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My Son’s First Baseball Season

My son, Micah, was born on October 8th of last year. So, technically, he was around for most of the postseason, but he was, uh, a little preoccupied. (As was I!) He’s still kind of preoccupied with most of the same pursuits — he’s sleeping on my chest as I write this right now, after his third breakfast of the day, if you want to arbitrarily call breakfast anything that gets eaten after five in the morning. But now that he’s able to pay a little more attention — a little — and is very interested in looking at whatever it is I am looking at, I expect it will be hard to keep his eyes away from spring training baseball, as much as I’d like to be able to say he has never seen even a flicker of a television screen. (Does it count as screen time if it’s on mute and I keep turning his head to face in a different direction?)

So I ask you, fine readers, how does a new parent like me set the stage for lifelong baseball enjoyment? I don’t care who he roots for, or if he roots for anyone at all, but in a few years it would be nice to have a little pal to take to the ballpark every so often. (Even if he only wants to be there for the bobblehead doll giveaway.) And even better if he wants to grab a team in my fantasy league, because maybe I’ll be able to bribe him with toys to get him to trade me his best players.