Just Cured - Experience Fine Foods

Yesterday was a local holiday in my city — baseball’s Opening Day. We have a parade sponsored by the vendors at Findlay Market. The city essentially shuts down for the afternoon. Everyone-who-is-anyone attends the game, baseball fan or not.

For many years, I have cheered on the Redlegs from the seats reserved for the Findlay Market vendors. The seats are nothing special, top rows out the left field line; but the company is excellent. This year I found myself with a couple of extra tickets. I offered one to my former assistant and the other to a baseball fan new to the city.

Early on the holiday morning, my former assistant called and begged off; her younger son was ill with a stomach virus. I held out hope for the baseball fan even though he had told me he could not take the afternoon off work.

I attended a couple of meetings downtown during the morning and kept an eye out for someone who might enjoy the two tickets burning a hole in my pocket.

Shortly before noon, I stopped by the business of a friend. He was beaming when I walked into the shop. A customer had just handed him two tickets for the big game, box seats inside third base. He had already called his daughter. She was on her way downtown with her son, my friend’s one year old grandson; the three of them were going to their first ever Opening Day!

I made one last call to the baseball fan to see if his baseball fever got the better of his work conscience. He was tempted but still declined. I finally told the friend that I had come into his place to offer him my extra tickets. We offered them to his employees, but they had to keep the shop open. My friend told me to leave the tickets with him; he would find them a good home. He also wrote down my seat location because I offered to buy him a beer if he would take the long walk up to visit the commoners.

The game’s start was delayed an hour due to rain. During the first inning and much to my surprise, I looked up to see my friend, his daughter and grandson inching down our row. When they arrived at the seats next to me, I teased my friend that he just couldn’t stay away from the upper deck rabble. He whispered to me that the other tickets — the box seat tickets, the tickets given to him by a good customer — scanned as stolen. It was just dumb luck he said that no one who came into the shop after I left needed tickets. One of his employees drove “my” tickets down to the ball park for my friend.

My friend, the fan of every known sport, had no expectations of attending his first Opening Day game yesterday. But having been offered the hope of going, being turned away at the gate would have been a huge disappointment.

Fortunately, two people who I really would have liked to have spent the afternoon with had other obligations.

Fortunately, I decided to visit my friend yesterday.

Fortunately, I left those tickets for him to dispose of.

Fortunately, he didn’t.

Fortunately, my friend got to see his first Opening Day game, and his grandson got to see his first of a lifetime’s worth. I know they will remember yesterday for a long time.

There is a picture of that baby on my lap enjoying the game. I hope his mother remembers to send me a copy. Because I want to remember as well.