A guest post all about the great American tradition and experiencing it through our children.

For the past three weeks, I have been known around the house as “Chase Ug-ley” and my son has been answering to “Jayson Werth.”  We have Phillies Fever – and we have no clue what we will do for bedtime wind-down when the World Series is over.

During the regular season, baseball seeps into our lives thanks to Pop-Pop, who brings over souvenirs from time to time – commemorative gear, stuffed mascots, etc.  But watching this postseason has been a true family event night after night, and for that reason, whether the Phillies repeat or not (as I write this, they need 2 more wins), our memories of the series will be fond ones.

The obsession has certain benefits – the other day I convinced my son to let me cut his fingernails by explaining that Jimmy Rollins’ mommy used to cut his nails when he was a little boy.  The greatest benefit, though, is the opportunity to experience something that’s old hat to us through the eyes of a rookie.

Our little man’s understanding of the game is basically limited to the tern “home run,” and he can identify most of the Phillies players (Werth is the one with “crazy hair”).  He doesn’t know which stats matter, he doesn’t know about bad calls or why pitchers need at least three days’ rest.  He has no knee-jerk distaste for the opposing team.  He doesn’t even really get winning and losing.

For him it’s about helmets and stadiums, new people with names that are fun to say (Raul Ibanez, Shane Victorino!), and with jobs that are important enough to get them on television.  He likes to “run around the bases” in the family room, swinging his little bat, and tossing his soft baseball.  The magic that has mesmerized generation upon generation of fans is powerful enough to captivate even a 2-year-old – and that reminds us adults to stop and appreciate the athleticism of the players, and the genius of the game.

Someday, my son will find himself disappointed in the home team and angry at the challengers (and if he stays a Philly sports fan, that will happen a lot, I’m sorry to say!)  But hopefully he will also have an occasional moment of the pure, unadulterated joy he felt watching the 2009 championship with his mom and dad.

–Michelle Eisenberg