The Art of Scalping: 2004 Part Deux
By BRAD KELLEY
I left you at Yankee Stadium after the Red Sox made the greatest comeback in MLB history in the ALCS. They were down three games to zero, came back and won four straight, and I left Yankee Stadium in a frenzy. What Baltimore was trying to do to Kansas City this year has only been done once in the long and storied life of The National Pastime.
I needed to rest up and replenish my funds and get back to work, though the Red Sox were on to the Cardinals. They had lost a 7 game series to St.Louis in 1946 and again in 1967. I was a sophomore in high school in 1967 and I attended all 4 games in Fenway. The first two games were in Fenway this time, too. The plan was, I would sit those out because I actually had tickets for games six and seven back in Boston. When the Sox won both games in Fenway, they flew to St. Louis up 2-0. I was beginning to think about that destiny thing again. There may not be a game 6 or 7!
After the off night Monday they won again on Tuesday, and were one game away from ending that dreaded curse. It was exactly one week later than my trip to New York, and I woke up that morning and imposed upon Suzanne again to find me a plane ticket, this time to St. Louis.
There were no tickets to be had without spending a fortune, and I asked her to switch over to MapQuest. It was October 27, 2004 and interstate 70 would get me to St. Louis in about seven hours. I jumped in my car, the same old backpack and a little more cash, and headed west.
I was not going to miss this opportunity to celebrate with my Olde Town Team. The disappointment from 1946, 1975, 1978,1986, and 2003 was certainly on my mind, but I was sure this year would be different. About 5 PM I could see the Arch and was making my way into St. Louis. The sun was shining, and the river looked inviting.
This was the last year St. Louis would play in the old Busch Stadium, and right next-door was being built their beautiful new ballpark. St. Louis is an incredible baseball town and even though they were on the brink of elimination, the Cardinal fans were upbeat and excited. I thought for sure I would find a ticket without too much difficulty. After all, what’s one lousy ticket with all those seats available and St. Louis behind three games to zero.
I parked my car for eight dollars in a beautiful garage across the street from the ballpark which would cost $80 in Boston. I began my ritual of walking around the ballpark looking for that special person. I was having trouble. I went to a window where an older woman appeared to want to help me. I slid 3- $100 bills beneath the glass and asked if she could find me just one ticket anywhere in the ballpark. She immediately responded “You people from Boston make me sick”…needless to say, I misread her face.
I then saw a group of four young man spit and polished and looking dapper. They appeared to be up to something. I inquired of one of them what they were doing. This kid told me they had rented an airplane for $15,000, and flew there to witness this happening. The leader of this group had $4000 rolled up in a rubber band and was trying to bribe one of the fellows at the gate to let his group in. I asked if I could give him a few hundred dollars and tag along. I did! They struck out and I came to learn later that they never got into the ballpark because this old gatekeeper was not going to lose his job to let these punks into the ballpark.
I kept looking around, and finally, I found that group of three guys, who had that fourth ticket, belonging to a buddy who could not, for one reason or another, answer the bell. I suggested they sell me their ticket, make some beer money and hoist a few in honor of their friend. They made me beg, describe my love of baseball, and finally relinquished possession of that ducat. Not before $450 came out of my pocket, a tough bargain, but I could hear the National Anthem about to begin and I had come all this way!
It was worth every penny. The Sox swept the Cardinals to become World Champs. 86 years of heartache erased, just like that. I couldn’t stop smiling, I was getting calls from all over Boston, all over Ohio, almost as if I had won the game myself. This was a very personal mission, a long time in the making. It is very hard to put into words what it meant to so many people who waited so long.The long suffering of Red Sox Nation had finally come to an end.That ride home from St.Louis was unbelievable. I listened to the radio, and could not get enough. I finally stopped at a motel in Indiana and got a room. I was exhausted but more than anything, I wanted to watch all the highlights and ESPN and savor it all.
When I returned home my wife asked me what we were going to do with our game six and seven tickets. What would we do with the plane tickets? The first thing out of my mouth was, we are still going and we will be going to the parade! There were more than a million people lining the streets of Boston, and we were in the thick of it all. While in Boston, I visited the graves of my dad and my uncles, and all of those who waited so long for this magical moment. The memorabilia left at that cemetery that day would make a collector blush. I left a few pennants on a few gravestones and a lot of great memories.
We took the train into the city for the parade, and the trains were packed, not a seat to be had. If the train stopped short you couldn’t fall down because someone would catch you, it was so crowded. The stories were coming 1,000,000 miles an hour, and when the train ride ended, Suzanne and I sat in front of the Boston Public Library across the street from where the Marathon bombing would take place several years later, and watched the Duck Boats go by. I felt that I had finally delivered that Championship to all my relatives, and all those Red Sox fans who waited and waited. After all those failures, I had to see this through. Mission Accomplished! What a ride it was, from Fenway, to Yankee Stadium, to St.Louis and then back to Boston. I will never forget that feeling.