On Tuesday night, for the fourth year in a row, my brother, Britt, and I descended on Riverwalk Stadium in Montgomery to watch the Tide and the Tigers duke it out on the diamond in the 11th Capital City Classic.

Being at the ballfield is a blessing in itself, but walking around with an “All Access Pass” swinging from my neck opened up portions of the park I’d never seen in my more than 10 years watching the Montgomery Biscuits play throughout the Summer.

Britt and I made it up to the press box and the adjoining patio just in time to hear the National Anthem belted out after throwing some complimentary snacks down our throats.

While the radio and TV journalists were content to watch the game from the perch beside the press box, my brother and I opted to wander down to the stands and watch the game among the spectators eagerly rooting on their team.

We finally found a couple of seats behind home plate alongside Aubie and the Auburn cheerleading squad and I left to make a concession stand run, leaving my brother to take notes on the game – by the time I returned, Aubie had taken my seat and was shooting photos of the game.

“I leave for two seconds and you recruit a new photographer,” I said with a smile.

Britt laughed and Aubie shrugged, so I snapped a few pictures of the two of them enjoying the game – my brother is a big Auburn fan and he was like a child on Santa’s knee sitting beside the Tigers’ mascot.

We followed the motion of the game, reveling in the fact that we were enjoying the first ballgame of what is sure to be a 2019 full of college and minor league bouts, and recognized that these are fleeting moments.

In a fast-paced world, it’s hard to carve out time for those who mean the most to us and, aside from my wife and children, my brother has topped that list since the day he was born.

We spent every day of our youth together, playing sandlot ball or skateboarding through the neighborhood or strumming guitars, and we don’t take lightly the times we get to spend with one another now that we’re both full-time workers and fathers.

Perhaps that’s the real joy in the pace of a baseball game, the fact that you are able to enjoy the company of those watching the game beside you as much as the action on the diamond.

Celebrate those moments, for they disappear as quickly as they arrive and eventually there’s no more time to listen to the crack of a bat or the laughter of those we hold so dear.