Good idea RJM.
Late '60's... I was probably 8 or 9. Oldest brother was ten years older so we weren't real close but he was taking me to my first real game! We lived a little over an hour drive from Cleveland. He drove me to an Indians game at Old Muni (with the big Chief Wahoo neon sign) in an old VW bug with the floorboards rusted out and mostly gone. I was terrified, watching the highway flying by under my feet. Felt like it took ten hours to get there.
Sam McDowell was the starting P for the Tribe that night. We were there early enough to see McDowell warm up in the pen. The crowd was the usual 750 or so in that cavern of a stadium that held like 80K. I remember the lighting being really poor - almost seemed like in the movie "The Natural". Big brother took me down to the railing over the bullpen where McDowell was warming up. He was bigger than life. Brother egged me on to ask him for his autograph. Several of my loudest shouts went completely ignored. I was sure he could hear me. I was too young to have any idea why he wouldn't at least turn around. Crushed me. Being a lefty myself, and Sudden Sam being the only good thing about Indians baseball those days, I was really excited about being so close to him in person, only to leave with the impression that he was the biggest jerk in the world. I endured... still a Tribe fan, fifty years later and 2,000 miles away.
One of the first games for my kids went like this…
Youngest was the son that had the passion from a very early age. We live on the West Coast. For a while, I had lots of perks for ballgames. I had groomed the youngest to be a Tribe fan like his daddy, even at five years old. (The other two had mild to passing interest in the baseball thing.) He would watch games with me and mimic the players when we hit wiffle balls in the back yard. Once, we traveled back to Ohio and I took the family to a Tribe game, this time, the new fancy Jake. I used my pull and did it up right... preferred parking, big sponsor corporate box seats, etc. I didn't know exactly where the seats were but I knew they were very low and very good. We entered the stadium and made our way to the seats.... kept going lower and lower, closer and closer to the point where it felt like we could touch the infield grass and the on deck batter. Watching the kids' faces, especially the little one, I thought for sure I was scoring big. The game began, all's good, the little guy is really glued to the game and the other two are enjoying ballpark snacks. Then, something I didn't see coming ... he starts focusing on the foul balls... going up over our heads and into the upper decks behind us. Yup, around the 3rd inning, I think, he says in a five year old whiny begging voice "dad, can we sit up there??". Best laid plans. We've shared thousands of games since and he's now a college coach... in Ohio . And, fortunately, I've shared thousands of other things with his brother and sister.