Well, I wore shorts for the first time of the year today. There's nothing like the sun glinting off my stark bluish-white legs, blinding oncoming pedestrians, to make me realize that spring has finally sprung. (I don't know how many of you watch Southpark, but I'm about 3/4 of a step away from being what Cartman calls a 'ginger'.)
Enough about that. Seriously.
I think this year might be the year Nicholas is big enough (and mature enough) to go on a few scouting trips with his Dad. We tried that once last year, with not-so-good results. He wanted to leave after about an inning, because he was tired and bored, and Dad was watching the game rather than amusing Nicholas. (the CAD!)
That actually leads me to the Big, Dorky Question O' the Day:
How old were you before you were willing and able to sit through and pay attention and understand an entire baseball game?
We lived about 3 hours from Royals Stadium when I was a kid, so we didn't take in a lot of games. In Junior High and High School I attended a few games with my youth group and band (yes, I was a band geek, and proud of it). I don't guess I was 'old' enough to pay attention, because I mostly remember the intricate rating system devised by my circle for rating player 'hotness'.
I think the first game I truly payed attention to was the first one John took me to. Clearly, I wasn't and am not really still a 'TRUE' fan. I always have a great time when we attend, but I like baseball games for the 'John factor' first, the food second, and the game third. I would expect that your answers will be a little younger than mine.