Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

What is it about this scene that is so completely Summer?  Is it the green grass?  The bright sunshine?  Or is it the memories the image invokes for so many of us, of things that aren't even in this picture?

The savory smell of hot dogs and fries.  The satisfying crunch of peanut shells cracking.  A cool, refreshing gulp of beer.  The sudden hush of the crowd for the split second between the time the ball leaves the pitcher's hand and when the batter decides how to handle the delivery.

Perhaps your summer baseball memories aren't even of the actual game.  Maybe you remember the feeling of anticipation as you and your family squished into the car on your way to the stadium, your nerves only calmed by the comforting feeling of the well-worn leather mitt held safely in your hands.  In those days before DVDs, iPads, and hand-held gaming devices, how did you keep yourself occupied during that seemingly never-ending car ride?  Did you daydream of how it would feel to hold out your hand and actually catch a foul ball?  Did you imagine what kind of goofy face you would make if you suddenly saw your face on the big screen in the outfield?  Maybe the excitement wasn't just limited to your imagination.  Maybe the whole family was involved - rattling off the latest statistics, talking about last night's game, who was going to be pitching that day, or stewing over that terrible call the umps made in the bottom of the sixth at the last game you all went to.

Maybe your baseball memories don't even involve a huge stadium.  Perhaps you remember the feel of the grass under your bare feet as you played catch with your dad in the backyard.  Maybe you can still smell the musty couch you sat on while watching a baseball game on TV at your grandparent's house.  Did you collect baseball cards, more for the gum than the faces pictured on the little rectangles of cardboard?

Nowadays, how do you Do Baseball?

Are you still moved by the national anthem?  Everyone standing, taking off their hats, putting their hands over their hearts, absentmindedly trying to fix their hat hair and wondering if the singer will be halfway decent.

And then, for just one moment, all eyes are focused on that red, white, and blue emblem just beyond the outfield, blowing in the hot summer air.  For just one moment, the pride is palpable.

Play ball.

Do you already have your food and drinks?  Or do you wait for the third inning lull?  Do you leave your seats to grab some grub or do you flag down the brightly-clad vendors running up and down the aisles, yelling about beer, cotton candy, peanuts, and the like?  Do you remember to grab another beer before the stands close down at the bottom of the seventh, or do you end up casting jealous glances to the couple sitting in front of you who remembered to stock up and are still sipping happily at the bottom of the eighth?

What kind of fan are you?  Are you loud and obnoxious, screaming at the players as if they'll be able to pick out your voice among the thousands and thousands of other shouts?  Do you sit quietly, jotting down the stats in the trusty notebook your dad gave you for your birthday, at the game where your celebration was announced on the big screen?  Did you come to the game with a big group or just a special someone?  Do you have matching jerseys?  Do you even root for the same team?  Are your eyes glued to the field the entire time or do you go more for the sights, sounds, and energy?

Do you actually get up and stretch during the seventh-inning stretch?

Do you stay for the whole game, or try to beat the traffic by leaving an inning or two early, confident that the score won't change, and even if it does, it won't make that much of a difference?  Or are you a tried and true fan, there to the bitter end, even if it means waiting through seven extra innings for that fateful moment when the crack of a bat signals that it's time to remember where you parked the car and calculate how much sleep you'll be able to sneak in before work tomorrow?

How do you Do Baseball?

Root, root, root well.