WHEW!!!

Tony Altobelli

Things happen for a reason.

I’ve always believed in that motto, but that way of life had never

slammed me right between the eyes quite like the events that transpired

this past Sunday.

The 2001 Daily Pilot Youth Baseball Dream Team was picked and their

pictures were taken at Davis Field, also known as Airplane Park.

Of the 12 youngsters selected, only 11 showed up for the pictures. One

player, Thomas Southern, was missing in action.

Despite the missing lad, we went ahead with our 11 studs in training.

We took the pictures, got lots of smiles from the athletes and the

parents in attendance and called it a day around 1:30 p.m. “Now I can

officially start my day off,” I declared, mentally.

With one player’s parents late for pick-up, I delayed my day-off

fiesta, hung around and played catch with the kid to kill some time until

picker-upper arrived.

After 30 minutes of chucking below-average knuckleballs as well as

some accurate and not-so-accurate fastballs, the player’s ride showed up

and we parted ways.

Upon my arrival back at the Daily Pilot, I noticed three messages.

Afraid to check them for fear of having to work longer on my day off, I

noticed two of the messages were from Thomas Southern’s mom, Michelle.

She said in her mildly-paniced message that she got lost, missed the

photo shoot and was wondering if we could try again. Always, the team

player, I called her back and arranged a time with her to meet again at

Davis Field around 2:45 p.m.

“Great,” I’m thinking. “Now I’ve got to go back to Davis Field, miss

the rest of the Chicago Cubs game on TV and lose more lazy time from my

day off.”

With my negative-Nancy attitude on board, I made the trek back to

Davis Field to await the arrival of our 12th Dream Teamer.

As I was moping in the dugout, I couldn’t help but notice something

round and shiny in the infield, near the dugout entrance on the

first-base side.

As I stooped down to pick it up I realized it was a ring of some sort.

“Hmmm,” I wondered. “One of the parents must have lost their wedding

ring. I’m glad I was able to come back and get it for them. Wonder if

I’ll get a cash reward or something.” Am I a keeper, or what?

I tried to remember the names of each parent who stayed around for the

pictures and tried to figure out the many ways I could happily spend the

reward money, when all of a sudden, I took a quick glance at the ring and

nearly fell to the floor.

The ring I found was mine.

Not only that -- Sunday was the day after my first-year wedding

anniversary. WOW!

It must have fallen off when I took off my baseball glove after

playing catch with the Dream Teamer. I told Thomas’ mother what had just

transpired before she arrived and she nearly fell to the floor in

amazement. Talk about being at the right place at the right time.

So, on behalf of myself, my wife, my ring finger and my

soon-to-be-tighter wedding ring, I thank Thomas Southern and family for

missing the original photo shoot. Sorry, honey, but I’ll save my trip to

the dog house for later. A month-long trip to the living-room couch was

averted, barely.