Many of the emails I receive from the dedicated readers and followers of Perfect Game and PG Crosschecker are from proud parents looking for ways and advice as to how they can help their children maximize their potential as they attempt to fulfill their dreams. After all, that is the premise on which Perfect Game was founded.

Over a year ago I became a proud parent myself, and recently I was able to take my son to his first Major League Baseball game.

Being able to take my child to his first game was an incredibly exciting moment for me. I felt like a child myself in the days leading up to that day, getting the same sense of excitement I got when I was younger knowing that I would be going to a ballgame.

From packing up the car to walking up to the stadium, Miller Park in Milwaukee, Wisconsin , every part of the day was a pure joy.

The weather was picture-perfect for baseball in July. The sun was shining bright and there wasn’t a cloud to be found. Miller Park ’s roof was wide-open, and the atmosphere was electric due to a sell-out crowd as the Milwaukee Brewers hosted the San Francisco Giants.

I can’t tell you much about the game itself, other than a pair of two-run home runs in the first inning by Ryan Braun and Corey Hart off of the Giants’ Barry Zito. Usually when I attend games my focus is affixed to the action on the field, but on this day my attention lied elsewhere.

I watched my son’s own excitement as we approached Miller Park , as we entered the stadium, walked through the turnstiles, navigated down the concourse, entered the seating area and found our seats. Any new experience is an exciting one for him, but on this day he was taking an incredible amount in, wide-eyed and bushy tailed all the while.

We were lucky enough to sit six rows behind the visitor’s on-deck circle, amidst the heckling fans taunting the opposing San Francisco Giants. Barry Bonds didn’t play this game, but I was sure to tell my son, named Henry in honor of the legendary Henry Aaron, the historical importance of the home run race, even if he is still far too young to understand a word I was saying.

My wife and I didn’t know what to expect. We both knew it could have been a quick game for us, as Henry had only a half-hour nap before the game, and his attention is span is that of, well, a one-year-old.

Henry managed to last the entire game without an ounce of anxiousness. Between the game itself, of which he motioned to sit on my lap several times throughout the game to check out what everyone else was there to see, the giant scoreboard, the blimp that flew over Miller Park and the girls he flirted with that were seated behind us, he managed to find enough things to capture his interest.

In other words, he took in the game just like most everyone else does.

I don’t remember my first ballgame specifically, although I do know it was during the 1980 season at County Stadium, and immediately I grew to love Cecil Cooper as the fans roared “COOOOP” every time he stepped up to the plate, with a unique batting stance that I always tried to emulate, hoping that some day I could be just like Cooper.

That wonderment led to a passion, and fortunately for me my interest in baseball was growing at an opportune time as the Brewers were being built for their eventual World Series appearance in 1982.

Now, I’m not going to push baseball onto my son, but it would be surprising if he didn’t have interest in the game as he grows up given the amount of baseball I watch, listen to, write and talk about (which my loving wife can attest to).

For now I get to enjoy watching the top prospect for the 2024 draft blossom into the young little man he has already become.

And as Henry got to “root, root, root for the home team,” the Milwaukee Brewers treated him to a victory. Not a bad way to start his professional career as a fan.

The thoughts and opinions listed here do not necessarily reflect those of Perfect Game USA . Patrick Ebert is affiliated with both Perfect Game USA and Brewerfan.net, and can be contacted via email at pebert@brewerfan.net.