The location:
The Backdrop:
Bottom of the 7th Inning. Padres lead 5-4. I'm sitting in Suite 48, drinking a beer, and technically participating in a "work event". Due to a last minute colleague cancellation, I was able to bring JD as my healthcare-sector technical advisor. Early in the game, we laugh at the little kid sitting next to us with a mitt, as we joke about how impossible it would be for a fly-ball to ever reach our section. Todd Helton is at the plate.
The Opportunity: 2 and 2 count. High fastball down the middle. Helton takes a huge cut, but is a little late and little low. Ball ricochets off his bat, starts flying towards the upper deck.
WAIT SCRATCH THAT, IT'S FLYING TOWARDS SUITE 48!
The Reaction: My two bosses to my left duck and cover. They are not looking for their moment of fame, just for survival. In contrast, I put down my beer and quickly prepare myself. My moment of glory has finally arrived after 25 years on this planet. 60,000 eyes and innumerable TV viewers are watching. As the ball spins towards me, I start contemplating my victory celebration. I'm pretty sure i'm going to go with a "who has two thumbs and just caught a fly ball... this guy" joke.
The Outcome: The ball is to my left. I reach over the wall for a deft one-handed barehand snag. The ball hits my hand. My hand smashes into the wall. The ball pops out of my hand. Tears pop out of my eyes. My 15 minutes of fame are over, and all that is left is the booing of the crowd ringing in my ears. And a searing pain in my left hand.
OUCH!
ReplyDeleteGuess you'll be bringing a mitt from now on.....
Though statistically I am guessing you have a snowball's chance in Hades to have another come your way. Too bad.
The story is embellished. The ball hit his hand then hit him square in the chest. There was no interference from the wall. Pass interference penalty will not be assessed. Do not pass go.
ReplyDelete