How I fell in love with Baseball and the San Diego Padres
I wish I could say that my first experience of baseball instantly captured me, laying the foundations for a blossoming love affair with the sport.
In all honesty though, it was rather traumatic.
My first sight of the diamond came on a family holiday to California in 2011, where, at the age of six, I was lucky enough to be taken to Petco Park to watch the languishing San Diego Padres in the final game of a three-game series against the eventual division-winning Arizona Diamondbacks. Already a massive sports fan at the time, I was relishing the opportunity to add another to my arsenal.
However, things would swiftly take a turn – despite the Padres running out 4-3 victors, the game was overshadowed by the discovery of a sesame allergy from an errant hot dog, something I dealt with about as much composure as Bryce Harper or Manny Machado being thrown at.
So, my first experience was a disaster. Baseball would not be revisited upon my return to the UK; those memories keen to be locked away. But it was actually on a trip back to the US in 2015 where I decided that maybe, just maybe, baseball could have one more chance.
This time I became entranced, desperate to watch every game, know every player, learn every statistic in the book. Having prided myself on my loyalty to teams across various sports, I pushed any remaining scars aside and, that summer, decided it was only fitting that I committed to the San Diego Padres.
Once again, though, when back in the UK, I struggled to get into the rhythm of the season. Coverage was not anywhere near the level it is now, and despite doing my best to keep the embers of my interest alive by watching as much of the 2015 season as I could, I faced Scott Boras-style bedtime negotiations with my parents. This presented itself as quite a challenge.
Therefore, my interest petered out somewhat. I did my best to follow the mediocrity of the Padres, and other events in the league, keen to match my dad’s enthusiasm for the sport. But, unlike him, who dined on a diet of dominance living in New York as a Yankees fan in the late 90s, I just couldn’t fully invest in baseball.
That was until the emergence in 2019 of one man: Fernando Tatis Jr. Tatis was, and still is, electric to watch. The home run power, kamikaze (though often effective) baserunning and the gravity-defying plays at shortstop. I was absolutely hooked. Every morning before school, I’d make sure I had enough time to watch the highlights to see how he had stolen the show this time. With El Nino, and now Machado, at the top of the order, that 2019 season became the catalyst for my love of the sport.
Lockdown gave me the time to brush up on my knowledge, attempting to fill in the gaps that my years of absence had left me with. The 60-game season was one which I hold fond memories of despite the NLDS defeat to those bitter rivals up the freeway, it being the first full year I could truly call myself a baseball fan.
My love for the Padres and baseball has subsequently only grown, having been lucky enough to witness a special 2022 playoff series win, a 2024 season which has since become my favourite ever (small sample, I know), and, in true Padres fashion, a spectacular 2021 collapse and a 2023 which promised so much and delivered so little. There is nothing I now enjoy more than sacrificing the occasional university lecture to spend the early hours of the morning trying not to wake my flatmates while I live every pitch. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ve been incredibly lucky since to watch games live at the Blue Jays, Mets, Yankees, and Phillies, all of which were special experiences. Yet my one dream is to return to San Diego and Petco Park, where the foundations for my love for this sport were laid.
This time though, I’ll know to avoid any sesame.
Article by guest contributor Gabe Warren. Do you want to share your baseball origin story with the Bat Flips & Nerds readership of 10,000? Hit the “Write for us” link
Featured image by Matt Thomas/San Diego Padres/Getty Images
