Denouement

Two hours.

That's how long I waited to get Brad Ausmus', Jason Lane's, and Phil Garner's autographs on my World Series ticket stub.

Not bad, I suppose. A few crazy people were in line at 8:30 a.m.

As in, you know, this morning.

So I guess I'm not quite the freak of a fan that I was afraid I was. That's good to know. I actually almost bailed a couple of times, as listening to the 20-somethings in front of me grew tiresome ("oh and I so love Brandon Backe and my cousin knows this guy who played against him in a tournament in high school and said he's cool and he's always been athletic and really a good baseball player and omigod he's so cute and he's the only one who's not married and I'm so going to fan fest this weekend to get his autograph and we're camping out or at least getting there at 4 in the morning to get in line and it's going to be cold but it'll be soo fun and so worth it because he's so cute and I can't hardly wait and I don't know if I'll be able to sleep but that's okay because we're getting there early anyway and he's soo cute. . . .").

Two hours of that, people.

Lord I'm old.

Two hours of waiting (and listening), culminating in 10 seconds to get the actual signatures. Ausmus first, then Lane, Phil Garner next, then finishing off with Dave Raymond, Brett Dolan (the latter two are Alan Ashby's replacements for road radio broadcasts) and finally Milo Hamilton. Ten seconds. Obviously, not a lot of time, and given that this was the last stop on the Winter Caravan (which has been going on for 9 days), everyone looked a bit tired.

But dude. Are you so tired you can't even look at your fans? Ausmus and Lane never made eye contact with me at all. Lane made eye contact with the 20-somethings (go figure, although I could have told him that they didn't even really know who he was). Phil Garner actually acknowledged my presence, which was appreciated, particularly since he was multi-tasking by participating in a phone interview at the same time.

Two hours. For 10 seconds.

I didn't get any autographs from the last three gentlemen--Raymond and Dolan have just joined the organization, and therefore weren't really a part of the Series, and I decided to hold off on Mr. Hamilton, as I'd like to get some of the other players' signatures on the rather smallish ticket stub first. But I shook their hands, and told the two new guys, "Welcome aboard! Good luck this year--looking forward to listening!" and I told Mr. Hamilton, "Congratulations on the book! Good luck with that!"

I dunno. Maybe the new guys are used to fans fawning over the players, and don't expect someone to say anything to them. Or maybe Raymond and Dolan have caught some of the fallout from the Alan Ashby falling-out. Or maybe they're just new enough to the big-leagues to not be jaded. Whatever--they seemed genuinely surprised and pleased that I extended well-wishes.

And on a totally girly note--they are both soooo cute!

(I may be old. . .er than some people, but I'm not blind or dead. Girlfriend's going to be listening to some radio this year!)