What’s the best age to take a kid to the ballpark to get the most out of the experience?

It is a wonderful thing having a son.  I enjoy taking my son to places and events that I like, with the hope that he’ll experience things that will excite him, too.  He spent his first day at the beach when he was six months old.  He was not quite two when he saw his first major art exhibit, where he cracked everyone up by looking at a nude by Matisse and yelling, “mommy!”  And this past week he saw his first professional baseball game as a five-year old.

People were surprised that I waited so long to take him to a baseball game.  Perhaps I waited until he was five because that was the age I was when I went to see a game for the first time and I still have a lot of memories about that day.

My dad worked two jobs and the last thing he would ever dream of doing was to take me to a game.  My oldest brother took me.  He was and is a Dodgers fan and we saw a game when they played the Mets.

I remember being terrified as we cross the Verrezano-Narrows Bridge (I’m still not fond of bridges to this day).  I remember my brother asking me what kind of seats we should get.  He went through and named all of the different levels, but I had no idea what mezzanine or lodge or any of the other words he used were.  Then he said box seats and I immediately said I wanted those because I thought it meant we were going to sit on a box.

We got upper box seats and I remember being scared about falling out of my seat for the first couple of innings.  When we got to our seats, my brother asked me if I thought we could get any foul balls.  I told him I thought Willie Davis might be able to hit one that high.  In hindsight that was a pretty good answer for a five-year old, knowing one of the stars on the opposing team.  Willie Davis hit .305 that year.

Now, I was a baseball fan and I knew several of the Mets and at least one Dodger, but let’s be honest - I was five.  I really wasn’t ready to sit in a seat for the two-to-three hours that the game was going to take and my brother was aware of the situation.  He kept me entertained by buying something from a vendor virtually every inning.

Now, we didn’t really have snacks or treats at home.  Shoot, just spending the day with my big brother was a giant treat all by itself.  So to have hot dogs and soda and ice cream and peanuts and everything else that the vendors were selling was tremendous.

I know that the Mets won, but I can’t tell you anything about the game.  I remember the car ride and the seats and the food - that’s what made an impression on me.  And I was a big fan already.

So, it was with a bit of trepidation that I took my son to see a game.  He’s watched parts of games on television with me and he’s in his third season of playing ball at the YMCA, so he know a little bit of what’s going on.

But it’s an activity to do - not one to sit still and watch.

A buddy of mine from Boston was in the area and we met for a Grasshoppers game.  I asked if he would mind if I brought my son and he said that would be fine.  When we got to the stadium, I had my son sit in the seat between the two adults, figuring at least that would keep him contained somewhat.

We made it for all nine innings.  And yes, we went through a fortune in snacks.  And they didn’t even have vendors coming by - we had to go to the concession stands.  And there were three trips to the bathroom in a span of less than 30 minutes.  It was Thirsty Thursday at the park so at least he wasn’t the only one on that bathroom pace.

I wonder what, if anything, he’ll remember from the game.

Will he remember holding his ears when they shot off fireworks when the home team hit a home run?  Will he remember the souvenir program with the names and numbers of all the players?  Will he remember the discussions we had about how the lefthanded batters (we watched them intently as my son has a pretty nice lefty swing) set up in the batter’s box, how they stood, how they held their back elbow and how they swung?  Will he remember the mascot?  Will he remember the between-innings entertainment?  Will he remember sitting on top of the giant ball sculptures they had outside the stadium?  Will he remember my friend with (to him) the funny sounding accent?

Or will he remember something I said or something that we did that I’ve already forgotten?

And most importantly, will he remember it as a good time, something that he wants to do again?  Will it be something that he falls in love with, and spends countless hours engrossed in throughout his life?  Will it be something that he dreams about taking his kids to one day?

There’s no way to know those answers yet.

Right now, superheroes are much more important to him than baseball players.  And that’s all right with me.  I’m pretty sure he was the only kid in the park wearing an Indiana Jones hat.  He would have brought his Indiana Jones whip with the sound effects if I had let him.

But I got to introduce him to something that’s important to me.  While I hope it becomes a lasting memory for him, I already know that it’s one for me.  And if it never becomes more than that, it’s still a great day in my book.

Meanwhile, thanks for taking me to my first game, Mike.  It made a giant impression on me and I’ve never been the same since then.