It was a great day as Owen, his dad, and grandpa went to the ballpark this past Saturday to cheer on their Yankees. Of course, it would have been a better day if the Yankees had won, but the trip was memorable nonetheless.
Owen's first MLB experience began with a commuter train ride in from Mom and Dad's house to Chicago's Union Station. Following a quick lunch downtown it was time for our second train ride of the day, boarding Chicago's El for a subway ride that would take us to the White Sox' U.S. Cellular Field for the ballgame.
For Owen, the day couldn't have started better. He loves trains and had a wonderful experience clickety-clacking his way to the ballpark.
It was an atypically cool August 1, with rain showers and temps checking in only at 68 degrees at game time.
We arrived with plenty of time to check out the stadium and the terrific view of downtown.
The woman who took this picture was absolutely tickled with the three of us. "Are you three generations?" she asked. When we said yes she said, "That's wonderful!" Indeed, I think Grandpa and I felt very lucky to be having this day together.
Owen was, admittedly, a bit more nervous with his new surroundings. He gave his belly button a good workout -- his calming mechanism in new situations. And I have to admit the pre-game fireworks, music, and general hoopla were pretty overwhelming.
He was really tired. I carried him out of the ballpark and we caught the subway and then the Metra back home.
The Yankees lost 14-4 ... but I think we won regardless.
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