Past: Over the years, I’ve had uncanny luck at scoring tickets for highly sought after events on Ticketmaster. Once such win was tickets to Game 1 of the World Series back in 2003.
I bought these tickets before we knew who would be in the playoffs. Our hope was that it would involve the Red Sox and/or the Cubs, both of which were this close to making it in. Alas, that didn’t happen. It was the Yankees and the Marlins that made it to the end. So, to Yankee Stadium we went—while our Cubs-loving friend from Illinois opted not to join us. But he was super-kind enough to give us some Acela points that upped us to business class and (this was the best part) a free stay at the W Hotel in Times Square.
Unfortunately, as soon as we made it to NYC, I was walloped with a sinus infection and my boyfriend burdened with GI distress. His good pal joined us on the trip and did his best to keep us in good spirits.
All I remember from the game was pressing my palms into my eye sockets to stop the throbbing in my skull, shivering because I chose style over function, and sipping a really lousy hot chocolate. But because it was a big-deal anniversary for the World Series, everybody at the ballpark that night received a little commemorative pin. That pin—for all these years—served as a reminder of that miserable night . . . and that amazing hotel room. Got to get back there someday!
Present: Craigslisters aplenty e-mailed me asking for me to give them this pin. In the end, it was a pleasant gentleman by the name of Gene who I chose to give it to. He simply wanted to add it to his collectors hat, which is already adorned with pins. And that reminded me of the straw cowboy hat that my Grandpa Bill used to wear sometimes. His hat had collectible pins from all 50 nifty United States on it. It was a silly-looking hat. But I loved staring at it, knowing each pin contained a story.
I mentioned this to Gene and he said that each of his pins also carried with it a story. And he thanked me for telling him my story, which gives my World Series collectors pin from 2003 a story for him to share with his grandchildren.
I bought these tickets before we knew who would be in the playoffs. Our hope was that it would involve the Red Sox and/or the Cubs, both of which were this close to making it in. Alas, that didn’t happen. It was the Yankees and the Marlins that made it to the end. So, to Yankee Stadium we went—while our Cubs-loving friend from Illinois opted not to join us. But he was super-kind enough to give us some Acela points that upped us to business class and (this was the best part) a free stay at the W Hotel in Times Square.
Unfortunately, as soon as we made it to NYC, I was walloped with a sinus infection and my boyfriend burdened with GI distress. His good pal joined us on the trip and did his best to keep us in good spirits.
All I remember from the game was pressing my palms into my eye sockets to stop the throbbing in my skull, shivering because I chose style over function, and sipping a really lousy hot chocolate. But because it was a big-deal anniversary for the World Series, everybody at the ballpark that night received a little commemorative pin. That pin—for all these years—served as a reminder of that miserable night . . . and that amazing hotel room. Got to get back there someday!
Present: Craigslisters aplenty e-mailed me asking for me to give them this pin. In the end, it was a pleasant gentleman by the name of Gene who I chose to give it to. He simply wanted to add it to his collectors hat, which is already adorned with pins. And that reminded me of the straw cowboy hat that my Grandpa Bill used to wear sometimes. His hat had collectible pins from all 50 nifty United States on it. It was a silly-looking hat. But I loved staring at it, knowing each pin contained a story.
I mentioned this to Gene and he said that each of his pins also carried with it a story. And he thanked me for telling him my story, which gives my World Series collectors pin from 2003 a story for him to share with his grandchildren.
2 comments:
I also distinctly remember the loudest cheer of the night; it happened when a slight mistiming caused the flyover to drown out Clay Aiken's rendition of the national anthem. In fairness, though, New York lost the game, or the cheer might have had more competition.
Thanks for the kind words (and the sweet pad!).
--Your good pal
Oh my goodness! How could I forget Clay Aiken? Or maybe I should be saying thank goodness I forgot Clay Aiken...
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