:eek:
Mine’s cool.
June 8, 1982, Dodgers vs. Braves, Dodgers Stadium. The real significance of the date had to do with another local team, though: the Lakers. They were playing that night in Game 6 of the NBA Finals versus the 76ers. At the time – I was a high school junior – I was a semi-geeked out Dodgers fan but a completely psychotic, borderline dangerous Lakers fan (to myself that is: e.g., punching walls, kicking furniture over a Laker loss). Going to a Dodgers game was always special for me, but seeing the Lakers in the Finals was everything. So I did both. Brought a portable TV, which in 1982 wasn’t really that portable, but still enough to take in the game.
So the Lakers win, clinched the title. I’m overjoyed and then practically in a daze from then on. The Lakers are NBA Champs you know?!? So Bill Russell hits a liner off of Gene Garber down the right field line. Directly at me. I don’t even know if I even saw the ball get hit; I just heard the fans clamoring, looked over and saw everybody parting like the Red Sea to get out of the way. I just stuck my hands out and caught it. The crowd erupted. It was totally surreal, bordering on out-of-body. No pain or nothing.
I lost it a few months later taking batting practice with the other guy in my school that got cut from the team every year until we were seniors. It’s one of the few worldly possessions I truly regret no longer having.
I choked the only other legitimate chance I had at catching a foul ball. And it was a gimme: a soft blooper hit right to me (by Willie McGee at Three Rivers Stadium).
Funny how we baseball fans put catching a foul ball on the same level as the birth of our first child.