Now Its time to catch up a few things that I have missed in the last month.
THIS STORY WAS TAKEN FROM THE 1994 BASEBALL STRIKE AND HOW ONE RADIO STATION (1310 TICKET) AND HOW THIS ONE STAND CHANGED A FANS LIFE. (AFTER THE STORY AIRED ON 3-25-08 THE RANGERS SAID THAT THEY WOULD TREAT HIM AND HIS DAD TO A GREAT DAY AT THE BALLPARK.
PLEASE ENJOY THE LETTER......................................................
A NOTE ON BASEBALL FROM P1 Zach S.
In 1994 I was 14 years old. As I assume is the case with a lot of teenage boys, there wasn't a whole lot that my dad and I didn't fight about. In fact, I am positive that we fought about everything. To say that we had a rocky relationship is putting it mildly. But the one thing we never fought about was baseball. It was the one thing we could truly see eye to eye on. We would spend each spring, fall, and winter yelling at each other, but when summer rolled around things would magically get better.
When I first learned of the impending strike in 1994, I was devastated. In fact, I can remember talking to my mom with tears rolling down my eyes because I knew this would be the longest summer of my life. The way I saw it, a bunch of millionaires were taking away from me the one thing my dad and I had in common.
My mother must have told my dad about the conversation because shortly after that, he told me he wanted to take me to a baseball game. My parents didn't make a lot of money, so needless to say, this was a very special occasion. I was even more thrilled to learn that this trip to the temple was just for my dad and I, and my mother and two little brothers wouldn't be there. On the way to the game, he told me about why we were going. I had never listed to the Ticket up until this point, but Dad was a P1 Day 1, so I knew you guys existed. Once he told me about the plans to leave the game, I wasn't too happy about it. But I thought to myself, it's at least a couple innings of live baseball, so I'll take it. On top of that, doing something like this was a big deal for Dad, so I was sure that he would end up staying for the whole game anyway.
We were sitting in the outfield bleachers, just to the left field side of the grassy knoll. Then came the moment. The first pitch in the third inning had just been thrown. And I remember this moment like it was yesterday. It looked to me like thousands and thousands of fans stood up and left the game. I know it wasn't that many. But at that age, I was naive enough to believe it. After watching some people around us stand up and make their way to the aisle, I looked at my dad. He was already standing, wearing his blue, worn out throw back Ranger hat and a Ranger shirt that had to be from the 70's. He looked at me and said, "Zach, it's time to go". So we followed suit with the other fans from our section. Without a word, we all filed into the aisles and walked out. My dad and I didn't say two words to each other the entire walk back to the car.
By the time we got back to the car, I was furious. My dad had managed to personally ruin the one thing we had in common. But then something happened. We hopped into his 1989 Pontiac, put the windows down, and then he looked at me and smiled. As we pulled out and began our trek home, he began to tell me why we did what he thought we should have done. And he made it all make sense. There was something different about him that day, and I could tell that he was proud of it, as corny as that may sound. We took the long way home that day (another rarity). My dad and I talked the whole way home. The radio never came on one time. Sure we talked some baseball (we always did), but there was more to it than that. We talked about life, love, politics. We talked about his childhood and the day he met my mother. It was a wonderful trip home. I asked for advise, and he gave it. I laughed, and he laughed harder. It was the greatest hour and a half of my life.
I don't know what it was about that day. My assumption is that he was a very hard working man who never showed much emotion, so he finally got the feeling that his voice was heard. And he was proud about that. And he was even more proud to share that moment with his oldest son. I know this sounds cheesy and too good to be true, but the fighting between my father and I ceased that day. We became friends that day. Sure we have had our differences since then, but still to this day, he remains my best friend. And it started with the Ticket Stick It.
I don't know what kind of effect that even had on the big picture, and I have no way of knowing what you guys got out of it. But for me, it was the day in which I regained a relationship with my dad. A day I will never forget.