Tuesday, October 25, 2011

A Fun Little Experiment I May Never See The Results Of

If you love sports as a child, and, well, I kind of did, then your lifelong dream is to play for your favorite sports team. If you're a Jewish child like myself, then some might argue that you have a slightly different dream as Arn Tellem did when he told Sports Illustrated in 2002, "Bar mitzvah age is when a Jewish boy learns he has a better chance of owning a professional sports team than of playing for one." But failing the chance of playing for your favorite sports team or of owning it there is always that dream of simply getting to watch your team in person whenever you want.

That is, to say, owning season tickets.

Now, when I was 20 I put myself on the Giants season ticket waiting list and expected to get my number called sometime in 2025. As I wrote about earlier this year, it didn't quite turn out that way, and when given the opportunity to buy in 15 years earlier than I expected, I eventually declined due to the enormous cost and my own muted desire to bother selling all of the tickets. However, New York has tons of things to do what with it being the greatest city in the world and all. Some other cities may lack the comparative excitement.

This brings us to Green Bay, Wisconsin. The Green Bay Packers are the essence of everything that is great in the NFL. Their tradition is rich and fundamentally steered the game for decades, their legacy permeates all aspects of American football right down to the Super Bowl Trophy, and, as I've said before, seeing a game at historic Lambeau Field just might be the most incredible game-day experience in American professional sports. Also, the football team is pretty good these days.

So naturally, any youngster growing up in Wisconsin would hope and pray for the chance to have season tickets one day at Lambeau Field, but if you aren't aware, much like so many other fanciful aspects of childhood, the dreams of getting those tickets any time soon is pretty much nil. The waiting list for Packers season tickets is roughly 55 years depending on who you ask these days, which prompts many parents in Wisconsin to put their newborn children on it so they might get the chance to enjoy season tickets by the time their children are out of school and they can begin dipping into their IRAs.

I always knew the venture took a while, but it didn't quite dawn on me just how long it was until Darren Rovell posted a video on his twitter account yesterday of him being told by the Packers Ticket Office that he was likely to die before he ever got offered season tickets.



I, fortunately, am a full 7 years younger than Rovell -- a fellow Northwestern alum, on a side note. As a result of this I decided to put together the little experiment you all saw before the jump. Let the record show that today, October 25, 2011, I David Kalan did mail in my form to become a member of the waiting list for season tickets to the Green Bay Packers. I don't really have any intentions of buying tickets, but considering the expected wait time right now would put me as a season ticket holder somewhere around 2066, when I'll be 81 years old, I'm curious to see if I can get them before I shuffle off this mortal coil. If I do, I may just purchase them for the hell of it since I'll be rich and could fly to Green Bay on a whim and all.

Of course, as Rovell points out, he joined the list five years ago and is likely without a chance, so that makes him only two years older than I am currently at the time he signed up. We'll see how it goes, but it looks like my hopes are slim unless there are some handsome medical advances. In the end October 25, 2011, could be a date that lives in season ticket infamy.

However, in these times of sports-related woe and want, mainly the NBA locket, horrid play of the Mets and Northwestern not only having a highly disappointing season but exacerbating it Saturday night by getting bitten by the "these uniforms are awful" bug, it's important to remember the good days, and October 25, is certainly one of those.

That, my friends, is because today marks one of the greatest moments in the history of not only one of my favorite teams, but sports itself. That's right, folks. It's the 25th anniversary of Game 6, when the Mets rallied from two runs down and two outs in the bottom of the 10th of what could have been the end of the 1986 World Series, to cap one of the greatest games every played relived here in its entirety on RBI Baseball.



Yes, that might just be the greatest moment in Mets history, and maybe it came as a result of someone making a life-altering mistake, but if history and Curb Your Enthusiasm have taught me anything, it's that Bill Buckner will be fine. In the meantime, on this 25th anniversary of the Amazins' historic triumph, I will cherish the moment -- and I will still cherish it when I'm 81.

I just may get slightly distracted if I also wind up getting Packers tickets in the mail that day.

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