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Brent's Corner

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The crack of the bat, the smell of ballpark food, the sounds of the vendors and the man sitting next to me my father at Scottsdale stadium is a memory I will always remember and cherish.

My father Alan Cruikshank introduced me to his favorite sport baseball, when I was a kid. There are pictures of us playing catch in our backyard when I was very young. If you read my previous columns I mentioned I played little league through eighth grade.

This sport was not for me but this column is not about my baseball career, this column is about the years I spent with my father watching his favorite past time.

I grew up in Arizona, and we didn’t have a Major League Baseball team until 1997. Before we had a professional team my dad and I would attend spring training games in March. I always brought my glove to catch a foul ball but never had any luck.

I looked forward to getting a hot dog and sharing peanuts. I would talk to my dad about the upcoming season and about the changes the teams had made with players since the previous year.

This was what you call a father and son bonding moment. When spring training was not being played we would watch the AAA team, the Phoenix Firebirds, play. This team played at the Scottsdale spring training field where we attend the San Francisco Giants games.

In 1997, when Major League Baseball became a reality in Arizona he bought four season tickets to the Diamondbacks. I was with him when the roof opened up during the opening ceremony of the first ever game played on Chase Field.

Baseball is a sport that gets my father’s attention with the crack of the bat. Years have gone by and it is tougher for him to get around to the games and he lives in Henderson, Nevada part-time, which led me to write this column after attending a Giants game a few weeks back.

On the way to the game my dad turned to me and said he will not be renewing his tickets to spring training next year. He has had great seats over the years with a great view of the ballpark and just two rows behind the Giants’ dugout.

I didn’t always make it to the games with him but when I did I enjoyed the time together while enjoying the food, drinks and the game. My father and I will possibly attend another game together but most likely in different seats if we do. This is just another one of those chapters that closes in your life.

A few years back my father canceled his season tickets to the Diamondbacks and as we left the stadium after the last home game that year he looked at me and said it was sad.

Again, we did attend a couple of Diamondback games the following year but it wasn’t the same. You knew everyone around you including the guy by the entrance of where your seats were.

I do plan to take my dad to a Diamondback game this year if he can make it. He loves the game and it makes me sad that the Parkinson’s can hold him back sometimes.

I didn’t tell my dad what my column is on but I want to say this to him:

“Dad, thank you for all those years of memories. We will get to another game or two but until then I want you to know the moments at the ballgames mean a lot to me and I will always cherish the father and son moments. I am planning to come up in July to catch my favorite basketball team the New York Knicks play summer ball in Vegas so be ready. It’s not baseball but another father and son bond.”