Last night the boys went to their first Red Sox game. Well... technically, I guess it was their second. When they were infants, their naive first-time-parents made the mistake of attempting to bring them to the game. We never made it through the second inning. The boys screamed from all the noise. I remember saying at the time, "Let's try this again in 5 years." Well... here we are! This time we got there a little late and found our seats during the bottom of the second...and we made it through the rest of the game. So I guess you could say they've seen a complete game now. Their experience last night was complete with hot dogs, overwhelming crowds, plenty of cheering, a stadium full of crazy fans singing "Sweet Caroline" (to which my boys also said they had learned in music class- what kind of music teacher do they have at that school anyway?), and best of all a big Red Sox win! (Actually, it was more like a homicide. In the sixth inning the Red Sox scored 12 runs with zero outs)!
All in all an exciting experience for two six year olds to file away in their memory bank. Aaron, who was a bit apathetic to it before seems to have taken a new interest in baseball and some of the players. Joe spent the entire day today practicing hitting wiffle balls off the T. I think it's cute. Though I don't have as much fervor for the sport (I take issue with the many whiny players who make an ungodly amount of money and then cheat by using steroids...but that's a whole separate topic), I don't mind the kids taking a healthy interest in baseball. (And I emphasize the word healthy). It just seems like one of those things that little boys are made of!
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