Four hours before the first pitch, I finished the rough draft of my grad school research paper and remarked to The Mister, "We could still make the game in Detroit if we left now." Twenty minutes later, a school teacher and a meat grader living The American Dream robbed their "Fun Fund" and were out the door with two freshly printed tickets in hand, psyched about watching both their favorite teams compete under the lights.
I kept tabs on the radar during the two and a half hour drive to the city, devising a backup plan just in case, but The Mister assured me we would be "just fine" and he was spot on. A few sprinkles was all we had, just enough to open up a pair of seats with an even better view of the field.
Despite the fact that my team forgot to show up and play (we lost by eight runs), the game was awesome to watch. A grand slam, a fantastic double play, some long balls into the seats, it couldn't be beat. The players were having a great time and so were we. An added bonus for The Mister was being there to see Max Scherzer go 11-0 to set the Tigers record and tie the MLB record.
As though the baseball, hotdogs, roasted almonds and bag of peanuts wasn't already a fantastic American Saturday night, the fireworks after the game perfected the evening. We drove home with a deep appreciate for how blessed we are, savoring such an incredible, spontaneous night together.
We will head back to Detroit in September, to celebrate The Mister's birthday at the ballpark and to close out the summer in the same way we ushered it in. God has truly blessed America and all of us fortunate enough to call this nation home.