Posts tagged baseball

Here are notable statistics from my day at the ballpark:

Teams seen: 4 (Metro State Roadrunners vs. CSU-Pueblo ThunderWolves; Colorado Rockies vs. Atlanta Braves)

Hours spent watching live baseball today: 11

Innings of live baseball watched today: 25 (one 10 inning game, one seven inning game, eight innings of the Rockies-Braves game)

Home runs hit in those 25 innings: 6 (including one by Chipper Jones of the Atlanta Braves while on his farewell tour)

Beauty Pageant winners sitting in my section: 1 (Miss Colorado, in the row in front of my friends and I at the Rockies game.)

Games decided in extra innings or in bottom of ninth: 3 of 3

Games in which the home team won: 1 of 3. (The winning run scored on a bases loaded walk in game two between Metro State and CSU-Pueblo)

Hot dogs eaten today: 2 (with onions, jalapenos, and two kinds of mustard)

Spicy chicken dogs eaten today: 3/4

There is a happy ending to this story.

My trivia team meets at the same bar every Tuesday for Trivia Night. We have won the grand prize the past two “seasons” by being the first team to accumulate 500 points. Our second triumph occurred two Tuesdays ago and as a reward for our prolonged excellence, we earned six tickets to the April 11 Colorado Rockies game in Section 148, Row 25, seats 1-6.

We felt ecstatic about our victory and eagerly anticipated attending the game together, especially because they were free tickets that we WON. April 11 was the fourth and final game of the Rockies’ first home series of the season against the San Francisco Giants.

That night was a little unusual in the sense that I drove to the bar, usually I walk. The trivia master handed the tickets to us in a white envelope with a clear plastic window. Nick took the envelope.

Since I was the only person who drove, I chauffeured my teammates (who are roommates, I am the only one who isn’t) back to their house six block away. The 1990 Toyota I drive is small and everything is done manually; cramming five grown men into this car is a feat unto itself. When I arrived at the house, they all filed out of the vehicle, reminiscent of a clown car, still excited by the night’s victory. I watched them enter the house and drive off, visibly buoyed. 

Nick sent me a text message the next afternoon.

“Could you check the back of the car for the tickets?”

My initial reaction was “Oh no, please tell me this isn’t happening.”

I checked the car, which wasn’t a monumental task given its size. I searched under the floor mats, between the front and back seats, and the glove compartment - combing through every possible crack and crevasse. No tickets.

“They were in an envelope right?” I replied.

“Yeah, one with a clear plastic window.”

I made my rounds through my clown car again to no avail, and gave Nick the disappointing news. He asked me to check again and I did the next day. The result was the same.

“Well, I guess I’ll check the house…again,” he said.

As the days went by, the disappointment and frustration set in. Nobody knew where the tickets were or when they might have disappeared. Collectively we tried to retrace all of our steps.

On Easter Sunday I found myself sitting at the table alone with my sister-in-law after dinner and told her about the events of the past few days and our misplaced tickets. She suggested I should try to get them reprinted by calling the Rockies, having been in a similar situation before.

Monday (day six of the search for Section 138, Row 25, Seats 1-6) I made my way down to the bar to see what I could find. I wanted to see if a manager had the number for the trivia master so we could reprint the tickets. Monday was also the day of the Rockies home opener.

The bar was empty aside from the bartender and a solitary waitress. Upon hearing the story, they echoed the sentiment felt by all involved:

“That sucks.”

They were kind enough to look in the safe for the lost envelope, although it was a foregone conclusion that the tickets were not to be found there. I left the bar shortly after the manager attempted to call the trivia master. When I called later that afternoon, the bartender informed me that they were unable to reach the trivia master and my best bet was to return the next night, for Trivia Night.

I met Nick before Trivia Night and reviewed by idea with him. I spoke with the trivia master as soon as we arrived at the bar.

“That sucks,” he said. “It would be tricky to get them replaced since we don’t know the seat and section numbers.”

He had a point. At that moment, that information was still unknown to me.

When I got to the table Nick said, “Chris has his ticket.”

Thank you, Jesus. That was the best Easter present I’ve had since…you.

When Chris arrived, he showed me his ticket: Section 148, Row 25, Seat 1.

“We must have seats 1-6. It makes the most sense.”

I took the napkin up to the trivia master. It read:

“April 11 Rox vs. SF; Section 148 R25 Seats 1-6. (along with my name and phone number.)”

Kevin arrived during the second round, coming directly from the airport. He had spent the past few days in Chicago, including the previous evening in the right field bleachers in the friendly confines of Wrigley Field. We hoped he found the envelope and safely tucked them away before he left, but Kevin knew nothing of what had transpired since leaving the bar the previous week.

Around 10:30 a.m. on Wednesday (day eight of the ordeal) I got a call from the trivia master.

“I have good news Dan,” (coincidentally his name is also Dan - who knew) “I was able to get the tickets reprinted. They are under your name at will call.”

Words cannot describe the feeling of triumph, relief, and satisfaction I felt at that moment. Almost immediately, I shared the good news with the rest of the team. What was lost was replaced and there was going to be a happy ending.

I found my way to Coors Field an hour before the first pitch. Along the way I indulged in two hot dogs from my favorite street vendor before making my way to the box office. Everyone going to the game arrived separately, and I waited for each one, making sure that everyone had a ticket. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. This was a reward that took 10 weeks to earn; 24 hours earlier we weren’t sure if we would be attending the game. 

By 1:30 p.m. on April 11 we occupied seats 1-6 of row 25 in section 148.

In the top of the second inning, Nick went to put on his coat. As a scrounged around, he opened one of the pockets and emerged with a white envelope with a clear plastic window. Inside of it were the original copies of the tickets for Section 148, Row 25, Seats 2-6 (Chris had Seat 1 in his wallet and it was used to reprint the others.)

It was the most surreal form of irony. Somehow, that was moment we found the misplaced tickets. Moments like that cannot be scripted. 

Life is truly wonderful when things work out in unexpected ways…