Foul Ball

I was sitting down the first base line about four rows back. During the course of the game several foul balls came in the vicinity of our seats but nothing particularly close. It dawned on me that I’ve never caught a foul ball at a game and this started to weigh heavily on my mind. What were the chances that I would never catch a foul ball at all the baseball games I had been to? I immediately considered myself unlucky, burdened with a lack of juju, stuffed to the gills with bad luck.

“Hit one over here you cocksucker,” I yelled.

Now, this is going to be hard to believe but on the very next pitch a lefthander pulled one down the first base side into the bleachers. Yes, the ball was coming right at me. I had only a split second to make my move on the ball and you would think I would have jumped out of my seat right? Wrong. In my catching hand I was holding two plastic FREE BEER coins. Good for two 16 ounce beers at any concession stand. As the ball drew closer my mind volleyed back and forth between the possibilities. Should I drop the coins and go after the ball? What if I couldn't find the coins? Was the ball worth $9.00 worth of beer? What would I do with the ball if I did catch it? I knew exactly what I would do with the beer. Of course I would drink it. I couldn’t drink the ball. It would just sit on a shelf and collect dust…

I watched as the ball sailed over my head. The guy next to me had dumped his French fry bucket and snagged the ball with it. Well, almost, the ball popped out the other side and he picked it up off the ground. He had knocked his full beer down in the process.

I squeezed my plastic coins and laughed. The sucker next to me was up one ball but down a beer. I was up three beers and down one ball. I could live with that.