Last week I made the decision to put my mental health first and take time away from my job to focus on myself and my family. Last Tuesday night, I made the last minute decision to go check out the Syracuse Mets game while they had the Leigh High Valley Iron Pigs in town. The main reason that I decided to go was that I saw when the starting lineups were posted that the Mets number 10 overall prospect, Blade Tidwell, was making his fourth Triple-A appearance. Tidwell pitched 4.2 innings while giving up three runs on four hits, and struck out three. It was a pretty good performance for the 23 year old, but that’s not what stood out that night for me.
When I head to historic NBT Bank Stadium alone for a game, 90% of the time you can find me just beyond the left field fence, in front of the 315 Bullpen Bar. Now, a few years ago, this was a prime spot for me because I could grab my favorite alcoholic beverage and enjoy a game, but as I approach 800 days of sobriety, the beers aren’t what I’m there for.
This specific night was a bit overcast and chilly, at 6pm while school was still in session, with the forecast calling for some spotty showers, so to say there was a lackluster crowd was quite the understatement, but those are some of my favorite games to go to, as you can hear everything going on down on the field.
So as I’m standing in the corner closest to the bullpen, watching the bullpen catcher warm up the left fielder, I notice an older gentlemen walk up to the railing about 10 feet to my right. As the game starts I don’t really pay attention to anything in particular, just watching Tidwell warmup and begin to attack the lineup, which is littered with prospects and some players with substantial Major League time under their belts. After the first half inning I looked to my right, and saw the gentlemen standing there watching the game alone, truly what I noticed first was that he was wearing a bright orange Baltimore Orioles hat. I made mention to him how I was impressed with how the young Orioles team was playing together and how well the team was doing overall. This sparked everything.
We spent the rest of the game chatting, about baseball, about life, about nothing and everything all at the same time, it was like we were long lost friends. It turned out that this was his first time visiting Syracuse for a baseball game. His original intentions was to visit an old college buddy that he hasn’t seen in 20+ years in Rochester. While he planned on going to see a game there, he picked the perfect time, planned on attending a baseball game in not only Syracuse, but in Buffalo and Rochester as well. As the innings progressed we spoke about all of the Minor League games that he has attended from teams both present and past, where the best place to watch the game is, and some of his favorite players. This man didn’t just like the player for his on field accomplishments, but also for what they did with the fans, especially the children on a daily basis.
By the end of the game, I found out that I am the same age as his youngest child, yet we bonded and spoke as equals, not as him lecturing or talking down to someone younger than him. At the end of the game, before we parted ways, I realized that I didn’t catch this gentleman’s name. When I shook his hand and introduced myself, he extended his hand and laughed, as his name was Brian as well. We said our good-byes, went our separate ways, and I’m almost positive that I will never cross paths with that man again. That man provided me an outlet for those 2 hours and 37 minutes. I’m glad that I forced myself out of the house and to the stadium that night, I typically love watching a game by myself and just letting myself forget about everything else that is going on, but that night was different.
Like I always say, when you go to a Minor League Baseball game, you never know what you are going to get.
Photo Credit; Minor League Baseball, Stadium Journey,
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