As the white ball with raised, red stitches softly floated through the air, my only hope was he would catch it.

Francis Beltran stood six-feet, five inches, and carried 255 pounds on his massive, relief pitcher frame.

If he only knew how happy he made a three-foot, 30-pound baseball fan.

It was the tiny Tiger fan’s first Major League Baseball game, and more than likely pictures would have been his only memory.

Now, thanks to Beltran, he will have another token to remind him of the experience that happens only once in a lifetime.

A child’s first baseball game might not mean what it did in the early and middle part of the century, but it’s still a special moment.

However, back then, going to a baseball game was the best form of entertainment available.

Kids couldn’t experience their favorite ballpark on a video game, and seeing their favorite players in person was sometimes the only way to see what they looked like.

There weren’t television close-ups, Internet pictures, or cell phone video highlights like today.

Then, it was either experience the game in person, listen to the radio, or read the newspaper to find out what happened.

A quarter bought a kid a ticket, a hotdog, and an unforgettable experience.

Now, it won’t even by his or her hot dog bun.

Of course, a three-year-old doesn’t care much about money, the Internet, or even video games.

He really doesn’t even care about the game itself.

He likes watching the ballplayers hit the ball just as he does in the backyard.

He likes trying to catch a foul ball even when its 200 feet away.

He likes to dance to the music in between innings.

Contract negotiations, endorsements, and stadium renovations mean nothing to him.

No, what meant something to him was catching that beautiful, white ball floating his direction.

It was his first baseball game, and his Detroit Tigers lost to the Kansas City Royals, 7-3.

In the end that didn’t matter.

Before the game even started, Francis Beltran looked into his eyes and tossed a batting practice ball into the stands.

The three-foot fan positioned his glove (with the help of his dad) and squeezed tight amidst a sea of leather.

Mitchell Norris reached inside his glove, showed his parents the ball, and has barely let go ever since.