My friend Matt weighed in this morning with the following guest post about Saturday's game versus the Twins. Enjoy...
Baseball in-game excitement is often in the eyes of the beholder…and these words are no truer than when applied to my six-year-old daughter, Peyton.
Shortly after the sausage race – her personal pinnacle in any game – she batted her big blue eyes at me asking, “Daddy, can we go to the Kid’s Zone?”
Secretly relieved to get a break from screaming Twin fans and the Moreau jerseys positioned right in front of me for the first six innings, I gladly smiled and grabbed her tiny hand as we headed to the area just beyond the 1st base line.
What a delight! Watching the corners of her mouth approach her ears on several occasions was only exceeded by my laughter as she was convinced she’d beat Corey Hart on a timed run to 1st base.
Then off to our favorite … the children’s sausage race of course!
After briefly waiting in line, Peyton’s turn came up and she quickly positioned herself behind the Polish Sausage. After a little reassurance from “Daddy,” she readied herself to push the object twice her size the roughly 25 meters to the finish line.
It was at that moment that some tension returned in me, as an older boy twice her size – and in a bright red Twins shirt and cap, no less – positioned himself behind the Italian Sausage next to her.
“We’re just here to have fun,” I kept telling myself, obviously mildly aggravated about yet another Twins fan encroaching on our Brewers fun.
The stadium staff positioned two other children in the ready position behind the other sausages as they were about to start the race. Peyton’s eyes swelled as he spoke: “On your mark … get set...”
And it was at that point that the big Twins boy got out to an early lead by jumping the gun, obviously motivated to win the race at any cost – even against his younger, smaller opponents. (And Peyton’s dad’s blood pressure began to escalate …)
“...GO!” … and the other three children, including Peyton, start to push their sausages – now well behind the older boy.
Peyton initially struggled, but never gave up, pushing what must’ve felt like the equivalent of a vehicle down the track towards the finish line. Meanwhile, the Twins boy coasted to an easy victory … and smiled, proud of his tainted accomplishment.
But as fate would have it, poetic justice strikes back.
Upon completing his victory, the young lad circled completely around the Italian Sausage to look back on the onlooking observers and admirers. But instead of adoring fans, he was greeted by the lumbering, giant Polish Sausage coming down the tracks fueled on the strength of a 38-pound girl – half his size!
Wap!! He immediately tumbled backward several steps onto the floor. Welcome to Milwaukee!!
Not seriously hurt, the boy went to his father to shed some tears … while this Dad smiled and said to himself, “That’s my girl!”
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