Rinaldi Sausages, a family-owned company, gave Golden Grizzlies baseball fans complimentary hot dogs at weekend games.

For all the grandstanding of a pitcher, acrobatics of an outfielder, stolen bases, sweaty faces, broken bats, chewing tobacco — although it’s fallen out of vogue — and home runs: one fact remains.

Baseball isn’t the quickest game in the world.

The nine innings of baseball each constitute a time slot fit for a meal of their own.

Hunger strikes at the ballpark too — the sting of thirst strikes the back of the throat. And rare is the ball game that is not too hot or too cold.

These facts have given rise to one of the longest and most successful marriages in the American canon. The ballgame and a hot dog.

Sometimes it’s a brat.

Sometimes it’s the classic.

But strange is the man eating a burger at a ballpark.

So long is the matrimony between the dog and the game that different costumes dress up the dog across the country. New York is famous for unusually long dogs. In Seattle, one is liable to get a dog all in white slaw.

Even Detroit is known for Comerica Park’s exceptional classic all-American dog.

This past season, Oakland’s own ballpark developed its own trademark dog.

The Rinaldi sausage has filled hungry mouths all season at the Golden Grizzlies ballpark.

Fans say that a spring ballgame with a handmade dog knocks a nostalgic home game feeling out of the park.

“My favorite part of a baseball game is actually getting to eat the hot dog,” fan Ann Knight said. “I love having one cooked on the flat top and loaded up with mustard.”

You can hear the sizzling.

“I rarely eat a hot dog,” she continues, “but always get to eat one at a ball game. Nothing says summer like a ballgame and a hot dog.”

It was a cold day when the Golden Grizzlies played the Wright State Raiders.

It was a cold game, too. The Raiders pitcher, Cam Allen, pitched like a surefire MLB draft pick.

Rushing to the grill in between innings, as pop hits of the early 2000s fill the airwaves — a booming baseball tradition — one can take in the vibes of the crowd.

Warming your hands on the way to the grill, the peanut gallery is the unlisted tenth starter on every home team.

“You tired of this yet?” One of the Golden Grizzlies said to another.

“Nope,” The other player boomed back, glowing in his team parka, “I have had Rinaldi Sausage for two meals two days in a row, and I would do it again.”

The smell of warm meat hits the nostrils, throwing a fastball straight to craving.

The snap of a dog sounds like a bat nailing the ball.

Both the team and Rinaldi expressed interest in further partnerships; fans will have to wait until next season to find out whether the Rinaldi dog will return as the official baseball dog of Rochester Hills.

But today, the grill smells like going to a childhood spring training game with your coolest uncle.