I really wasn't planning to write on this, maybe make a comment in the recap and certainly not this long, but considering how the evening unfolded...

I left work early yesterday with the intent of getting in a workout and running some errands before leaving for the Dome. Well, the good intentions got blindsided by naptime, although I at least got to the post office and arrived at the picnic area reserved for Admission Possible around a quarter past five. There were already a lot of people there by the time I got there, and even moreso as the picnic wore on. I walked up to the check-in area, gave them my name and they announced "ok, you won the ticket to the owner's box suite".

...*blink*...

Elation. Panic. My God! What do I talk to Tony Oliva about, alone, for 3 hours? I didn't do any homework whatsoever! I wasn't even born when he was still playing (I think, see how little I know about him other than he's called "Tony O" and had his potentially hall-of-fame career cut short by injury?). I can only talk about the nice seats and the state of the team for so long before I just plain run out of material. When Skorch runs out of material, I either stop talking altogether, or conversation takes a wierd turn. Sometimes it works, sometimes I come off like a fruitcake. I saw TwinsGeek across the picnic area and made a beeline. I quickly re-introduced myself to him since meeting him at the Bulldog for an offseason Baseball blog get-together and helping him get the word out on the event-at-hand on this here site. I quickly showed him my ticket with a mix of excitement and concern and he informed me that he and his family were in the suite as well.

Relief. I can talk to the Geek. No problem, after reading him for the past 3 seasons or so I know him better than I know a lot of the people I work with. Sure, he doesn't know me but he'll doubtlessly have an arms-length list of probing, insightful questions off the top of his head for Tony O to keep conversation flowing. I said "Thank God there's someone else to talk to, I have no idea what I'm going to talk to Tony Oliva about!" To which he replied, "Yeah, me neither!"

Ok, fine. We'll be able improvise something though without much trouble I'm sure throughout the course of the game. Time to get some dinner. I gave my dinner ticket to the Admission Possible volunteer wearing shorts, a Twins t-shirt with Puckett's number, and lime green Chuck Taylors while pointing out to her that unlike my red Chuck Taylors, hers didn't match the ensemble. A look in my closet will confirm to anyone how little I know/care about fashion, but I've got a weakness for the canvas hightops. I sat down with my loaded hot dog, potato salad, chips, and drink when the Geek came by to inform me "Tony Oliva had to cancel, he's being replaced by Carl Pohlad."

Flashback Time: When I initially posted notice of the event, I included a line to the effect of "you won't be in the owner's box alone with Carl Pohlad, that would be uncomfortable, but instead with Tony Oliva." A little later that night I re-edited it since I didn't want it to seem like I was taking a shot at Pohlad, especially in light of his generosity towards Admission Possible.

Well, guess what? It looked like it was going to happen anyways, although at least it wasn't going to be a one-on-one squirmfest as I sat and wondered if he'd heard some of the unflattering things I'd said in the past about him.

Until the game started I walked around and tried to pick out the bloggers. I wound up sitting down with TwinsJunkie, his friend "Not Aaron Gleeman", and Stick and Ball Guy for a bit. They knew each other enough to talk to each other for awhile, pointed out Frightwig when he arrived, and later noted the real Aaron Gleeman arriving. They got up to talk to Aaron, I got up to look around a bit. I considered introducing myself to Frightwig, but he was in the middle of dinner and I really don't like the notion of interrupting celebrities while they're eating. In a few minutes I wound up finding someone in a Sonic Youth shirt and it turned out to be AMR with his nearly two-year-old daughter. We talked about music (I have to check out Animal Collective, I told him to take a listen to Sleepytime Gorilla Museum) and other things for awhile before his curious girl dragged him away.

Soon thereafter it was time to gather near the sign-in table to be led to the suite. There turned out being 11 of us that had tickets there. We were "led" there by another of the delightful Admission Possible volunteers who asked me "You look like you know where you're going, is it this way?" I assured her that Gate F was indeed to our left and we were off.

We got to the suite and a sort of overload took over. There were 8 purple theater-style seats and 4 bar-stool height chairs each with a program and red TC cap, two TVs, Framed front-page newspaper reprints from when the Twins won the '91 World Series, and a whole lot of food: huge-ass shrimp, chicken wings, ribs, a veggie/fruit/cheese tray, chips, popcorn, and what was later determined to be fish sticks. Oh! And there was free beer in the fridge! Ordinarily I'm not a Bud man, but I was last night given the choices.

Given the sheer novelty of what I was experiencing I found it hard to concentrate on the game. I cheered as Hunter robbed a homerun, booed some called third strikes, and lamented to myself the return of Lyle and the Ass-Bats (which I believe might be the name of a band that had a minor hit in the Detroit area called "Kicking Your Heart Down the Street and Laughing the Whole Time, Suckers"). Interspersed in this time was conversation with the Geek (who came up with probably the most perfect plan to win "The Jumbotron Challenge"), his wife The Voice of Reason, the others in the suite (including a guy named Mike who works on another site that I forgot the name of, sorry!), and both the aforementioned Admission Possible volunteers who stopped in to check on us and later exposed each other as Yankees fans. Towards the end of the game in the suite next to us we noticed Kent Hrbek watching through binoculars a woman being helped that was hit by a foul ball. Shrimp long gone by this time, I suggested we should ask him if he would get us some more.

Considering the good time I was having, I had even more reason to hope for a Twins rally, but it just didn't happen. It wasn't until we got closer to the end of the night that I realized Pohlad never showed up in the suite. He had been out in the picnic area for awhile when it was going on but I completely missed it. Otherwise we didn't see him. I would have liked to have at least thanked him personally for everything that was provided to us for the game.

As the game was going on I said to TwinsGeek "I feel like I should write something on this, but I have no idea what to say".

Posted by Skorch at June 22, 2005 12:35 PM