Being married as long as I have you would think I would be able to recognize a trap when I see one. But being an average American male I am completely oblivious to the nuances of the female species. I did briefly glance over my wife’s shoulder at the calendar just to make sure I knew the date. Confident, I replied, “Sure! Today is the day that Aaron Hill hit for the first of two cycles in the 2012 season.”

I followed that with a look of confidence like I just aced the ACT and would be getting phone calls from all of the Ivy League schools begging me to enroll in their institutions. From the looks of my wife’s face, she did not share the confidence of my answer. How could she possibly doubt my baseball knowledge? I’m like the Rain Man of Diamondbacks trivial information. All that was lacking was a countdown to how many minutes until Judge Wapner and an explanation that I buy all my underwear at K-Mart (because the Diamondbacks do not carry Dbacks underwear at the team shop).

Still, I could tell that perhaps my answer was incomplete. My mind raced to remember what other non-baseball trivia could be attributed to today. Then it hit me like an Ian Kennedy fastball to Zack Greinke’s shoulder. Today was the anniversary of perhaps the greatest save in the history of the Arizona Diamondbacks.

A year ago at about this same time of day on this exact same date I got the exact same question from the exact same lady and was met with the exact same evil eye. At that time though I felt confident that it was just another day which would end with a fun-filled evening at the Arizona Diamondbacks game where the home team would take on the Seattle Mariners in an Interleague game.

What had slipped my mind was the fact that it was also my wedding anniversary; my 31st wedding anniversary to be exact. My wife in her devious own way was not about to remind me of that fact except for this one question during breakfast. I went on the rest of the day looking forward to first pitch and seeing Wade Miley continue his domination hopefully winning his eighth game of the season.

It was not until just before game time that it dawned on me that it was our anniversary. By this time it was too late for me to recover, or so I thought. I was going to be sleeping on the couch for a very long time for this one I could tell.

So what did I do? I did the same thing I do whenever I have a problem in my life. I called the Arizona Diamondbacks. I didn’t just call anyone; I called my Season Ticket Representative Jamie Gostyla. Jamie is like a member of the family. She not only knows my seat location but she knows all about my wife and kids. She’s like an extremely underpaid therapist who has somehow ticked off the management of the Diamondbacks and as a punishment was given my account to manage.

Jamie in her usual manner was calm and collected on the phone while I was freaking out that my life was soon to be over and I would be sleeping on the couch again. I wasn’t that stressed about the couch, I’m used to that. My bigger fear was that at some point I was going to irritate my wife enough that she would finally leave me and take my season tickets with her.

After explaining my dilemma to Jamie she calmly reassured me that my life was not over. (Who knew that Season Ticket Representatives were also masters of the suicide hotline?) Jamie told me to come see her at the season ticket booth behind Section 111 and she would do the rest.

So we made our way down to Chase Field and as we walked around the concourse before the game I slipped away and met with Jamie. There she gave me a pass to the Sedona Club and suggested I make my way down behind the Diamondbacks dugout.

For those who have never been to the Sedona Club, you don’t know what you are missing. It is an intimate little eatery under the stands and behind the Diamondbacks dugout. It’s difficult to get into as you normally have to have special seats to gain access.

I casually led Trina down to the Sedona Club doing my best James Bond imitation like I completely knew what I was doing. An extremely courteous usher who asked if we were Jeff and Trina met us at the door. I am not sure who was more shocked by that question, my wife or me?

He led us to a table that had been reserved with our names on it. He congratulated us on being married so long and made sure we had the best time at Chase Field. After an amazing dinner (you have to try the hamburger with the caramelized onions; they are to die for) we had dessert and arrived back at our seats just before first pitch.

During the game we were featured on Kiss Cam, the first time in 15 seasons that has happened. By the seventh inning I had my best girl holding my hand and whispering to me this was the greatest anniversary present I had ever given her. I know, the Dbacks were up 7-1 and Hill was going for the cycle!

So while the game may have ended with a Diamondbacks blow-out it will go down in my books as the greatest save in the history of the franchise and my marriage and it was all because of the amazing team the Diamondbacks have put together that has nothing to do with the product on the field.

The only problem is that I will never be able to top it again. But I am off to a great start. Today is starting off just about like a year ago. Excuse me; I have to make a phone call. I REALLY hope Jamie is working today. I seem to have gotten myself into another pickle.

