Temps don't cool fans' enthusiasm

It seemed like a good idea at the time.
For years, when springtime rolls around, we’ve tried to take in an early minor league baseball game. Sometimes in conjunction with Mothers’ Day, and more often timed with my wife’s birthday in early April.
So when daughter Sally said she was coming home for a visit on Connie’s birthday weekend, a baseball game seemed to be in order.
It was especially appropriate because the Fort Wayne TinCaps were playing their season home opener on Saturday.
As I said, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Even though we’ve had a chilly spring, the forecast when I bought the tickets was for 45 degrees for the first pitch.
And then, as the date got nearer, the forecast kept changing. The mercury kept dropping.
We awoke to find snow on the ground Saturday morning, and my good friend Steve Ogborn sent me an email to alert me there was an inch of snow at his place in Fort Wayne.
Not exactly baseball weather.
We figured we’d bundle up, but there’s only so much bundling you can do.
The game was set to start at 6:05 p.m., and it was unpleasantly cold at noon. All three of us kept revising our clothing options as the day progressed. I pondered wearing a down parka at one point, but mostly kept adding layers.
We headed north — wrapped up in assorted long johns, sweaters, fleece, and winter coats and carrying two blankets — about 4:30 p.m.
About 15 to 20 minutes later, somewhere around Berne, it started to snow again. And there were flurries when we arrived in Fort Wayne.
Much to our surprise, there were plenty of people just as foolish or just as diehard as we were. Jackets and sweatshirts had replaced T-shirts as game attire. Toboggans had replaced baseball caps on many heads, including my own.
For the record, it was about 35 degrees when the National Anthem was played, though it felt more like 28. And it didn’t get any warmer.
Though the stated paid attendance was something over 5,800, my guess is there were only about 2,000 of us shivering at Parkview Field. The rest had the good sense to watch the game on television, something I suspect I’ll suggest when next spring rolls around.
But the fans who were there were good fans.
We noticed that they were far more into the game than the usual crowd. These weren’t once-a-year-outing folks; they were baseball fans.
Like us, they’d ventured out because they love the game and they hoped to be rewarded.
The reward was in doubt at first, with the TinCaps giving up their first run of the home season on a passed ball/dropped third strike that allowed a runner to score from third base.
“That may be a bad omen,” I said to no one in particular.
But I was proven wrong.
Before we knew it, the TinCaps were taking charge. Timely hitting, aggressive base running (including a double steal), and a pair of home runs, one of them for three runs.
It was just about all you could ask for.
Except for the cold.
By the fifth inning, my toes were telling me it was time to go home. Connie said she was fine, then realized she couldn’t feel her toes at all.
We left after six innings and listened to the wrap-up on the radio as we headed home.
And with the heater in the car going full blast, we were warm about the time we reached Decatur.
By the time we pulled into the driveway, we were ready to do it again next spring.