Opening day baseball.
I just love it. Baseball=summertime. Ballgames=a life of ease. Something kind of funny about my dad is that he was so determined that we (my brother and me) become culturally American, to the point that there really isn't that much about him or I that is culturally Brazilian. I'm kind of a chameleon that way. I noticed this again when Amy and I were in Mexico. To them I was always Hispanic first so they would automatically just speak to me in Spanish, which was fun, but made me realize that I need to work on my Spanish again. I digress...
One of the things that my dad pushed us into was baseball. Americans play baseball, we were going to be American, therefore we would play baseball, which was great. Except that I hated it. We never played before getting put in our leagues, so I just didn't have any of that kind of coordination so I was terrible at it. I quit, begged to be put in soccer, and stuck with that the rest of my life.
Then a few years later I just got all the way invested into it. I never played in leagues again, but I went to a few baseball camps, and we'd play everyday in the summers. Seriously, every day. Turns out much of my youth was spent obsessively playing sports, for which, I have absolutely no regrets. I started collecting baseball cards which my mom later sold, unbeknownst to me until it had already transpired. That broke my heart.
With all of that, I just love baseball now. There is nothing more summery than going to an Angels game, buying a hot dog, and watching them play in the warm but temperate Southern California summer sun. I can't wait until I can play catch with my kids and do all of those fun American things.
In certain ways I really wish my dad would have incorporated more appreciation for his own culture, but he did push me strongly into American culture, and for that, I really am so grateful.
My heart literally skips a beat when I hear this song playing at the stadium. Even just hearing it now makes me kind of teary-giddy like a little kid. I just love it.