Our latest travel adventure was a short trip to Peoria, Arizona. I know that sounds random, but it’s not. We make the same drive every March to celebrate the start of the Major League Baseball (MLB) season.  We have some dedicated Padre fans in our family and spring training has become an anticipated tradition. We spend time together, see a few games, try different restaurants, and visit with friends. The time flies by way too quickly and typically ends with a vow to stay longer in the future.

Instead of taking Howie (our RV), we opted to share an Airbnb with my son and daughter-in-law. Peoria is about a six-hour drive from our home which isn’t too bad for an extended weekend. Phoenix, Glendale, and Scottsdale are all fairly close by, with each city offering its own unique flavor and activities. And because it’s March, the weather isn’t too insanely hot. The days averaged 75-80 degrees.

Why spring training? Because there is something magical about the start of a brand-new season. It’s like New Year’s Day, only better.  Prior disappointments have faded, and there is a renewed optimism for the future. The players look energized and the fans are giddy with excitement after enduring a long off-season. The environment is also much different than a regular season game. Parking is easy, the stadiums more intimate, crowds much smaller, and local vendors provide yummy food. Players are easily assessable to kids (big and small) who want autographs or photos for their collection. And best of all, the final score doesn’t matter. Win or lose, it’s an all-around great day.  

I became a baseball fan when I was ten.  It wasn’t something that was passed down from my dad; he had zero interest. No, it was my Aunt Mary who took me to the stadium during the summer and taught me everything about the sport. Of course, living in San Diego, she was the original Padres fan.  She was a walking textbook filled with information about players, statistics, and history.  She was the only female role model in my life who loved sports unapologetically.

Some of my best childhood memories include trekking up the flights of stairs to the nosebleed section to watch a game. Two dollars covered admission, a hot dog, and a cold drink. I loved everything about the experience: warm summer nights, the crack of a bat making contact with the ball, the roar of the crowds, and the bright lights that framed the pristine baseball diamond. What’s not to love? It’s America’s greatest past time for a reason.

What’s even better is that I now get to enjoy the game with my family. I’m even hopeful that my grandchildren grow to love the sport and embrace our spring training adventures. Family traditions (in whatever form) are important. They keep us connected and provide a common interest that can span generations. So, lets’ play ball! Spring training was a blast and and we’ll definitely be back next year.