Opening Day past to Opening Day present — different — but still memorable

It is one of 162, but Opening Day seems Different

There is something about Opening Day in baseball. It is one of those events each year that you find yourself taking a step back and savoring the moment. Who will be lucky enough to be the starter? Is he nervous? What is the weather like? Will the home team win? Yes, I know it is only one of 162, but this is Opening Day!

Opening Day is defined as the first game for the home team that you root for. By this definition, my memories go back to my teenage years in Michigan where I remember listening to Ernie Harwell and Paul Carey on a small transistor radio that I placed in the wheelbarrow as I raked the dead grass from our acre of yard. “Enjoying the outdoors” probably wasn’t a good way of putting it back then, but enduring this task because my Dad told me to do this became memorable because it was Opening Day. I don’t remember if Jack Morris started that day; or if Kirk Gibson homered or struck out three times, but I remember the day.

Growing up in a small town, and a sports geek, at the time you think about such basic details like, “is it just as cold two hours south at Tiger Stadium” as it is out here, in this yard, raking? Is this wind blowing my grass off the wheelbarrow an advantage to the hitters or the pitchers? Keep in mind that during this time not every game was televised. There was no instant gratification to jump online and find out which way the wind was blowing, or flipping on the TV. You had to build an image in your mind, and then wait until the next day, until about 3 p.m., to read about the experience in the paper, savoring every picture and story about the event.

This Opening Day energy turned up a notch when I lived in Milwaukee. Living a mere five miles from County Stadium, I remember listening to Bob Uecker on the radio during a weekday afternoon and running outside to see if any of the small planes with advertising banners were turning around by our house headed for another pass of the stadium. In short, I felt, how cool is that? The plane passes me, on its way to going over the stadium to advertise to the dudes that the local strip joint is open early and has a special on beer? Nothing like combining childlike exuberance with adult-like energy.

Then, one day it happened. I actually went to Opening Day! It was the perfect “play hooky from work” story that you envision would be the plot to the sequel to Ferris Bueller’s Day off. The boss and I started the day off with work, we then looked at each other in the late morning, and nodded, went to the fridge and packed our beer in the cooler, and headed to the parking lot to tailgate. The smell of brats, the smell of beer, and probably the smell of puke are memories that can never be forgotten.

I did forget who the Brewers were playing. I did forget if it was the last Opening Day in Country Stadium, or the anticipated last Opening Day in County Stadium because of the crane accident that delayed the opening of Miller Park for a year. I did forget the starting pitcher. I did forget who won. But, I do remember the seats, upper deck, first row, third base line. I do remember the cold, and the relief the sun coming out of the clouds provided. And, I do remember the small planes going overhead, advertising the local drink specials.

Family and fifties bring a new perspective to Opening Day. I no longer read every paragraph of the Sunday paper with the special baseball section. In fact, I am not even certain if there is a special baseball section in the paper. (Well, the PDF version of the paper that I subscribe to). I am not certain who is starting for the Diamondbacks, my current favorite team. (Side note: For me to remain a Tigers fan, or Brewers fan would be like still holding a torch for my eighth-grade sweetheart; I live in the Phoenix metro, my team is the Diamondbacks — but this topic can be explored another time).

My Diamondbacks Opening Day experience was several years ago. Colleagues from work were in town from South Carolina. They brought up the idea the day of the game. I was astonished to find that tickets were readily available from the team (not a resale site). What…I thought to myself, Opening Day is not sold out months in advance? I do remember sitting Club Level, about five rows up, and do remember the empty seats around us. They were not late arrivers, they were empty all game. I also remember that it was a night game. It was the same time as any other game that was on a weekday. It was not in the afternoon, on a weekday, where excuses at work or school were needed to attend. There was no vibe that took over the city. Downtown was normal. I don’t remember any planes. I don’t remember if the roof was open or closed. I don’t remember who pitched, or who won. The empty seats and the same time as any other game is my memory.

This year, the game did start earlier than “normal.” It started around 4 p.m. local time. Perhaps this was to accommodate Boston Red Sox fans, who would be watching their team against the Diamondbacks at 7 p.m. their time. Perhaps it was a nod to the fact that Opening Day is supposed to be special. Perhaps someone just decided that this year, against the Red Sox, it should start at 4. It does not matter to me, I certainly did not read the sports pages from cover to cover to find out the answer. Did not even spend a minute to Google and look for the answer. Mostly because it is doubtful anyone really cares or thought about this, like I did.

My Opening Day, 2019 memory? Trying not to be obvious that I was looking over the head of my beautiful wife at the TV, at the Mexican restaurant, as the first pitch was thrown by Zack Godley. Of course, I busted myself, and told her I had to at least watch the first pitch. It was, after all, another Opening Day memory. Each year it is becomes increasingly different, but every year, there is some kind of memory, something that makes the one out of 162 different.