MILWAUKEE — It's not my job to root for the Milwaukee Brewers but to report on them, win or lose.

But this afternoon, Father's Day, I will be rooting during the game that will be played after the Brewers face the Minnesota Twins.

My attention will be focused on right-center field, where the big Boys of Summer will be playing a game with the future Boys of Summer.

These games move to the big field after day games. They are held in the clubhouse after night games. I see the sons of the players engaged in pitching, hitting and running the bases, just like Dad has done just before them.

There is a regular crew of participants.

The two sons of first baseman Prince Fielder, who already show signs of Daddy's power.

The son of pitcher Yovani Gallardo, little Yo as he is called, who could be his Dad's twin if it were not for the height discrepancy.

The son of right fielder Corey Hart, who dressed in his pajamas is capable of missing a pitch by a mile and then smashing the next one, just like Dad does.

The two sons of reliever David Riske, infielder Craig Counsell and pitcher Ben Sheets, whose youngest has yet to join the fray but doesn't look too far behind.

Pitcher Seth McClung might even be there. McClung is single and doesn't have any children, but he has become the unofficial day-care provider for these clubhouse games, soothing hurt feelings and minor boo-boos.

I especially enjoy watching these games as I wait for players to emerge from their postgame workouts or meals to talk about what happened on the big field just moments before.

It's not unusual for reporters to gather around a player and have a plastic ball whistle past us as we ask our questions. We've even been forced to circle a player behind a post in the middle of the clubhouse just so we don't get in the middle of a raging home run derby that has home plate in the corner of the clubhouse.

Sometimes it's hard to tell who is having more fun, the little kids or the big kids, especially when the elder Sheets keeps hanging underhand curveballs to the sluggers of the future. I know it's fun for me on the occasion that a little Fielder or Gallardo hands me a ball and walks a few steps backward with a glove outstretched awaiting a toss.

These games remind me how we as adults can pass on our child-like love for this game.

I'm reminded of how I used to watch a 12-year-old named Craig Counsell work out at County Stadium with his dad, John, then a member of the Brewers' front office. Every time Counsell now mentions to me how he is old by baseball standards at 37 and soon to be 38, I ask him how that is supposed to make me feel at 55 with 56 not so far away.

Yet these moments bring out whatever kid remains in me.

I'm reminded of just how big and green the outfield at Yankee Stadium was some 50 years ago when my Dad took me to my first big league game.

I'm reminded of sitting in the field level left-field seats before the House that Ruth built was reconfigured and Joe DiMaggio, the Yankee Clipper, walking just a few feet away from me at an Old Timer's Game.

I'm reminded of how Dad would arrive at home from work after an exhausting commute on the Long Island Railroad and corral me and my younger brothers into the car for the ride to Shea Stadium to watch greats such as Sandy Koufax or Willie Mays or Roberto Clemente play the New York Mets.

I'm also reminded of how my oldest, at the age of 6 weeks, sat among a full house at County Stadium on a Saturday night against the Detroit Tigers in 1982 and barely uttered a peep, the start for him of a lifelong love affair with the game. Or how my oldest daughter asked for her sixth birthday to go to a game with Dad. Or how my youngest just a few weeks ago celebrated her high school graduation with her best friends at an afternoon game at Miller Park.

Before today's game against the Twins, I'll take a few moments to escape the press box and walk around the loge level of Miller Park. As I walk, I will see what I see every day I'm there — little kids holding their gloves in one hand and their dads with the other, their heads spinning and trying to absorb all the excitement of the moment.

Then later, as I prepare my report on one game, I will see the game that matters most.

Happy Father's Day.