The Arizona Diamondbacks are one of the more active franchises when it comes to Social Media. They are involved heavily on multiple fronts. From their Facebook page to the Instagram account to the numerous Twitter accounts fans have the ability to interact with the team in ways no one could have dreamed just a few short seasons ago. Besides the official Diamondbacks they also have accounts for D.Baxter their lovable mascot and a relatively new Diamondbackers account which touts itself as the “Official D-backs Fan Twitter Account”. Every couple of weeks the Diamondbacks select a fan to run the account and tweet from a fan’s perspective. On the surface that seems like a good idea but sometimes even good ideas can go directions that no one anticipated. Yesterday was just such an occasion.

Currently Riley Rico, a dedicated Diamondbacks fan who seems to be generally enjoying the experience, is manning the Diamondbackers account. Things were going well during Riley’s tenure until yesterday when a rather innocuous tweet caused a firestorm and led me to question what constitutes being a fan.

At the center of the storm are a fan and two players. Yesterday during a game between the Atlanta Braves and the Philadelphia Phillies former Arizona Diamondbacks All-Star and face of the franchise Justin Upton hit two moon shot home runs that may not have landed yet. These are the types of home runs that fans in Arizona longed to see from Upton on a regular basis and reminded all of us what kind of untapped potential Upton has. The Diamondbackers account posted a benign comment lamenting how we won’t be seeing home runs like that at Chase Field. This touched off a lengthy and heated series of tweets from the self-proclaimed Diamondbacks nation questioning a fan’s loyalty. As if that were not bad enough, current Diamondbacks outfielder Adam Eaton weighed in un-following the Diamondbackers account and suggesting the fan “Get a clue”.

Wading through the conversations it became clear that to many being a fan simply means posting nothing but positive comments and blindly following whatever the team does regardless of how it impacts the game. You cannot be a supporter or call yourself a fan if you are not 100 percent behind everything the team does. There is no place for loyalty to an individual suggesting that only the name on the front of the jersey matters not who is wearing it. What I find rather amusing is that many of these same people are ones who were up in arms at the conclusion of the 2006 season when the Arizona Diamondbacks released Luis Gonzalez choosing to go a different direction and turning their back on the “face of the franchise”.

Does being a fan mean that you cannot question the decisions being made by the team or wondering aloud whether the product on the field is the best it could be? Blindly following a team and cheering no matter what that team does doesn’t constitute being a fan it makes you a lemming. A fan’s role should be much more than that. We are the keepers of the game. It is the fans that determine the wellbeing of baseball. Commissioner Selig, the 30 franchises, and the players may think they own the game but it is the fans that are empowered to make sure the game survives and is the best it can possibly be.

In order to do that we must be diligent and question everything that goes on both on and off the field. It is our responsibility to question the motives of teams such as the Florida Marlins who seem to only be interested in turning a quick dollar. It is we the fans who should withhold our support for players that are linked to performance enhancing drugs and those who cheat the game. We are the ones who should question every decision that a team makes to ensure that our favorite teams are not being mismanaged.
I’m ok with comments such as those made by the Diamondbackers. Baseball needs to understand we are watching them and we will continue to evaluate their performance based upon the decisions they are making. That doesn’t mean we don’t care or we don’t support the team. On the contrary it means we do care and we will hold players, front office, and the sport to a higher standard.

Players such as Adam Eaton should understand that better than anyone. He has had to fight and scrap to reach the levels he has. He has never expected to be handed these opportunities but has seized the chances he was given. How would he feel if the Diamondbacks tomorrow decided he was expendable like the players that were moved this past off-season? Replaced with others who in his mind may not be as good as he is? It is the fans that should advocate and question the motives of the teams. When a deal goes down that looks questionable they should raise those concerns so the team knows that we’re watching and we care. We don’t need blind followers who stand by cheering while baseball makes decisions that affect the future of a franchise and possibly turn away generations of fans. I’m not advocating chaos where we boo everyone or every move that is made but it should mean that we have the right and the ability to comment on the state of the team without fear of loyalty being questioned and the players should appreciate that we do this because we are fans.

While most of the country is digging out from under drifts of snow and ice, in Arizona we are worrying about whether we have packed enough sun screen and whether it might be too warm to sit in your seats for an entire nine-inning game. For six weeks fans find excuses to slip out work for an afternoon at the ballpark to see their favorite players and get a glimpse of who may make the team when the regular season starts. It is pretty much the perfect place to live if you are a baseball fan.

