My cousin had other plans and chose that very weekend to get married. The hell was i supposed to do? I couldn't miss her wedding. But also, it was Ryne fucking Sandberg. So I did what any sane human being would do.
My cousin had other plans and chose that very weekend to get married. The hell was i supposed to do? I couldn't miss her wedding. But also, it was Ryne fucking Sandberg. So I did what any sane human being would do.
I worked the first game of the series on a Thursday night, wrapped up my postgame some time between 11 and midnight, and then I waited for Baseball Advanced Media to update so that I could get started on the statpacks and media notes for Friday night's game.
I finished around 2 am. A quick 2 hour drive to Atlanta later, I was ready for my 5am flight back to Chicago. My mom picked me up at the airport and we headed straight to the clothing store because I may have forgotten a suit (oops).
I was dead ass tired at that wedding reception - which was held at Harry Caray's, ironic for two people who asked me to skip out on Sandberg weekend - but I managed to stay out drinking til 2 am before my body was like "the fuck is wrong with you? Go to bed."
I ended up flying back to Atlanta around noon, and landed around 3pm - finishing off Saturday night's game notes just prior to boarding the plane. I then sped my ass back to Birmingham and got back well in time before the 7pm first pitch.
I have no memory of the rest of the weekend except that Sandberg asked me for golf passes during the post game. I may have gotten them for him. But I cant remember. I hope I did, though because he was Ryne fucking Sandberg.