Since we are on the subject, I made a real azz out of myself once and I might as well share that story now
It's been probably close to 10 years ago now, but a female friend of mine was having her company picnic at Memorial Park in Ft. Wayne, IN. Home of the "Triple A" Ft. Wayne Wizards (since then they built a new stadium and are now the Tincaps). She was single and had a 6-7 year old daughter. I was freshly single with a 6-7yr old daughter ... she knew I was a baseball fan...... so she asked me to go along. It was a 4:00 game but we got there about noon for the company picnic. Completely catered, great food, they gave out silly company awards..... it was pretty cool even though I didn't know a single soul there besides her and her daughter.
FREE BEER ..... I bet you know where this story is heading now right?
I had one too many between noon and game time. I wasn't stumbling/slurring drunk....... but I was pretty hopped up.
The screen behind home plate went from the field straight up about 30ft and then turned to cover the first few rows. We were directly behind home in row 12. The female friend and I sat together and the girls sat one row down right in front of us. From first pitch I envisioned a foul ball landing on top of the net right in front of me and lazily rolling into my hands as it fell out.
Late in the game it actually happened .....there was a foul ball that landed on top of the screen and started rolling right at me. Well, the alcohol ingestion must have altered my sense of distance because as the ball reached the edge of the net and started falling It was about 4 rows ahead of me.
I was already dead set on getting this ball and it was too late to turn back.
Now I had a few balls given to me at big league games over the years but I had never actually caught a foul ball/homerun. Being my first Minor League game I didn't know protocol and at that moment I didn't care either. Dropped my beer, stood on the back of the seat in front of me and took off like Superman. I ended up 3 rows down with the ball in my hand. No clue how that happened, but I quickly stood up with a huge smile on my face and notice that not only is everyone in the section staring at me .... they are GLARING at me.
Then I hear the screams..... and as a father, I could pick my kids' scream out of a lineup with a blindfold on.
When I dropped my beer .... it was on her.
When I stood on the back of the seat ahead of me .... I was stepping on the hair of my friends daughter as she was standing up to reach for the ball.
When I landed, it was on my friends supervisor and his wife.
I sulked back to my seat and prayed for a quick couple of innings so we could get the hell out of there. I felt horrible as I consoled the two crying girls ...... and the stench of stale/dried beer on my daughter for the hour long drive home was a constant reminder.... not to mention the attitude from my female friend as she was worried what her co-workers would be talking about around the watercooler the next day at work.
I made a complete idiot out of myself.
Oddly enough the friend and I dated for about 6 months after that and I bought a little case for the ball and put it on a shelf at her house.
When we parted ways I forgot the dang ball and I haven't talked to her since. All that for a baseball .... and a minor league ball at that.