** All of these pre-February 2016 blog posts are reposts from my last website. Each repost has a quick update or note in bold at the start of each post! **
Originally published April 20th, 2012
“Is it always like this?” It wasn’t the question that hit me, it was the way that my wife had asked it.
About 5 years ago we went to our first baseball game as a family. I’d already been to Cheney Stadium with Megan to watch the Tacoma Rainiers. She’d lasted all of 5 pitches her first game, and made it thru all of her second game thanks to a steady diet of hot dogs and cotton candy. Maddy was barely a year old, but I desperately wanted to get us to a game all together. It was a tough morning for timing. I remember pushing to go to the game, even though by the time we were ready to leave my wife and I were both on edge. I wanted that “feeling” you get when you step into the park. It felt important, like it was something that we had to do, that like it or not we were going to a game as a family! Looking back even that day, it could have been a recipe for disaster. The weather wasn’t great; it was overcast, cold, and threatening rain. Maddy was a year old and wouldn’t remember the game. Why was it so important?
We hadn’t made it to our seats when we had to stop. I know what you’re thinking. Bathroom? Something to eat? Bounce house? No, it was Ben Cheney. Ben Cheney died in 1971 after years of supporting local Tacoma athletics and creating a baseball tradition by bringing Pacific Coast League baseball to the city. He’s immortalized as a statue sitting up from homeplate, complete with a bronze program and peanut shells on the ground. Megan referred to him as “The Peanut Guy”. She wanted to see The Peanut Guy before she could take her seat. She took the steps up to the statue and reached up to the bronze peanut bag in Cheney’s hand, pinching at a nut on the top and then pretending to eat it. Snacks in hand, we headed to our seats.
The game started like you’d expect. The team took the field and the first few pitches were thrown. Someone got a hit, or maybe they didn’t. I don’t remember. But, what I do remember is what happened next: Megan cheered. She was paying attention to the game. But it was what she did next that really hit me. She was explaining the game to her sister! You have to understand, Megan wasn’t even 4 years old and Maddy was barely 1, but here she was telling her sister what team she wanted to win.
“Is it always like this?” It wasn’t just what she said, or how she said it. It was more than that. Amy had a look in her eyes when she asked it, like all of a sudden she understood the feeling I was trying to get from the day. I shook my head “No”. It hadn’t been like that before, but from that day 5 years ago until today, it has been.
For years the girls have made a tradition of visiting The Peanut Guy. We sit next to Ben Cheney on the chipped wooden chairs, 50 years of paint peeling underneath, and pretend to grab a handful of peanuts. We’ve been to 4 consecutive Opening Days at the park, and are there every July 3rd in the parking lot, sharing parking spaces and a BBQ grill with my sister, her husband, and now their daughter. We’ve been there in the sun, in the rain, and everywhere in between. We’ve even slept on the field. Cheney Stadium is a second home for us starting every April.
There are things you see in a Minor League park that you just don’t get in a Major League one. There’s a sense of community. You can walk the concourse and see people you know or recognize from your last game or even last year. It’s the nod you get from a player on deck. It’s the casual conversation you have with a player next to the dugout, or the way a player waves or says “Hi” to a kid in the stands. It’s the way that almost every adult that gets a foul ball hands it to a child.
Support your local Minor Leagues! Take your kids to a place where they can learn the game and have a great time. Get your picture with the mascot. Get there early so your child can meet a player that they might watch when they get older and “remember when”. Stay late and watch the fireworks or run the bases. The Minor Leagues are more than just the game, it’s the experience and memories that will stay with them long after you’ve lost that stub or scorecard.