Do you remember your first Big League baseball game? I do. I was seven years old and my grandfather took me to see the one and only Detroit Tigers! I idolized my grandfather and for him to take me made the experience that much more special. He loved the Detroit Tigers - he loved all Detroit sports in fact. He had a room in his house dedicated to sports memorabilia. It was his office but, I remember calling it the “baseball room”. The room is no longer filled with sports memorabilia but I cannot walk into it without going back two decades. Your very first baseball game is almost overwhelming to your senses. The smell of peanuts, popcorn, hot dogs, and stale spilled beer. The sound of the vendors wanting you to purchase their product, the cheers from the crowd, the crack of the bat, or the smack of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt. I was so excited to be at Tiger Stadium with my grandfather, that during the National Anthem, as I stood there in front of our amazing seats behind home plate next to my grandfather who had his hand over his heart, I puked all over myself. When I was a child, I would get so excited about something that I would get an upset stomach and become ill. It would come out of nowhere. Grandpa just looked down at me with concern in his eyes and asked if I wanted to go. “No Grandpa, I want to stay.” Grandpa bought me a Tigers shirt so I wouldn’t have to wear a vomit laden shirt all day. It was grey Jersey shirt and had the old school Tigers symbol on the front, and to this day I still own that shirt. It was a special day. I saw my favorite Player, Cecil Fielder, hit a home run. I saw Cal Ripken Jr. on the field. And I remember that the Tigers won.