Baseball has always been a part of my life and some of my earliest memories are games at Candlestick Park with my mom and dad. The game taught me many lessons as I grew up; lessons like patience, practice, and determination.
At eight I gave up dance and gymnastics for basketball and softball. The latter became my sole sport because I always felt most comfortable on the diamond. When I was twelve I won home field advantage for my team because I was the only one on either side that knew Barry Bonds’ single-season home run record was 73.
Once I moved to San Francisco to study broadcast journalism, AT&T Park became my second home. I would take public transportation to the ballpark after class, buy a six-dollar ticket and sit in the bleachers by myself. Baseball is fun with a group, but it can be an escape when you’re on your own.
I heard about an internship with the Giants through school in 2009, applied and scored an interview. While I knew next to nothing about the production part of the video board, I got each baseball answer correct and began one of the greatest years of my life with the 2010 San Francisco Giants. On the final day of the regular season I watched Brian Wilson strike out Will Venable to secure the NL West title. Running out onto the field with the cameraman to wrap cable while the team celebrated was something I will never forget.
I may not be phenomenal at statistics or history, but my love of baseball is up there with the best of them. It’s the emotion of the game that I admire. The feeling of your team driving in the winning run in the bottom of the ninth – A’s fans certainly know what I’m talking about.
It’s the instant respect that washes over you when you see one of the greats like Mays or McCovey show up on your television screen. It’s the agony of defeat making success taste that much sweeter. It’s little things like the crack of the bat, a freshly chalked diamond and the smell of the dirt after it rains.
It’s baseball. Giving us a momentary escape from everything else in the world and teaching us lessons we keep with us forever.
I love this game.
Past the Warning Track 
Ally! I could not agree with you more. I was a 7 year bat girl for my brother’s little league team when my dad was the coach. My little uniform with the number one was my most prized clothing. I loved it!! I think I cried when it was taken away at the end of the season, but at least I got to keep the hat. My dad would help me field grounders in the backyard and would describe what was happening on the imaginary field as I chased a grounder that had gotten away from me. I would scramble for the ball and come up with it and fire home and I always got the guy as he was sliding into homeplate as Dad would triumphantly shout, “Got Him!! He’s out!” Everytime I think of it it makes me smile. Time spent outside with my dad and brother! Memories are what makes Baseball special…
I love it! I was never a bat girl. Your story is so cute!
My dad would do the same thing! We’d play with imaginary runners and situations and I would have the best time…except once in my front yard when I missed a pop fly and it landed right on my face. Such a wonderful sport!