World Series Tickets

I have cheered for the Detroit Tigers my whole life. When they won the 1968 World Series, from my kindergarten classroom I cheered them. During the 1972 American League Playoffs, I booed loud and long at Oakland A’s shortstop Bert Campaneris who threw his bat at a very nice Tiger pitcher named Lerrin LaGrow all because Mr. LaGrow accidentally drilled him with a 95 mile an hour fastball. In 1976, I was in attendance at a “Monday Night Baseball Game of the Week” when the Tigers defeated the New York Yankees because of Mark “The Bird” Fidrych talking to the baseball while pitching. When the Tigers beat the San Diego Padres in the 1984 World Series, I was “high fiving” all of my friends in the TV room in Chapman Hall at Olivet Nazarene University. I never even wavered in my support for the Motor City Kitties in 2003, the year they lost an astounding 119 games. Moreover, in my office I have former Tiger great, Al Kaline’s jersey (on which he not only signed but he also wished me a “Happy 40th Birthday!”). Among other memorabilia, I have an old box seat from Tiger Stadium, bats, balls, pennants and pictures galore. As I write this article not 12 inches from my computer monitor is a poster of the final game played at old Tiger Stadium. I am and will always be a Tiger fan.

So when the Tigers announced that on Monday morning, at exactly 10 AM (Eastern Time) they would sell the approximately 10,000 remaining tickets to the World Series games, I knew I would have to try to get a ticket. It was a no-brainer. I knew that it would be difficult. I knew the odds of getting a ticket would be slim. Some estimates had over a million people trying to get those 10,000 tickets. I also knew that even if I got a ticket, in order to attend the game, I would have to preach on Sunday Morning and quickly head to the airport, catch a plane, hope for no delays, arrive in the Motor City, and take a quick taxi ride from Detroit Metropolitan Airport to the ballpark all before 6:30 (Kansas City time). Everything would have to work perfectly to get to the ball game on time.

But first things first-- I had to get a ticket.

At exactly 9:50 AM, I logged onto the Tiger Website and began to click my mouse on the “buy tickets” button. A message came up that the tickets were not on sale yet. I kept clicking and clicking and clicking. For eleven minutes I clicked. At 10:01 I got in… but a message told me I had to wait. I nervously waited. It kept telling me to wait. I kept waiting. At 10:10 a message came on the board that said I had two tickets in section 342 for Sunday’s game. I was talking on the phone to Karla through out this ordeal and I started to shout “I GOT THE TICKETS! I GOT THE TICKETS! I’M GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES, BABY.” The message also said I had two minutes to fill in the request form and submit it, or I would be “timed-out” and sent to the back of the line.

Two minutes. Two minutes really isn’t a lot of time when you are a slow typist, who tends to make many errors when he types. In the whole scope of a lifetime, two minutes isn’t very long at all. On the other hand, two minutes can seem like an eternity at the end of a college basketball game. Depending on which side of the bathroom door you’re standing, two minutes can be a very long time indeed. Two minutes should have been plenty of time to read over the instructions and then type in my name, e-mail address, retype my e-mail address, type in a password, retype that password, and indicate how I was planning to pay for the tickets. Oh yes, one more thing, I had to type in my zip code. After I composed myself from all my shouting and celebrating because of my good luck, I typed in all the information--except for the zip code. I forgot to type in my zip code. A message appeared on the screen and told me that I forgot to type in my zip code. Oops. Silly zip code. I typed it in. 6-6-0-6-2. It’s not a hard zip code to type. In fact, it’s rather easy. There are three 6’s, one zero and a two. You can’t get much easier than that. 6-6-0-6-2. I typed in my zip code, and then hit “send.” That’s when it happened!

How could this happen? Another message came on the screen. It was the most awful and horrible message I have ever read in my entire 43 years of living on this planet. It said that I had “timed out!” I had gone over the two minute limit. I had spent too much time celebrating and not enough time typing, and when I forgot to type in 6-6-0-6-2 that pushed me over the time limit. I was being sent to the back of the line!

NOOOOOOOOOO!

No tickets. No World Series. NOOOOOOOOO!

I have thought a lot about this between my sobs the last few days. I’ve asked the Lord what message he was giving me throughout this heart wrenching ordeal. I’ve come up with a few lessons that the Lord might have been trying to teach me. Here they are:

1) Don’t count your chickens (or in this case tickets) before you got ‘em. Maybe I shouldn’t have been standing on my desk singing: “I got ‘em, I got ‘em! I really, really got ‘em”—when I didn’t quite have them yet.

2) Like the boy scouts, always be prepared. I’ll admit I got a little nervous during that 2 minute drill.

3) Learn to handle disappointment. If the worse thing that ever happens to me is missing out on a ball game… that’s not such a bad life

4) You never know when your “time is up,” so act appropriately. (See #1 and recall my little singing on the desk episode that took place.)

5) Family before Baseball. Not only is this Sunday Game #2 of the World Series, but it also happens to be my #1 cherub’s #15 birthday. Alex will only have one Happy 15th so do I really want to spend it away from him and the rest of the family? (Also Karla’s folks are in town… oh wait a minute, I’m supposed to be giving reasons I want to stay in Kansas City. Just kidding. I love my in-laws. What kind of host would I be to leave when they are here?)

6) Pride cometh before a fall. Could it be that the many Royal fans at Central finally grew tired of the beast I had become (I believe the official scientific name is “Obnoxious Pastorus”) and asked the Lord to dish me up some humble pie? I’m afraid to admit that had I attended a World Series game in which my beloved Tigers actually won the game, I might have become a tad unbearable.

7) Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy. Ummm… the game is being played on Sunday… and that “Remember the Sabbath” thing is still one of the “Top Ten.” Would I be keeping the day holy if I was yelling “KILL THE CARDINALS! KILL THE CARDINALS!!! RAH! RAH! RAH!!!”??

8) Good Stewardship might not include two $190 tickets, an airplane ride to Detroit, a taxi ride to the ball park, a World Series souvenir or two, a couple of hot dogs, nachos and a large coke at the game. Maybe there are better uses for the money that God has provided.

To be perfectly honest, I’m not exactly sure what lesson I should have learned from this fiasco. Maybe it was none of the above, maybe it was all of the above. Karla probably put in the best perspective. After removing all the sharp objects from our house, she reminded me that God is in control and if He really wanted me to be at the game I would be there.

She is not only pretty. She is smart too!

This is what I know: God is in control and He has given me a great wife! Oh yea, one more thing: Go Tigers!