That first game was between the Braves and the San Francisco Giants. Willie Mays and Henry Aaron. For a kid growing up in Alabama seeing two players who legitimately belong on the sport's "Mount Rushmore", knowing they were from my home state and beginning to learn a bit (I was 9 years old at the time) about what they endured to get there was a lifelong memory. Years later, I had the good fortune to meet Mr. Aaron and recount that story to him. Again, one of the most memorable moments of my life.

Fast forward three years later - I needed open heart surgery as a 12 year old to correct a congenital defect. My first question after coming out of anesthesia was "did Jim Nash get it done tonight"? The milestone I pointed to as I recuperated was a Braves - Reds doubleheader, which indeed we made six weeks later. Sat in the upper deck of Atlanta - Fulton County fifteen rows up and thirty feet to the foul side of the left field foul pole - a long way from the plate. Bob Aspromonte launched the hardest hit ball I have ever seen, which ended up landing three rows shy of us. All I could hear was the ball whistling as it approached - scared me to death. The Braves took the first game of the twin bill and lost the second when Aaron reached over the fence to rob a home run only to have it drop from his glove.

We went to the 1972 All Star Game.The eruption when Aaron hit one out in the first inning was deafening.

The lean years when I was in college. My roommate (a lifelong friend and Braves fan) and I once sat through an entire doubleheader on WTCG - helped by adult beverages - to count how many times they showed this atrocious Union 76 ad (starring Lonnie Pulse) they were featuring that year. First appearance - bottom of the 9th in the second game....

After college, I accepted a job offer in the Northeast - but only after I verified that the local cable company carried what was then becoming "America's Team".

For the next twenty years, I moved around the country - Connecticut, Mississippi, Oregon, Chicago. Through it all Ernie, Skip and Pete were my constant companions - at first through a nightly horror show (remember Captain Twinkie?) and then through a period I never dreamed was possible. I'd try to get to a few games a year, either in Atlanta or the nearest visitors park, but for the most part I missed seeing my team in person through the glory years.

Finally, in 2000 my career brought me to Atlanta - just as our string of post season success dried up. Nevertheless, there were still some good years and I got to make a sizable number of games as a partial plan season ticket holder.

I was at the infamous "infield fly" game - and had Chipper hit a foul ball directly under my seat in what would be the last game of his career. Alas, I placed more value on holding my cell phone that going for the ball with both hands and lost it to another fan.

Now up to current times where the team has moved to SunTrust Park. We are now full season ticket holders, and I pass by the stadium everyday to and from work. Never dreamed I would be able to split my evening commute down the middle, stop and see a few innings (or more) and then head the last fifteen minutes for home.

I've been fortunate to have a lifetime store of memories following my team, but I have one last bucket list item left - to see the Braves play in a World Series game. It's coming - not this year or probably next - but it's coming....

Finally, my oldest son has been my most frequent companion to games over the last ten years. Now an incoming senior in high school, last week he shared with me the essay he wrote for college applications. It was on life lessons learned through going to baseball games with his dad.

Think that pretty well sums up why I'm a Braves fan.

Thanks for letting me share.