Day 25

I can’t remember exactly what it was that decided to make us go for it, but we cut out on Wednesday night church early: the pastor’s intern, the college minister, the interim youth minister, and the music minister’s son.  We got permission, kind of.  Well, we must have, considering the music minister’s son was only a young teenager.

Anyway, there was some special on Texas Rangers baseball tickets. $4 off, I think.  That meant we could sit in the bleachers for only five dollars!  By the time we got to Arlington Stadium, the bleacher seats were sold out.  So we upgraded to seats behind home plate, but in the upper deck for $9.  Not a bad deal.

However, on our way from the outfield to our upper level seats, we spotted five empty seats about seven rows up behind the Rangers dugout.  It was already the third inning, so we slid into those seats, knowing there was a possibility we would need to move upstairs when the ticket holders arrived.  

Inning after inning, no one came for the seats.  Inning after inning, Nolan Ryan threw hitless baseball.  By the time the sixth inning rolled around, we were talking about the fact that we were probably good with the seats for the evening.  We weren’t talking about the possibility of a no-hitter.

Each time Ryan walked off the mound after the sixth, seventh, and eighth innings, we were close enough to see his eyes, his expression, his determination.  Hope-filled tension filled the stadium. By the ninth inning, no one was sitting down anymore.  The stadium held its collective breath with every pitch. Following the final strike, Nolan Ryan gave a smile and a fist pump before being smothered by his teammates.  To borrow a phrase, the crowd went wild.  Including us!  He had just pitched his record-breaking 7th no-hitter!

No one left the stadium for what seemed like the longest time.  Even after the applause had stopped.  Even after Ryan had exited the field.  No one wanted to leave.  It was a moment to be lived in.