I grew up in Atlanta when the Braves were the worst in the league, and I loved them. At 6, a team’s win/loss record didn’t mean very much, or maybe I’m genetically predisposed to pull for the underdog. I remember sitting down in our seats, hoping to catch a pop-fly, ambivalent about the score. The baseball park was the experience, much more than the game.

I was there as the Brave’s luck changed and the stadium began to fill up. I had a seat for Game 3; it was the pinnacle of my baseball fandom. I’ll never forget the stadium’s frenetic energy wicking off me as I curled up in the backseat of my dad’s Buick, the final roar of the Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium still in my ears.

In the years after, baseball’s shine faded. I moved to Nashville and lost touch with the Braves because I didn’t want the telecast, I wanted the comradery of the game – the group cheers, the shouts, the wave.

The idea of taking Augustine to a baseball game is something that’s been floating in the back of my mind for a while now. It seemed inevitable, a right of passage, but the ballparks in LA don’t feel the same as when I was a kid. The attitude seems more serious, the fans more aggressive. The idea of Augustine never going to a baseball game seemed ludicrous, but it was gonna be awhile before I took her.

When we passed the filling parking lot for the Columbia Fireflies, we all started thinking that maybe we could cap off one of our nights with a ballgame. As we talked, Augustine’s interest was piqued — that set it in stone. We were going to ‘take her out to the ballgame’.

Even from the outside, Segra Park felt like a good choice for Augustine’s first baseball game. An iconic brick entrance way, reminding me of the early 1900s, staff with smiles, a mascot that Augustine loved. We walked in just as the game started.

Taking our seats reminded me of all my childhood Braves games. There was an ease in the air, everyone had one eye on the game but the other on their friends and family. We popped open the boiled peanuts we’d grabbed at the concession and relaxed back.

Augustine watched the game the same way I watch magic tricks – interested in what’s going on but not quite getting how it works. The first few innings were spent explaining the basics of the game – highlighting when to clap and letting her know that being loud is encouraged. Everything seemed to be making more sense to her until around the fourth inning when she turned and asked if the players (standing no more than 20-feet away) were real or pretend.

As the inning changed toward the fifth, Augustine began asking about the Kid’s Zone. So, she and I headed over to check it out while Jade and her Mom settled in for the game.

We never made it back to our seats.

With four huge inflatable play spaces and thee sports-centric games, Augustine would climb out of one and into the next like Jade and I raid Black Friday sales. The first thing she conquered was a giant inflatable slide, which I have seen her back away from on numerous occasions; I was pretty excited to see her overcome her fear. The inflatables dovetailed into the sports games, and I was equally thrilled to see her actually hit a baseball, though her form falls somewhere between a swing and a bunt.

Heading out, Augustine’s first baseball game was everything I had hoped it would be. It was a fun, easy and comfortable for everyone in the family. It reminded me why I loved baseball as a kid, and while Augustine didn’t totally get every rule, we did conquer the wave together, feeling at one with everyone else there that night.

This post was sponsored by Discover South Carolina. All our opinions and experiences were our own.