Normally I try to attend all of the Arizona Diamondbacks home games during Spring Training. I have two season tickets two rows above the Dbacks dugout on the third base side of Salt River Fields. I’m surrounded by other diehard fans who like myself live for the gates to open so they can make their way to their seats and watch this amazing game. My family sometimes questions my sanity. How is it possible for someone to be this dedicated to baseball? It’s bad enough that they have to endure 81 days at Chase Field each year but to then add another 18 games at Salt River Fields seems like insanity.

I try to explain the passion I have for the game but rarely do they get it. Today though happened to be a rare exception. Earlier this month I received an email from Marcie Taylor, the Social Media Strategist for the Smile Generation, asking if I would be interested in attending a Diamondbacks Spring Training game as their guest. Normally I would politely decline especially when offered tickets by a dentist. I have a healthy lifelong fear of dentists that stem from my earliest recollection of my first visit to Dr. Payne. No, I’m not making this up. My parents sent me to a dentist who a) was named pain, b) did not believe in Novocain, and c) hated children. If the witch in Hansel and Gretel had a son that went to medical school this would be the guy. To this day the mere sound of a dental drill will put me in the fetal position. I just knew if I accepted baseball tickets from a dentist I would get there and some guy would tie me to a seat with dental floss and scream at me until my gums bleed.

Marcie seemed like a nice person and she assured me that accepting the tickets would not result in half my mouth going numb or me drooling down the side of a ballpark beer. They were looking for someone who would tweet about their experiences at the game and mention them in a blog post. I secretly wondered whether Marcie had actually read any of the blather I put on Twitter. I’m probably not the guy she wanted but it was baseball and tickets to watch the Diamondbacks so I agreed.

The tickets to the game arrived and I started to get excited. We had four seats meaning I could not only attend the game but I could bring my wife, daughter, and my grand daughter Lily who just turned three a week ago. In the days leading up to the game Lily was counting down the time until we would go to the ballpark. Considering what a diehard fan I am, it should come as no surprise that this is not the first game Lily has attended. She is a seasoned pro already around the ballpark and she is quickly becoming a huge baseball fan.

The game was a night game against the Milwaukee Brewers. When I got home Lily was already waiting for me with her Diamondbacks shirt, Diamondbacks rattle, Diamondbacks beads, and Diamondbacks hat. All the way from our house to Salt River Fields I heard her in the back seat telling everyone she was going to see the players who were back in town after an extended off-season. They would be seeing the Diamondbacks play in their Sedona Red jerseys. Lily may be the only three year-old that differentiates red from Sedona Red when shown her colors. I have no idea where she got that.

When we arrived at the stadium we made our way down to Section 113 Row 12, which is right behind home plate. The game looked amazing from that vantage point. To our right was Section 112 where all of the scouts and Diamondbacks player personnel sit. Each pitch was being tracked and as the pitcher began his windup I looked over at a sea of radar guns. I was slightly worried that with that much radar gun radiation I would leave the ballpark bald but with a great tan.

Shortly after first pitch D. Baxter the Diamondbacks mascot came by to the delight of Lily. She was able to get her picture taken with her favorite mascot and after he left the first time she turned to me and said, “Baxter is cool. He is even cooler than Mickey Mouse.” Wow! Lily obviously has a crush on Baxter as she spent half the game looking around to see where he was at and what he was doing. He was great stopping by a couple of times to visit and playing games with the kids.

We spent the evening watching baseball. Three generations of our family sat in the stands soaking in the sights and sounds of baseball. We talked about the trips to Bank One Ballpark/Chase Field where I took my daughter when she was younger and what baseball meant to her now because of it. We talked about how enthusiastic Lily was already becoming and how even now she referred to herself as a Diamondbacks fan.

As the game ended we walked out of Salt River Fields. I had Lily by the hand as we made our way to the parking lot. She never stopped talking about the game. She recounted every detail from the corn dog and peanuts she ate to seeing Baxter to rooting for Relish in the Hot Dog Races to watching Gerardo Parra hit a home run. These memories will stay with her and with me forever and I have a dentist to thank for that. Maybe I’ve been too hard on dentists; maybe Dr. Payne was just a frustrated Cubs fan. All I know for sure is that I smiled all the way to the ballpark and back thanks to the Smile Generation.

Our master closet can safely be described in two eras. The first I call the “Classic Section”. Here you will find polo shirts in purple, white, black, and the one teal shirt that I own. Among the artifacts in this portion of the closet is my inaugural season apparel which includes my 1998 Opening Day T-shirt that they sold on March 31, 1998 on the concourse before the gates open. This section also houses all of my “throwback” jerseys meaning anything that has the team colors prior to 2007.

