Bad memories boost good ones

The good memories come and go, but the great memories need the bad ones to elevate them. The girl you marry makes up for the bad relationships before. Beating the video game makes up for all the times you threw your controller in frustration. And the best baseball game you've ever seen makes up for the rollercoaster it took you on.

I rode it last Wednesday night in Arlington, Texas. I was there for my first Rangers series, a four-game set against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. I'd sat in various sections during the series, with Wednesday the third game in the set. The Angels had won the first two, and I was worried about the American League West Division tightening on the Rangers and being there to witness the collapse.

Wednesday night was my night to sit in the cheap seats, which could just as easily be called the, "You must not like shade," section. As I sat there in the second inning, with the Rangers down 6-0, my phone battery drained, surrounded by other upset fans while remaining all alone, I wondered why I made the trip.

I decided to get some hot chocolate, in memory of a former Rangers announcer who mocked such purchases in triple-digit heat. By the time I returned to my seat, the Rangers were working on a four-run inning.

I'd like to think the baseball gods took over. The nearby fans and I bonded, as we talked about Bill Murray movies and other ballparks we'd visited. We high-fived on every Rangers play that got the game closer, or even plays that kept the game close like a play at the plate to keep the lead 7-6 Angels going into the bottom of the ninth.

We hugged when Ian Kinsler's game-tying homer landed 15 feet from us, and I high-fived the guy who caught it on a bounce. We fell silent as the Angels went ahead on a solo homer by Chris Iannetta in the 10th, and cursed the fans who left when Albert Pujols homered to make it 10-7.

We got rewarded in the bottom of the inning, when the Rangers scored four runs and won it on Elvis' Andrus' bases-loaded single. I high-fived everybody, hugged the hecklers and we even exchanged names, because it would have felt dirty otherwise. I even led a "Let's Go, Rangers," cheer from the centerfield tunnel to the streets. It was easily the best baseball game I'd ever seen.

Now, a good game doesn't make the bad memories go away. Without context, I can say, "Game 6," and it causes the same gut punch with Texas Rangers fans and Boston Red Sox fans, no matter what has happened or will happen from that point.

But you never turn away a good memory, and you hold on to whatever you thought caused it. I think it's the hot chocolate I got in the fourth inning, but the woman next to me on the hotel shuttle said it was her mere presence; the Rangers were now 3-0 when she attended. I deferred to her, because as Crash Davis said, "A player on a streak has to respect the streak."

I trust she came the next day, as the Rangers won easily and I didn't even buy a hot chocolate. I settled for a regular-price hot dog, which except for the price is completely superior to the dollar hot dog, and high-fived the new strangers I sat by on Thursday.

I've got a lot of memories from the trip. Seeing a college friend. Eating an extra ticket because I didn't know anybody free. The sunburn I'm still peeling away from my day at the water park. The best memory, by far, had to be soaking in the hotel spa as Wednesday became Thursday, thinking of the greatest baseball game I'd ever seen and only topping it with one thought.

The game that will replace it, and the mystery of when I'll see it.

Kevin Wilson is a columnist for Clovis Media Inc. He can be contacted at 763-3431, ext. 313, or by email:

[email protected]