Orioles play home run derby and I missed it all

Maybe I should call the folks at the Guinness Book of World Records because my friend Chris and I accomplished something that no one in the history of the planet has ever accomplished– and likely never will.

As you may recall, my neighbor Chris Swanson loves the Orioles so much he gave blood so he could receive two tickets to this past Thursday’s game against the Rangers at Camden Yards. Of course, he took me.

I’m a cool guy. He had no other choice.

But being invited to an Orioles game is not record-setting. But what happened at Camden Yards that afternoon certainly is debatable. Wednesday’s game was rained out, which caused a doubleheader to be scheduled for Thursday, with the first game at 4:05 p.m. and the nightcap at 7:05.

Chris didn’t have to work Thursday, but I did, so Chris could make the first game on time, but I couldn’t. We decided that I’d get there when I could and he’d run to the gate and pass me my ticket and we’d spend the rest of the night watching baseball.

But here’s what happened: Chris got to the ballpark about 45 minutes early, but the line was so long to exchange the voucher he received for giving blood for tickets, he missed the first inning.

And what happened? Well, nothing, unless nothing is baseball history.

Ryan Flaherty led off by homering to right, a 387-foot blast. Next up: J.J. Hardy. He took pitcher Colby Lewis deep – 432 feet deep to be exact – and just like that it was 2-0. Nick Markakis was up next and he smacked a shot off the right field foul pole and just like, the Orioles became the first team in American League history to hit back-to-back-to-back jacks to start a game.

Too bad Chris, who was in line getting tickets, missed it. Too bad for me, who was at home in Catonsville working, missed it. I was so dumb I didn’t even have the game on TV, which has to be at least three punches to my man card.

Anyway, I got to the game in fourth inning, met Chris and took our seats in the right-center field bleechers. Yes, I know the tickets we received were for seats in the upper deck. But when there are entire rows of empty seats, they become general admission, regardless of location – at least in my book. Seriously, did you think the usher was going to stop and check our tickets when there were maybe 6,000 fans to catch the start of the first game?

The weather was gorgeous, perfect for baseball, I popped the top of my 24-ounce Coke and basked in the glory of watching two first-place teams. The next few innings flew by, with nothing really happening except we are making a mess at our seats since Chris brought a five-pound bag of peanuts. My guess is by night’s end, we had eaten, I don’t know, probably 4.16 pounds of nuts. I didn’t throw one shell in the trash, either. My mother would be so proud.

I know what you are thinking here: Why is Chris supplying everything? He got the tickets and the peanuts and the soda. Is Jon Gallo really that much of a freeloader? Answer: No. I bought dinner, which meant spending $6.50 for an Italian sausage for Chris at Pollack Johnny’s. He said it was good. For $6.50, it better have been good. I could have gotten him pretty much an extra value meal at McDonald’s for $6.50. And he would have gotten a sandwich, fries and a drink.

The seventh-inning stretch arrives and since I had just drank 24 ounces of soda just like Chris, we figured what better time to go to the bathroom than while “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” blares over the loud speaker?

Bad move. Quite possibly the worst one I’ve ever made at a sporting event.

Here’s why: We just moved too slowly. A few feet from the bathroom, we hear the crowd begin to roar and the sounding of an air-raid horn, which means one thing: Adam Jones just homered. I watch Jones circle the bases on a TV in the concourse.

As we are doing our business, Matt Wieters walks. As Chris and I walk toward our seats, the crowd roars again. Air-raid sounds. Wilson Betemit has hit a 402-foot home run.

“You know, I’d really like to see one of the home runs,” said Chris, sporting his Markakis jersey over the T-shirt he received for donating blood. “They’ve hit five and I’ve missed them all.”

“Me, too,” I replied.

We returned to our seats and guess what? The guy in the row in front of us has Betemit’s ball. Now, I’m not saying I’m the world’s greatest athlete, but if my bladder would have been tougher, I’d have caught my first home run ball. I would have used my left hand to push the guy in front of me – the guy who caught it – out of the way and used my right hand to snare the ball. This is a skill I’ve learned from years of grabbing the last chicken wing or slice of pizza at football gatherings.

Now, why is this story worthy of a record? Because the Orioles got just five hits in their 6-5 win.

They were all home runs.

And Chris and I didn’t see any of them live despite having tickets to the game.

Seriously, will this feat ever be duplicated? First, you have to attend a game in which an American League team has to hit three home runs in its first at-bat and you can’t see any of them. Secondly, the team can’t have any hits that aren’t home runs. Thirdly, the team has to hit two more home runs and you have to be away from your seat when they are hit.

Do you think the Baseball Hall of Fame will request I send them my Coke bottle? I’m also saving my ticket – just in case.