Now that I had finally gotten my Arizona Diamondbacks Season Ticket renewal package fixed, you would think I would have been relaxed but no the exact opposite was true. My stomach was twisted in knots and my blood pressure resembled Mark Reynolds strikeout total.
Today was the second deadline for season ticket renewal payment but it was also the deadline for turning in Seat Relocation forms. Seat relocation is a huge event in our house. My kids think of it as a giant game of musical chairs.
In their simplistic view of seat relocation, all of the Diamondbacks season ticket holders put their names in a hat requesting to have their seat location changed for the upcoming season. The Diamondbacks Season Ticket Representatives then group these fans together and invite them down to Chase Field.
Once at the stadium, the fans will listen to a brief presentation explaining the rules of the game. The fans are then released out into the stadium where they will find seats with white papers attached to the seat backs. As music plays on the stadium sound system, fans walk around all of these seats with the white papers eyeing the seats and the other fans.
When the music stops, the fans all run to one of the seats with the attached white paper. If more than one fan chooses the same seat then the winner will go to the person with the lower priority number. In the end, if you are not standing next to a seat with a white paper, you lose and you are sent back to the seat location you had last year.
I would love to tell you that my kids’ simplistic view of seat relocation was erroneous but in actuality that is pretty much how it works. In my mind there are two important aspects to winning the game of seat relocation. First, try to outwit the other season ticket holders by pretending that you are not interested in a seat all the while scoping out the other person’s priority number. Second, and perhaps most importantly, bring your kid who has the best sad puppy dog face with you to the stadium.
Never underestimate the value of tip number two. Last year I found the perfect seats and even had a low enough priority number that I was able to get the seats I wanted. At the last minute a woman came by with a priority number just under mine and snatched the seats away from me.
I happened to be alone when I went down to the seat relocation event last year. One middle-aged guy didn’t stand a chance against a little old lady wearing a dead peacock on her head. Besides, she was a grandmother and had her grandchild with her. I had absolutely no leverage. I mean who wants to fight with a grandma who is buying tickets for her grandkids?
I didn’t stand a chance. Even though grandma admitted she was only going to go to 10-15 games this season it was the thought of displacing a little kid with his grandma that relinquished the seats. The only chance I had was if I was dying and those seats were my Make-A-Wish wish; and that wasn’t the case.
When my season ticket account had fallen through the cracks, my priority number had disappeared too. That meant instead of having trusty 5,205 like I had the previous two seasons I was now assigned 10,832. Any hopes I had of relocating disappeared the moment I saw that number. I felt like the weight of the Chase Field roof was on my shoulders.
At the moment where I felt the lowest I received an email from the Arizona Diamondbacks Season Ticket office saying that there had been a mistake and that my priority number was in error. My priority number was instead 5,122. I let out a huge sigh of relief.
Granted, 5,122 is not exactly going to set the world on fire but it at least gets me in the same ballpark as the other players. Now if I can just get Dakota out of school that day and get him to perfect that sad puppy dog look that he uses on my wife whenever he wants to stay up an extra half hour past his bedtime; I might just stand a chance.
There are going to be a lot of sleepless nights between now and the week of October 25th when seat relocation begins at Chase Field. Between now and then I plan on wearing the Lucky Hat, and continuously rubbing my Sedona Red lucky rabbit’s foot while praying that everyone with a priority number lower than 5,121 has a flat tire the day of seat relocation. If I thought it would help I may even sacrifice a Kentucky Fried Chicken to the baseball gods.
Seat relocation isn’t just another event. It is much more important than that. After all, that one event determines where I am going to live next season. And considering that the Diamondbacks have never made the play-offs when my seats are on the first base side; this decision may have an impact on the final standings in the National League Western Division. So there is a lot of pressure riding on this decision.