You always get a special kick on opening day, no matter how many

Host: The stadium lights hummed to life, flooding the evening sky with electric white fire. The crowd roared, a living ocean of cheers, whistles, and laughter, rising like thunder beneath the open stars. The smell of grass, beer, and peanuts drifted through the air — the unmistakable perfume of hope and memory intertwined.

Host: Jack leaned against the railing of the upper deck, his coat collar raised against the wind, grey eyes steady as he watched the field below. Jeeny stood beside him, hair caught in the breeze, her smile wide and genuine — the kind of smile born not from excitement, but from remembering what excitement once felt like.

Host: The scoreboard flickered, the first game of the season about to begin. Somewhere, a voice announced the lineups, and the anthem began to play.

Jeeny: (softly) “Joe DiMaggio once said, *‘You always get a special kick on opening day, no matter how many you go through. You look forward to it like a birthday party when you’re a kid. You think something