We are lucky enough to live close to a town that is home to one of Cape Cod Baseball Leagues teams. I remember when I was a kid one of the big thrills of summer was to walk from our house to the field where the games were held. The mumbled echoes of the announcer calling out the names of the players and the colleges they played for let us know the game had started and a group of us would head to the field, my brothers with their gloves in hand in case a fly ball came their way. We wiled away many a summer evening at the games and I don't think I ever really watched one too closely. I went just for the thrill of being out at night on my own. The local team holds a baseball camp for kids and I signed Sam and Teresa up for a couple weeks.
One Friday the interns came around and took the kids names down. They were having a drawing and the winner would get to yell "Play ball!" to start the next homegame. Guess whose name was drawn? Sam was the lucky winner and when the intern found out his sister was in camp as well, she said Teresa could join him.
We showed up at the game early. Sam and Teresa were very excited for their moment of glory. At the last minute, the intern asked Katie if she wanted to join her siblings on the field and Katie eagerly nodded yes. So, all three of the kids marched onto the field after the first pitch was thrown out and hollered "PLAY BALL!" at the top of their lungs into the microphone. They felt like mini celebraties. The rest of the night they scootered around the park, ate popcorn and Italian ices and chased foul balls. We left near the end of the 8th inning. Not because they wanted to but because all the grownups were cold and tired. I think the kids could have stayed there all night.