If, like me, you come from an immigrant family, chances are professional sports weren’t a big part of your life growing up. Obviously, you were committed to the World Cup every four years, maybe your family followed some international soccer leagues and perhaps you even watched the Superbowl every year, but Sundays probably didn’t consist of eating buffalo wings and drinking beer while watching the Redskins play. At least in my family.
So this past Saturday was a momentous day. We went to our first professional sports event as a family. Yes, it’s true, on Saturday July 27 2013, a bunch of Colombians went to a baseball game — a match up between the Nationals and the Mets to be exact. To be fair, not all parties involved were Colombian. My sister, my cousin and I were born in the U.S, but none of us grew up watching/following sports. And there were two full-blooded Americans among us:
I went to my first baseball game over the fourth of July weekend during a recent trip to New York and I loved it. I found it wonderfully all-American and entertaining, so my sister and I lobbied to get my entire family to check out a baseball game at Nationals Stadium so we could all experience this most American of American pastimes.
It didn’t exactly start out all-American. We packed six people in a Toyota Camry Colombian style — and while that might not seem so bad, I’m more of a two-person-in-the-back kind of person. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable 29 mile ride into D.C, but gas is expensive nowadays and you gotta save where you can.
We met my sister and Mike at Garfield Park, a nice park walking distance from my sister’s place in Eastern Market. Mike grilled us some tasty hamburgers and provided some home-brewed beer. Then we played some Bocce. It was Young People against Old People and the Old People dominated.
It started out as a beautiful day for a baseball game. My mom and Aunt Elsie got a little tipsy and looked like they were having a grand old time, even though no one except my sister, Mike and Glenn had any idea what was going on. The rest of us were just there for the show. Not being Puerto Rican, Cuban, Domincan or Venezuelan, we don’t really know much about the actual rules of baseball.
We were in the eighth inning (and the Nationals were winning) when suddenly it started getting cloudy. Mike warned us we should run for cover ASAP, but we ignored him. This may have been as a result of having too many drinks or maybe we were just hoping for the best.
So all in all, a great Saturday with my family despite the rain! Maybe we’ll even try a football game one of these days.