Summer of Baseball

Baseball used to be my favorite sport. From the time I was 10, and I went to my first Braves game and got my first Chipper Jones jersey (which I have to this day), I've loved the whole atmosphere of the sport. There's no place quite like a baseball park, especially in the middle of summer.
My college experience at The University of Alabama converted me to football, which is my very oxygen in the fall and now holds the position of "favorite sport" for me, but Fall is coming, and so are all the football blogs. This one is about baseball.
I guess my Summer of Baseball started without my planning it when I spent a week in Houston taking my brother to his little league games. Not quite on the same level as The Braves, but hey, those kids are the future major leaguers. The intentional kickoff of Summer was the first weekend in June when I went to see the Braves play the Phillies at Turner Field. Walking up to the gates and breathing in deep the smell of hot dogs, beer, grass and wet dirt put me officially in a summer frame of mind. I love seeing everyone walking around in their jerseys, inevitably seeing names of players who haven't played for the Braves in years. I love seeing the little kids on their daddies' shoulders and wondering if it's their first game. I love seeing Alabama caps and Georgia caps and Tennessee caps and realizing we can all agree on at least one thing and for once (and only once) we can cheer for the same team. But the presence of these hats shows even when we're in baseball mode, we still have to make it known where our football loyalies lie. Two Bama fans can high five each other and give a "Roll Tide" right before high fiving a Georgia fan over a Braves homerun. For a few months, we can live in harmony.
I ventured into minor league territory next, going with my best friend to see the Birmingham Barons play the Tennessee Smokies. The level of baseball isn't quite the same, but the atmosphere is the same. The crack of the bat, the pop of the ball in the catcher's mit, the cheer of the crowd, it's all there and all part of what makes baseball so wonderful. After trying unsucessfully to "check out" the players from our seats, my friend and I decided to go in together to buy a program so we could better pass judgment on cute and not-cute baseball players. Ultimately we decided the Smokies players (from afar) looked cuter than the Barons players, to our disappointment.
A couple of weeks later, it was back to Turner Field for Braves vs. Royals. My record number of Braves games in one summer is a sad 2, and I hope after tying the record so early in this season this year that I can set a new one this summer. Bring on the Braves vs. Mets in August! I've wanted to see this matchup for years, ever since I developed a dislike of the Mets when Tom Glavine left the Braves to play with them. Every summer in years past when I went to my last game of the year near the end of the season, leaving the game, walking away from Turner Field always made me blue. That sad feeling of the end of summer walked out of the park with us, everyone carrying their foam fingers and tomahawks home to pack them away until next year. I'd go home and put away my Chipper jersey until baseball started up the next season. One year during a game I dropped a glob of nacho cheese down my jersey and neglected to wash it off before packing it away, so the next June when I dug it out, there was last year's cheese dripped down the front.
But this year, not only did I get a quick and fierce start at my record, but I've dubbed this summer my "Summer of Baseball," and 3 games does not a "Summer of Baseball" make, so I've got places to go and games to see. Take me out to the ballgame!