This past July I had the fortunate experience to have a friend give me tickets to a Red Sox vs. Toronto Blue Jays game. These weren’t just any tickets. These were season tickets located half way down the first base line and 11 rows back.
The tickets created a wonderful opportunity for me to spend the afternoon and evening, one on one, with my son 15 year old son, Sam. It is amazing how much you can connect on a two and a half hour car ride. We talked about sports for most of the time but we also talked about life. I loved it.
As we approached Fenway Park the traffic was backed up. We had plenty of time before the game was to start but Sam wanted to see batting practice. At 15 he is old enough to venture out on his own. So I handed him his ticket and $20 and told him to get out and walk to the stadium. He loved it!
I finally found a place to park for the bargain basement price of $20 and I called Sam to see how the seats were. “They are awesome Dad!” I could hear the crowd in the background and the excitement in his voice. “Hey do you want your glove?” I asked. In the back of my mind I was thinking that it was a complete waste of time to bring it. An emphatic “Yes!” was Sam’s response.
I grabbed the glove and I worked my way through the crowd and into the stadium. There is just something about the energy of that type of crowd that is intoxicating and thrilling.
As I walked from inside the stadium and out to the seats I saw Sam sitting with his Italian sausage, huge drink, a scorebook and a big smile. He’d already spent the 20 bucks and we were ready to enjoy the game.
We settled in to watch Tim Wakefield throw his dancing knuckleball to the Toronto hitters. Toronto scored a run in the first inning on a sacrifice fly by Frank Thomas. After Thomas was retired Troy Glaus step to the plate. On Wakefield’s first pitch to him Glaus swung late and launch a tremendous foul ball in our direction. I watched the trajectory and in slow motion the crowd around Sam and I rose. I stayed seated as Sam jumped to his feet. From my angle I could see all kinds of hands outstretched as the ball continued on its flight. In the middle of all the hands I saw Sam’s brown glove reaching out to meet the ball. As with every great Disney movie, time seemed to stop and the ball slowly made its way back to earth. I heard a “thud” and as I was still looking up I saw the giant smile cross Sam’s face. He didn’t stand there and hold the ball aloft in victory, like I often see people do. He sheepishly sat down next to me and took a drink from he is giant coke.
From that point forward Sam sat intently watching the game and scoring it pitch by pitch in his score book. At the same time he kept his glove on, clutching his major league prize.
I got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get a beer and bring Sam food. Sam stayed seated as his diligently scored the game.
In the middle of the seventh inning we all stood for the traditional “stretch.” I was looking out to center field and Sammy was positioned on my left side. From the corner of my eye I saw the very large man who was seated in front of Sam suddenly lurch forward like someone was pushing him. As I turned to see what was happening I saw Sam’s seemingly lifeless body bounce off the back of the spectator and drop in a grotesquely limp pile into the aisle. For the second time in the same game, time stood still for me.
This time it wasn’t a Disney movie that I was in but a “troubling tragedy”. I moved in slow motion as my son’s body was sprawled in the aisle and quivering like an aneurism had just exploded in his brain.
I’ve never experienced a feeling like this and for the first time in a long time, I panicked. I began tugging on Sam’s arm trying to get him to move and come back to life. I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing but I just wanted to see Sam move his body on his own. As I turned him over I could see blood streaming from his forehead and drool dripping from his mouth.
This was the type of moment that no parent ever wants to deal with. I felt completely helpless and inept. Every terrible thought that I have ever thought screamed through my mind all at the same time.
Some of the other spectators tried to reach out and help as the tears swelled in my eyes. Suddenly Sam’s eyes opened and a look of complete bewilderment came across his face. He had no idea what had happened as he gathered himself and got to his feet. The medical staff had been alerted by someone and they came over to assist. When they asked Sam if he was o.k. he shyly said yes. When they asked if he needed medical help he said “no” and I aid “Yes!”
After I brief exam, a blood pressure check and decision that the incident was caused by sitting for a long time and suddenly standing up, Sam and I ventured back to our seats. I had a tough time enjoying the rest of the game as the Red Sox went on to win 7-4.
In the span of a few hours Sam and I had experienced an incredible high and a momentary, terrible low.
On the ride home Sam and I talked again. I pointed out to him that he was completely prepared to catch the foul ball from Troy Glaus and he put himself in position to have success because of it. On the other hand, sometimes life can suddenly take everything away from you when you least expect it just like Sam passing out in the middle of the game.
As much as the experience scared me to death it also reminded me of how close we all are to failure and tragedy. In a heartbeat each of us can have everything taken away.
The wonderful thing about the experience is that it also made me aware of why people do reach out and help each other, empathy. Those of us who are aware have empathy because we know how fragile life is for all of us. The beautiful thing is that empathy brings us together and makes us stronger as a society. I am a big fan of empathy.
