The Odds are one in a Thousand

Share special memories of the person that you remember.

The Odds are one in a Thousand

Postby jeffryes32 » Mon Sep 23, 2013 12:24 pm

Today was another rough day, I've been crying from the time I woke up, up till now. While going through the files on my computer, I found this piece of writing by Nate for his English college course a couple years ago. Thankfully, it was saved to my computer, I read through it and I was able to reminisce on one of the many many things that Nate and I enjoyed together. And one of the most memorable times that him and I spent together. I just wanted to share this time with you guys. I miss him SO much. I love you Nathan.

The Odds are One in a Thousand

My interest in baseball started about three seasons ago, when the Tigers swung their way into the World Series, only to ultimately lose. Before that, though, I had no desire to watch baseball. It was too slow and boring. Now, after that miraculous season that sparked a feeling of pride into not only the people of Detroit, but also the whole state of Michigan, I have come to America’s pastime. So for the past three seasons, I’ve gone to about ten or so games a year. Although each game is fun, and most of them exciting, some elements stay pretty much standard for each game I attend. There’s always the one really loud and obnoxious drunk guy, and I always give in to the irresistible, but expensive, smell of hot dogs, and I always have the inexpensive, but terrible, seats. Seats that, although good for Comerica Park’s Friday night fireworks show, are awful if you have hopes of catching a foul ball.


Exactly last season, my friend Jeff and I were on the way to our second game of the season. Although excited, we knew what to expect. Only one thing was different this time, the early evening sky was dark. It looked like there would be some rain at the ballpark. Not having jobs or any school at the time, we were both thinking the same thing. Jeff mad the pact, “No matter how long any rain delay is, we are going to wait it out.” I agreed, and added, “We have nothing else to do, and it might be kind of fun.” After arriving at Comerica, the rain was really starting to come down, but the game had not yet been delayed. We sat down in our bird’s eye view seats, and noticed something I hadn't before. “These bad seats actually have one good aspect. Have you ever noticed this roof before?” I asked Jeff. “No, I really haven’t, but it’s the only thing keeping us somewhat dry right now,” he replied.


The fourth inning had just ended, and the umpire finally decided to postpone the game. People were sitting on top of each other in an attempt to get under the roof and shield themselves from the rain. Jeff and I, however, decided to walk around the stadium and take in the atmosphere. There was an unusual tranquility that you normally wouldn't have at a baseball game.


Three hours, a couple of hot dogs, and a really long, pointless conversation with Jeff later, the game was ready to resume. We moved down to the vacant season ticket holder’s seats right behind the third base. Most of the fans had left, but a few thousand of us decided to stick out. Batters were coming and going, and once in a while a foul ball was hit into the stands. “Wouldn't that be unbelievable if we caught one of those? They’ll never come our way, though,” Jeff assumed. Two batters after his comment it happened, something that only happens to one in a thousand people. A batter for the Minnesota Twins popped up a pitch that seemed to travel a mile high. Looking up at the white dot in the sky, it seemed to be pretty far from our section, but then, with its heavy top spin, it deflected off an advertisement sign and floated over the outreached hands of some fans seated a few rows behind us. I stretched over the back of my seat and snatched the ball from the air. In an almost third person state, I hardly realized the crowd clapping and cheering for me.


I reflect back to that game, specifically that moment, and I realized that baseball is exciting, it does keep you on the edge of your seat, and it’s the only sport where you have a chance of walking away with a free souvenir, even if the odds are one in a thousand.


- I do have the ball that Nate caught, it's currently in a box full of his items. I will open the box when I am ready.
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Re: The Odds are one in a Thousand

Postby psyquestor » Tue Sep 24, 2013 2:36 pm

Thank you for sharing Nate's story with us Jeff. We are lucky to have those memories and mementos of their time with us. They help us to keep their memory alive, not just for ourselves, but in sharing who they were with others.
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Re: The Odds are one in a Thousand

Postby lostdennis » Thu Jan 09, 2014 9:11 pm

Yeh! That was a great story and well written; I enjoyed reading it; it is a great memory and reflective of so many things. THANKS for sharing.
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Re: The Odds are one in a Thousand

Postby jeffryes32 » Sun Jan 12, 2014 10:03 pm

Thanks Ron,

Nate and I were both sports fanatics, maybe with the exeption of hockey. I miss him so much :-(. Ever since he passed my interest in baseball diminished. I hope we find some happiness and enjoy life again. I'm pretty sure we all experience this deep sorrow and almost irreparable sadness.

Take care there Ron and everyone, as well.
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