...buy me some peanuts and crackerjack...

I recently saw the As lose to the Yankees in Oakland. I had wanted to see the As play the White Sox in Chicago, but because anything from school work to the weather kept me on campus, I was never able to take the trip down to see a game.

Andrew and I had planned to pack up the Toyota and drive out to Oakland and watch a game We had good seats, and I was feeling good: I was able to wear a sweater for the first time in months.

I wasn't paying attention to the game the way Andrew was, who was calling out the players by name, and leaning in to me to talk about the batters and pitchers as if I would have a valid response. This is when I remembered that the last time I had seen the As play was when my father took me, my sister, and two of her friends to most of a game. We had arrived late and left when the As lost to... I don't remember who.

That was kind of it though: what did I remember and had I forgotten about going out to the ball game?

I didn't remember wading through crowds or the exorbitant prices for a measly cup of fries.

I do remember sitting in the sunshine and looking around the field to figure out what was going on. I remember eating tostadas while my grandpa made jokes about catching the ball with a big foam Athletics #1 hand.

I remember sitting by my father and feeling really good about not being the only one who had no idea what was going on with the game.

"Any family that stays together goes to the baseball game!" shouts Andrew. "One day we'll take little girl to the game."

The most intimidating thing about going to games is coming to terms with the fact that I have no real idea what is going on. I've played these games before in the school yards and in the parks, but it took a lot of effort to learn the game and its rules. It was always difficult to want to learn with the prepubescent shouts of would-be athletes at recess.

I don't know what it is that attracts me to the games then. I normally don't like being within large crowds, but within the ball park, I don't mind nudging elbows, rubbing butts trying to squeeze through the aisles or peeing in the tub-like urinals.

There are smells in the air and there is excitement. Two opposing teams which consist of people who are hired to play the game compete. Not quite a clash of the titans, but for some, sure, the competition between two teams is just that.

When I sit with Mariana through a game, mostly I imagine I'd watch the crowd with her, pointing to people, things and whatever else exciting happens in the game. After all, I don't have to know how to play to know when to cheer, laugh, or yell with the rest of them.

One day I'll take her to a few games. Baseball, basketball, heck maybe I'll even take her to a regatta.

At least there is one sport I know the rules of and compete in!