It must be a joke. Some sort of ironic, bizarre, twisted joke. Every single time I decide to spontaneously buy tickets to something – anything – baseball game, concert, anything of the outdoor variety, one of the following occurs: A) it pours, to the point of the event being cancelled, or rain-delayed for five hours; B) the temperature soars to around 110º or so, making the act of merely breathing an effort, never mind climbing dozens of staircases, ramps, stationary escalators, etc; C) there is some sort of severe weather advisory – hurricane, tornado – or let’s not forget the random earthquake thrown in for good measure.
And yet I continue to plan ahead, to purchase tickets weeks – or months – in advance, with the sliver of hope that, this time, it will all work out. When will I learn?
Context: This past baseball season came and – almost – went without my having attended one game. I decided to buy tickets to a Mets game for the final weekend of September, figuring it wouldn’t be too hot or too cold - and what were the odds of it pouring on that particular day? Hold that thought for a moment.
Of course, being a Yankees fan, and knowing they would most likely have something substantial to play for, my real wish was to go to a New York/Boston game. As luck would have it, they were also scheduled to face off in late September – the same weekend as the Mets game. You can probably see where this is going…
So, fast forward to that weekend in late September, where the forecast is for nothing but torrential rain, on and off, for about three days straight. You know the rest. The first game – at Yankee Stadium – gets rained out, only to be (conveniently) rescheduled for Sunday night – about four hours after the Mets game that we (also conveniently) happen to have tickets for.
What are the odds? Well, if it has anything to do with our family and purchasing tickets – pretty good.
Of course, taking our “lucky” streak one step further, I was banking on both games being besieged by torrential rain, resulting in hours upon hours of delays, overlapping start times, and much wasted time traveling back and forth on trains and subways.
Thankfully, there is a baseball God, and we did not see one drop of rain – not from 11 a.m. when we set off on our journey, all the way until 1 a.m. when it ended (or rather, when we ended it, having seen enough futility after 11 innings to decide not to stick around for what ended up being a 14 inning losing effort for the Yankees).
It was one long, memorable day, to be sure.
But that’s what life’s all about – stringing together memorable days.
Published: October 5, 2011