Bobbing for Bobbleheads

There’s a moral to this story somewhere for how we live and what activities we spend our energies on: 

Once upon a time, there were two fanatical Diamondback fans (let’s call them Gene and Carol).  They were season ticket holders with 2 other acquaintances, attended about 25 games a year, watched as many of the others as time allowed on TV and generally gave up 6 months of each year to the pursuit of baseball.

They were giddy with glee when it was announced that the D-back organization was giving away Bobble head dolls, the first being one of Luis Gonzalez and made what they thought were good plans to get one of the 15,000 that were being given away on July 27.  They arrived at the park at 4:45, a full 15 minutes before the gates were to open (good enough for other give-aways they wanted), only to discover that others started lining up at 11:00AM that morning. 

Being Mensans, however, they quickly devised Plan B and split up:  Gene going in one line and Carol taking another, since the dolls were being given out at all gates.  At 5:00PM, the doors opened.  Within 15 minutes, Gene had achieved a doll and was safely inside the stadium.  Carol’s line, unfortunately, shuffled slowly along in 108 degree and ran out of dolls when Carol was 20 feet from the entrance.    Once inside, she saw that dolls were still being given away and went over to that table, but was blocked by a tall policeman who snarled she couldn’t get one unless she had entered through that particular gate.   

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.   Hot, tired, hungry and now frustrated, she made her way to her seat, red-faced (from the sun), sweaty and defeated (as, she might add, the D-backs were that night).

The following Friday, Randy Johnson Bobble Head dolls were being given away.  Gene and Carol decided enough was enough and gave away their tickets.  They had made other plans and the thought of a repeat of Saturday night was enough to dissuade them from canceling those plans and attending the game.  Carol’s co-worker, Glenn, was the beneficiary.  Glenn cared nothing about bobble head.  He only wanted to see a game at BOB, since he had never see the inside of the stadium.  A lay-back kind of guy, Glenn was determined to stay away from any of the frenzy surrounding the dolls and just experience the joy of attending a baseball game. 

Lines for the Bobble Heads started forming at 6:00 AM, the earliest time that line-ups were allowed.  The 6:00 AM crowd had spent the time in the cars determined not to miss the opportunity to pick up the new holy grail of Baseball give-aways.  At 3:30, Glenn was at his desk at work, still having to drive from northwest Phoenix to Tempe to pick up his wife and back to the ballpark.  He only wanted to get there before the 7:05 first pitch to be happy and he remained content with his timetable. 

Glenn got not one, but two, Bobble Heads (one for him, one for his wife).

Apparently, over 14,000 frenzied people waited up to 11 hours to get a doll.  Over 14,000.  But not quite 15,000.  So Glenn was able to stroll up while there were still a few dolls left and calmly claim his. 

As I said, there’s a moral here somewhere.  I’ll keep trying to figure it out.