Sunday, October 22, 2006
The stairs went straight down. I mean straight down. What looked like thousands of feet below us, was the field. I held onto the handrail that ran down the middle of the isle with both hands as I climbed down to my red seat. And that's about all I remember. I was seven years old.
I'd love to tell you a romantic story of my first baseball game at Dodger Stadium. About how I saw the green of the grass, or that Garvey hit one out, or even what I ate. But the truth of the matter is that kids don't usually have the foresight of marking a milestone with a mental tag. At least I didn't.
I have since been going back, one way or another for 26 years. I've never caught a foul ball or a homerun, nor have I seen a no hitter.
This last year I sat in the upper deck for the first time since my first time. I held onto the handrail with both hands. I don't know if you know this but those stairs go straight down. I mean straight down.
I've had this camera for about two and a half years now and I've been taking her to Dodger Stadium for three seasons. These are some of the pictures I've compiled in that time. If you're an expert fan, you should be able to discern when most of these were taken.
If you're an expert fan...