When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time with my grandfather. He was an avid outdoorsman and loved hunting and fishing but what he loved more was his family. He had a tradition. He would have what he called a grandkids outing where he would take all of his grandchildren camping and fishing. To be included in this activity the one rule grandpa had was that the child must be potty-trained.

He would pick up all of the grandchildren that were eligible and off we would go. The first stop would be to a small general store where all of the kids would pick out what we would eat for the weekend. As you can imagine we had a cart full of candy, soda, marshmallows, and any other item we could find where the leading ingredient was sugar. Somehow grandpa would always slide in a couple of packages of hot dogs and buns. I think this was more so that when we returned home and grandma asked what we had eaten he could at least offer some level of adulthood that we had something besides sugar.

Once we got our groceries, we headed out to find a camping spot. This was normally near some creek and river. We would then unpack and the herd of grandchildren would attempt to set up a tent and camp. After that ordeal it was time for the main event, fishing.

Grandpa came equipped with one fishing pole. All of the grandchildren would line the banks of the creek with grandpa at the lead. He would cast the line into the water and wait. This was our cue to “call the fish”. This meant that in unison all of us kids would begin yelling, “HERE FISHIE, FISHIE, FISHIE!” This would continue until grandpa would hook a fish. Once on the line the first child in line would take the pole and reel in the fish while the others cheered. After the fish was landed, the child who reeled it in would go to the back of the line and everyone moved up one spot. It has been over 50 years since those experiences, but I remember them as though they were yesterday.

Thinking back, I have no idea how grandpa did it. He had to have the patience of a saint or he must have lost his mind; I am not sure which. Regardless, that became an indelible part of my childhood. To this day whenever any of the cousins get together that is the first thing that comes up, “Do you remember when grandpa used to take us all fishing?”

This morning two of our grandchildren came to the house, Teigan who is age three and Ryker age one. I was running around the house getting ready for the second exhibition game for the Arizona Diamondbacks, this one an afternoon game. Teigan asked my wife Trina, “Why does great grandpa get to go to the games or you or daddy? Why don’t I get to go to a baseball game?”

There is nothing that will touch your heart quite like the truth and this one pierced my very soul. Why didn’t I take her to a game? Those memories with my grandfather came rushing back and I felt very inadequate. I decided that this was my grandfather moment that I hoped would be a defining memory to a young child. It should be noted; I did not suddenly lose all common sense and decide to take an entire brood of children to a baseball game unassisted. And I am sure that the last thing the other fans needed was a line of children down against the wall yelling, “HEY BATTER, BATTER, BATTER!” hoping a ball would be hit to grandpa who would catch it and give it to the first child in line causing the line to move by one waiting for a souvenir baseball.

But in my small way I was hoping to create a memory with Teigan and introduce her to a game that I loved my entire life. With that dream in my mind I asked Teigan if she would like to go to the game with me. She eagerly agreed and we began to get ready. I decided that like my grandfather I would allow her to pick what we would eat.

Grandpa, this was the best day ever!

-Teigan

When we got to the ballpark, I told her that she got to pick what we had for lunch. Her choices were not much different than those we chose when we went with grandpa. We had a batting helmet full of popcorn, a bag of peanuts, and a large bag of cotton candy. I was able to adult a little getting her to drink water instead of a giant soda which is probably what she would have selected.

We went to the team shop where I let her pick something out to remind her of this day. She chose a pink Diamondbacks hat with a silver sparkled heart on it. It was her new favorite thing.

We made it to our seats where we began watching the game. For each play I would try to explain to her what was happening. She remained interested but had a hard time following the ball. While she might not know which player had the ball at all times she could tell me to the row and seat number where the cotton candy vendor was.

The game wasn’t too far along when I heard that dreaded phrase I was so afraid of, “Grandpa, I have to go potty”. Despite going before we left, I knew the inevitable would happen so off we went. I thought this was an only occurrence of this happening, but I heard that same thing three times in five innings. What I didn’t expect was that we had to go to a different restroom each time. Someone forgot to warn me that Teigan likes to rate and rank restrooms. For the record, according to a 3-year-old who seems to be an expert on public restrooms; the family restroom near section 135 is the best. I didn’t see that in the Diamondbacks media guide.

Despite the number of bathroom breaks; we had a ball (pun intended but we didn’t actually get a ball as Teigan is quick to remind me). Teigan loved the game, was fascinated that there was a pool beyond the right field wall, and thinks Baxter is the coolest mascot on the planet. The Hot Dog Races were “cute” but the Legends racers were “amazing!”

On the way home, from the back seat I heard, “Grandpa, this was the best day ever!” That made it all worthwhile. This little excursion introduced a little girl to baseball, and it has made her a fan for life. She talked non-stop about the next time we go to a game.

Perhaps I have created a monster. She now wants to go to all the games this season. When we got home, I turned on the MLB Network to catch up on the baseball news I may have missed during our restroom rating tour. Teigan sat down beside me, saw what I was watching and said, “Grandpa, we don’t watch baseball on TV; we go to the place to watch it.” One game and she is already a purist.