Best. Lunch. Ever.

So, I had lunch today with the Texas Rangers World Series trophy. What did you do?

The Rangers are doing their best to share the joy of the team’s first ever championship by touring the World Series trophy all over the Republic of Texas. It made it to Midland today for a glorious 90-minute showcase at the Golden Chick on the south side of town. Golden Chick is a corporate sponsor for the Rangers; that’s the connection. The event was promoted to start at 10:30am and run through 12:00noon. I arrived at 10:15am. I wanted to be early. I didn’t know what to expect in terms of long lines and wait times for my personal moment with the hardware.

There were no lines.

When I pulled in, there were seven or eight random guys standing around in the parking lot, wearing a variety of Rangers shirts and caps. Perfect strangers. I joined them for an awkward couple of minutes. And then the Golden Chick manager opened the doors and we walked in together. Unsure. Expectant. I was breathless. I was thrilled at this exciting opportunity, but also very much aware that sometimes my experiences don’t match up to my expectations.

Once my eyes adjusted from the crisp sunlight outdoors to the fluorescent gloss of the restaurant, we noticed that the trophy was still being unpacked. Cheryl Springer, the Rangers Trophy Tour Coordinator, was wearing white gloves and carefully removing the 30-pound Tiffany treasure from its case. I watched in stunned silence as she placed the trophy on a perfectly centered stand and slowly, almost theatrically, removed the black velvet cloth.

I might have gasped. Quietly. My eyes might have misted up a bit. Maybe. The 2023 Texas Rangers World Series trophy was six feet away from me, in all of its gleaming glory.

Once Cheryl gave the go-ahead, the other guys all started taking pictures. They formed a bit of a line and, one at a time, handed their phones to Cheryl to snap their personal proof that the Rangers really did win a championship. Cheryl looked at me and said, “Are you going to get a picture?” I needed a minute. My eyes were more than a little misty now; I was on the verge of a full-on blubber.

If you know me well, you understand; if you don’t, you won’t. I was overcome all over again with the emotion of the long-awaited World Series win and how much fun it was and how long we had all suffered and all the great players of the past who got close and going to all those games my whole life with my brother and my dad and my daughters and celebrating the Fourth of July at the Ballpark with Carrie-Anne that first summer we were dating and the agony of one-strike-away and how we held our breath and each other’s hands during  that last Arizona at-bat and screamed when Josh Sborz spiked his glove and hugged each other and popped open the champagne and cried with unabashed joy.  Here it all was, flooding over me all over again. I needed a minute.

Someone I didn’t know said, “Hey, let’s get a group picture!” None of us knew each other, but none of us wanted this to be just a personal individual moment. This guy’s instincts were perfect. We were united in our love for the Rangers and in our desire to celebrate the title one more time. The Rangers were the reason we were all in that same Midland Golden Chick at the same time. So we gathered around the trophy and Cheryl took the picture. New friends.

And then I asked Cheryl to take a few pictures of me. Just a few.

People trickled in and out for those first 30-minutes. And then my friend Brandon Brunson showed up. This Brandon is the good Brandon, the Rangers fan; not Brandon Hill, the bad Brandon, the Astros fan. We took a couple of photos together with the trophy and then settled in for a nice lunch of chicken strips and fried okra, watching the fans come and go–all ages, all ethnicities, all different backgrounds and diverse histories with the team. We were sitting close enough to the trophy to hear most of the people sharing their stories with Cheryl. A dozen Midland fire fighters got a group pic with the trophy. An eleven-year-old boy, who did not suffer nearly as long as most of us, smiled really big for his shot. A fancy woman in Gucci logos from head to foot complained that none of her girlfriends would accompany her, but she had to come see it. Brandon and I really enjoyed that lunch together, in the shadow of the Rangers World Series trophy, watching the fans share their memories.

We were getting up to leave at about 11:45 when Cheryl came over and said, “Would you be able to stay for about ten more minutes?”

Um. Yes. What’s going on?

“I need help packing up the trophy and loading it into the truck.”

Brandon and I immediately sat back down.

Yes, we helped pack the Rangers World Series trophy back into its case. We helped cover it with the black velvet cloth. We carefully placed it inside the custom foam-filled steel traveling case. We secured the locks.

We helped Cheryl tear down the backdrop. And then Brandon and I wheeled the World Series trophy out the door and towards the truck that would carry it to Odessa this afternoon and Albany this evening. We giggled as we moved that historic cargo across the Golden Chick parking lot. My motives were not completely pure; I was trying to figure out how to get it to MY truck a few spaces over. What are the odds that we’d be moving the trophy like this? It was crazy.

We lifted it. Carefully. Slowly. I think, maybe, subconsciously trying to milk the moment to last as long as possible. We are contributing to the cause! We are integral to the program! Go team! We loaded it into the back of the official vehicle of the Texas Rangers World Series Trophy Tour and, after one last picture, slammed the gate shut. Brandon and I looked at each other with satisfied grins. Can you believe this?

Best. Lunch. Ever.

Is Albany too far to drive for dinner?

Peace,

Allan