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The year is 1987. A five-year-old boy sits on the couch as his father reads the newspaper, which features a photo of Dale Sveum. The boy receives an explanation about Easter Sunday, but it seems complicated. He just wants oatmeal.
In 1989, the same boy is confused when the announcers vanish during a World Series broadcast. He hears Al Michaels say, 'We'll be right back. Hopefully.' His parents suggest a possible TV signal issue. He hopes it returns soon because he loves watching the World Series. Years later, in middle school, he delivers a classroom speech about the Loma Prieta Earthquake.
Fast forward to 1991: Paul Molitor hits for the cycle, a feat the boy learns about through Bob Uecker's radio call on his bedside boom box. He doesn't know what a cycle is. In 1992, grainy footage from a stadium reaches his Northwoods Wisconsin home as Robin Yount bats for his 3,000th career hit. Sitting on his parents' bedroom floor, the boy feels genuine thrill about baseball for the first time.
1993 brings a trip to County Stadium with his mom and great-grandma. He is overwhelmed by the vivid green grass and the park's beauty. Rick Sutcliffe is pitching, and his last name is similar to the boy's. Robin Yount is there, right in front of him. The Brewers lose badly. It can't get better than this.
In 1994, perhaps, the boy is on a dinghy in Lake Michigan near the breakwall, driven by his grandpa, listening to live coverage of a stadium vote on his Walkman. He knows that if the vote fails, the Brewers might leave Wisconsin. It does fail. Back at McKinley Marina, he is heartbroken.
Still 1994: everyone says they'll never care about baseball again, but that's nonsense to him. Of course he'll keep loving baseball. He's just confused why it had to stop. He doesn't need the Brewers to be good; he just wants to keep watching.
1997: why don't his friends want to talk more about Steve Woodard? 1998: he's driving a Pontiac Bonneville, less than two months after getting his license. It's the first 'new' car his family ever had, and now it's his. The Brewers are in the National League! He is completely free. It can't get better than this.
1999: his family drives past the stadium to see the Big Blue crane collapse. He can't believe it's real. 2001: in college, his parents surprise him with tickets to an exhibition opener at Miller Park. It's one of the best gifts ever. He recruits friends for the two-hour drive to see the new stadium. Later, cold air hits his face as he watches in awe while the stadium roof opens for the first time. It can't get better than this.
2002: his family is moving to Kentucky. He's home for the summer in a small rented apartment. It's tight, but all he needs is a TV in one corner (where the Brewers are losing) and a desktop computer in another (where he monitors the Brewers' minor leagues on Brewerfan.net).
2003: covered in sweat, trying not to fall, he runs along the warning track at Miller Park. He's an intern with the Milwaukee Brewers—the luckiest break and greatest summer of his life. He's the Polish Sausage. He struggles to reach the finish line. It absolutely rules.
2004: as a college senior, he can't get a radio signal, so he follows the Brewers via internet updates. Chad Moeller hits for the cycle (he knows what it is by now). Bill Hall hits a crazy walk-off homer. Chris Saenz throws six shutout innings.
2005: he attends one of the first weddings of college friends. Congrats to the happy couple. The Brewers win on a walk-off balk.
2007: trying to save money in his one-bedroom apartment, he doesn't have cable. Sometimes he gets broadcasts in Spanish. Sometimes he sits in his green Hyundai Accent in the parking space and listens to the radio. The Brewers start the year 24-10.
2008: tomorrow will be the greatest day of his life when he marries his best friend. Tonight, he makes the mistake of going out with friends and accepting all the drinks they buy him, annoyed that the Brewers are losing to the Reds. He doesn't sleep much. He won't be able to have a drop of alcohol on his wedding day. But he makes it, and it's amazing, and it's actually OK that he knows in his heart the Brewers aren't going to the playoffs yet again.
Less than 10 days later, he's covering the final game of the year for a wire service. He knows when Ryan Braun hits that baseball, there's a crowd roar. But in his memory, Braun hits it and there's a moment of silence as he watches it jump into the air. 'Is that really what I think it is?'
2009: there's no cell reception at Denali National Park in Alaska, and surely that's for the best. He's on his honeymoon, a year after the wedding. It's a breathtaking six-hour tour. He'll never forget it. He'll also never forget crossing out of the park, where his phone finds reception and alerts him that Yovani Gallardo has pitched well in a Brewers victory.
2011: she's annoyed with him because he botched trying to sell their Game 2 tickets, so they show up for the game instead. She's five months pregnant and not really up for another playoff game. They're discussing their short list of baby names when Ryan Braun homers in the first inning.
Five days later, he's covering high school football, and Joe Schobert is leading Waukesha West to a win over Arrowhead. It's probably the worst job he's ever done covering a game. Between Twitter and a patchy radio signal, he learns of Nyjer Morgan's walk-off winner.
2014: he's holding his newborn daughter in the hospital. The bases clear on a wild pitch against the Rockies, with Jean Segura scoring all the way from first base.
2018: they leave the game early because their kids are young, and his daughter only wanted to see Bernie Brewer go down the slide anyway. They don't get to see it, but they hear Christian Yelich and Ryan Braun go back-to-back on the radio to end the game, just as they reach the highway near the stadium in their Ford Escape. She cries about that, but falls asleep shortly thereafter.
2019: his son is 7 years old and, for the first time, seems to understand every nuance of what's happening in the game. They watch Ryan Braun's grand slam in St. Louis together in the basement. He's running around like crazy. It's the first time he thinks his son feels a genuine thrill about baseball.
Later in 2019, he's in Washington, D.C., watching fireworks explode in center field as the Nationals celebrate a wild-card win. He squints trying to comprehend how fast everything changed.
2020: he's camping at Harrington Beach State Park with his family. He's following the MLB Draft on his phone. The Brewers have selected an outfielder named Garrett Mitchell. Everything in the world is a mess, but they're OK. Is he selfish to just want baseball back most of all?
2022: a Reds reliever named Reiver Sanmartín throws his daughter a ball during batting practice, and she catches it. Honestly, he can't believe she held on. She's so happy.
2024: the stadium has probably been quieter before. He just can't recall a time.
2025: his son, sitting next to him down the left field line, is determined that Caleb Durbin is going to do something great. He tells him not to get his hopes up. Durbin hits a walk-off homer, and his son turns to look at him with a wide smile. 'I told you so!'
Later in 2025, the Brewers have beaten the Cubs. It can't get better than this (although he'd be curious to find out).
2026: Jackson Chourio slaps a ball up the middle against Mason Miller, and the crowd pop is the loudest he's ever heard. His ears are ringing and, though he's covered his share of walk-off winners and exciting finishes, for the first time, his hands are shaking a little. It's starting to feel like this year might be different.
In each life journey where baseball is a passenger (and sometimes the driver), we get unforgettable moments. Plenty of random ones, as well. But through the ups, downs and randoms, there's one place Milwaukee Brewers baseball has never taken him or anyone his age. That's about to change.
Here's to the memories every Brewers fan will get to make during the 2026 World Series. It can't get better than this.
Originally reported by yahoo.