save by the bullpen after tempting fate all weekend, Damion Easley’s rally killing double plays, and the lack of clutch hitting in general.

While those are valid topics all, this post focuses on something special.  On Monday, I had the opportunity, along with my brother, to take two kids to their first major league baseball game.  This was actually a repeat attempt of a trip to the ballpark last August.  That time, we made it to PNC Park for my first trip there but the game was rained out with nary a pitch being thrown.

This time the weather cooperated in fine fashion as it had all weekend.  My brother Mike’s nephew, Grayson, and niece, Santana, were on their best behavior and suitably excited.  It was a pleasure to buy them Pirates caps to wear, point out the intricacies of the game and the ballpark, and just watch them taking in all the sights and sounds.  By the end of the game, they knew when to cheer, when to yell “Charge”, and what the different types of rythmic clapping meant.  If I had to choose a game over the weekend that the Mets had to lose, this would have been it.  All kids should get to experience that feel of winning in their first major league game, the better to possibly cultivate baseball fandom in what is truly a football first town.

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