My husband is from St. Louis. He’s a Cardinals fan and still has his Rams season tickets in the obscure hope that they’ll someday go to the Super Bowl again and he’ll have a chance at tickets. Let’s just say that this playoff season has been making him happy.
Me, not so much. Why?
On Tuesday, my husband called me from work. “Soooo just as an FYI, I bought tickets to Game 7 of the World Series. Do you want to go with me?”
Question 1: Wait, back up. Before I answer your question, exactly how much did you pay for your World Series tickets,” I asked, knowing that friends of mine had paid over $1,000 per ticket to see a World Series game a few years ago.
“Oh. Well, just the $225 face value (ummm really, “just” $225? I don’t pay “just” $225 for just about anything, do you?) because I entered the ticket lottery back before the playoffs started and won rights to World Series tickets. I promise, I just paid face value.”
Oh. Because that makes it all better, never mind the fact that he neglected to mention this little detail to me until 48 hours – ok, to be fair, 49 hours – before the game.
“Well, when is the game?” I asked – the first logical question I have before answering whether I want to drive five hours to and from St. Louis. Gah, road trips.
“The game is this Thursday,” he responded, as if that were obvious and no big deal.
Ummm, I can’t go. It’s a school night. And we have two children. In school. Well, one child in school and one child who has no school on Friday, which is worse. And we have Little Miss’s conference after school on Thursday. And Mister Man has a Cub Scout meeting Thursday night. And my parents have a board meeting for their neighborhood and I already have to pick Little Miss up from gymnastics at the same time Mister Man needs to be on his way to Cub Scouts. And my husband has classes to teach on Thursday and Friday.
“How exactly are you thinking of going?” I asked, very calmly I might add, just figuring that maybe he forgot these little tidbits of detail.
“Well, flights right now to St. Louis are only $350 per person-” he started before I interrupted and asked if he was joking about paying another $700 to go, knowing that flights are only going to increase by the next night when he’d know if there was even going to be a Game 7.
His next strategy, after realizing that I wasn’t going once I listed all the commitments that would prevent – in my mind – both of us from going, was for him to fly down one way himself then take the Mega Bus back. The only “issue” with that was that he’d somehow have to pick up his car at 6:10am from the airport, and the Mega Bus depot is not exactly in the best neighborhood to start. Then he decided he’d drive down – missing the end of the school day but getting other teachers to cover his classes – and then drive back Friday, taking a personal day. Except that since he has no personal days left this school year, it would be an unpaid personal day. Ummm, no. His last plan involved him driving to the game and then turning around after the game and driving home overnight and teaching Friday. As a parent, I would not be happy having my child taught by a teacher that exhausted and not with it, forget the danger of driving overnight on little to no sleep.
Figuring that my husband was a mature and responsible man, I left the choice up to him. And before you start chastising me for not getting it, let me stress that I am a sports fan. I love my baseball (Twins) and football (NU Wildcats and Minnesota Vikings) and hockey (Chicago Blackhawks) and that my loyalties don’t waver. I’ve gone to the Northwestern bowl games – because I was able to plan it out in advance. I’d love to go to a Vikings Super Bowl one day. I’d love to go to a Twins World Series game (don’t ask about 1987 or 1991 when I lived in Minnesota and my dad had the opportunity to get tickets but chose not to do so). I chose not to attend a Blackhawks Stanley Cup playoff because the tickets were insanely expensive. At some point, you look at your commitments and your priorities and say “Wow, that would be really cool to do, but unfortunately, I just can’t do it this time around and that’s a real bummer.” Or at least that’s what I do.
My husband was going to the game. I was now going to Little Miss’s conference by myself – after we’d moved it from the official conference dates because my husband had his own conferences to attend and couldn’t make it – before picking up Mister Man to have him do his homework in the car while we headed to Little Miss’s gymnastics where I’d pick her up and eat dinner in the car as I took her to his Cub Scout meeting – hoping this wasn’t totally against Cub Scout etiquette – and keeping both of them up way past bedtime instead of just him, knowing that we’d be late to his Cub Scout meeting because there’s no way to get from one activity to the other in enough time.
I held my tongue, however, after suggesting that he put those tickets on StubHub and reap the benefits while watching the game from home (his tickets are selling for well over $1,000). It wasn’t taken.
But someone, somewhere likes me. Last night’s Game Six was rained out in St. Louis, so it was moved to tonight (the Thursday in the above story) with Game Seven, if necessary, scheduled for Friday.
And yes, my husband is still planning to go. Forget that he has a football game he’s supposed to work on Friday night. Forget Mister Man’s Tae Kwon Do that coincides with Little Miss’s church Faith In. Forget her Daisy meeting that follows immediately that he’ll now need to attend, which is always a joy, as I’ve had to do it last year when he was coaching.
So to be honest? Tonight, I’m rooting for the Rangers. I’m pretty sure that makes me a bad person, but I’m ok with that.
Come enter a very very fast giveaway ending Sunday night for a Freschetta coupon and two sets of earbuds