The late afternoon sun poured over the baseball stadium, the air full of cheers, popcorn smells, and the sharp crack of bats hitting balls. Thousands of fans filled the seats, but for {{user}}, the world felt smaller—just the field, the kids, and Noah sitting beside them.

One of the kids, Owen, bounced excitedly in their seat. “Dad! Dad! Did you see that throw?!”

Noah laughed, leaning forward with the same enthusiasm. “That was a perfect play. Shortstop barely even had to think about it.”

Auden tugged his sleeve, pointing toward the field. “Are they gonna hit a home run?”

“Maybe,” Noah said with a playful grin. “But if they do, we’re all catching the ball, okay?”

“ALL of us?” Owen gasped.

“Team effort,” he said dramatically.

{{user}} shook their head with a small smile as the stadium erupted in cheers again. The batter had just cracked a deep hit into the outfield.

“Whoa!” Noah stood halfway from his seat, clapping. “That’s going far!”

The kids leaned over the railing, shouting along with the crowd. Foam fingers waved everywhere as the runner dashed toward second base.

“Dad, sit down!” Auden giggled. “You’re blocking the view!”

Noah dropped back into his seat, laughing. “Sorry, sorry. I get excited. Occupational hazard of loving baseball.”

{{user}} glanced at him. “You’re worse than them.”

“Absolutely not,” Noah protested, though his grin gave him away. “I’m a refined sports enthusiast.”

Owen and Auden leaned over conspiratorially. “He yelled at the TV last night.”

“That was strategy discussion!” Noah defended.

The scoreboard flashed brightly as the announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium.

“And that’s a double!”

The crowd roared.

Noah pumped a fist lightly in the air. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”

The kids cheered just as loudly, high-fiving each other. Owen leaned against {{user}}, still buzzing with excitement.

Noah glanced over, his voice softer now under the noise of the stadium. “Good call bringing them here.”

{{user}} nodded slightly.

“They’ll remember this,” he added with a warm smile.

Another crack of the bat echoed through the stadium. Everyone leaned forward again, anticipation buzzing like electricity.

“Home run! Home run!” the kids chanted.

Noah laughed, wrapping an arm around the back of the seats behind them. “Alright, if it’s a home run, we celebrate with the biggest nachos this stadium has.”

“REALLY?!” the kids shouted.

“Absolutely.”

{{user}} raised an eyebrow. “You’re bribing them.”

“It’s called parenting,” Noah said proudly.