The second section of the closet is simply called the “Sedona Red Section”. In this area you will find shirts in the new color scheme including my 2007 and 2011 NL Western Division Championship shirts like the players wore after making the post season. This section also has all of my jerseys post-2007 in the new color scheme including the special 2011 All-Star Game jersey with my name on it thanks to a wonderful wife and Derrick Hall.

It used to be that the “Classic Section” was the largest part of the closet. From the statistics I’ve seen over 60 percent of our laundry was in the purple and/or black realm. Over time that part of the closet has been overtaken and the majority of our closet now falls to the Sedona Red or Sonoran Sand piles at an alarming 70 percent. Don’t get the wrong idea, not all of my clothes have an Arizona Diamondbacks logo. I have 2 shirts that have the Major League Baseball logo and one Chicago Cubs batting jersey just to remind myself of how bad things could have been.

Normally the “Classic Section” and the “Sedona Red Section” are clearly segregated. I never considered bussing my clothes from one section of the closet to the other. Does that make me a closet clothes racist?

Anyway, the Diamondbacks have recently been holding “throwback” nights where the team went back to the traditional Purple, Teal, Black, and Copper. I still have a hard time thinking of that as “throwback” but it has been good to see some of my old friends again and by friends I mean clothes. Today though I was being banished to the outer darkness of the closet beyond the MC Hammer parachute pants and even farther than the white polyester suit I wore to a ‘70’s party. There were clothes back there that time had forgotten and in most cases that was a very good thing.

Using my arms as a machete I hacked my way through the plaid, the paisley, and polyester jungle hoping to find the long lost back wall of the closet. I felt a little bit like Indiana Jones especially when I pulled out some first generation Diamondbacks shirts and couldn’t help myself when I muttered, “Snakes, why did it have to be snakes?”

Like the famous archeologist I too found a treasure buried deep within the earth or in this case the closet. The very last item on the rack was a jersey I had not seen since 1999. A jersey so rare that many people think it is only a myth. I am talking of course about the Turn Ahead the Clock Jersey.

What is Turn Ahead the Clock you ask? It was a promotion that swept through Major League Baseball during the 1999 season sponsored in part by Century 21 Real Estate. Each team held one night where instead of turning back the clock and celebrating a team’s past they turned the clock ahead to show fans what baseball might be like in 2027.

The promotion started as an idea by the Seattle Mariners marketing team. They brought the idea to the players and Ken Griffey Jr. loved it. He went so far as to paint the players’ cleats with silver spray paint. The fans had a blast with it so MLB pushed it out to all of the teams. The Arizona Diamondbacks held their Turn Ahead the Clock night on September 11, 1999 against the Philadelphia Phillies. Lucky fans in attendance were given a chrome looking baseball cap called a “space lid”.

The graphics on the scoreboard were given a futuristic look and the small boards where pitch counts and pitch speed would show previous MVP winners that were in the future suggesting minor league players like Jack Cust would have great success at the major league level.

The uniforms were black with a snake wrapped around the torso. Players names on the back went vertically down one side with future styled numbers on the back. At the time it was fun and my kids talked and talked about the promotion. Given the buzz it created I kind of expected we would see a repeat of the promotion but MLB and the majority of fans were not impressed. The Diamondbacks never played in those uniforms again and it was impossible to try and get one. For whatever reason I was fortunate enough to obtain a Turn Ahead the Clock jersey. I was excited to find this treasure in the back of the closet. When I showed my wife she shrieked which I can only assume meant she shared my excitement for what I had found. I was therefore a little confused when she asked whether I was going to “get rid of that thing”. Well duh, no way am I getting rid of it. I figure that if the Diamondbacks do enough throwback jersey nights they will have no choice but to use the Turn Ahead the Clock jerseys and when they do, I’ll be proudly sporting one in the stands. Yup, I am going to be one styling dude. All I need now is to find that silver space lid to top it off.

Was this a trick question? When I hear the words “baby” and “shower” even remotely in the same sentence is makes my legs quiver and I get an uncontrollable urge to stuff disposable diapers in my ears to drown out the sound. I am pretty sure that if there is a baby shower planned at my house that will be the last place I will be around. “Oh darn, Saturday was the day I promised to drive to Salt River Fields to cover the Arizona Diamondbacks Spring Training workouts.” I said sounding as journalistic as I could.

Spring Training workouts? Oh man there is no way she is going to buy that. I can’t believe that was the best I could come up with. I quickly added, “You know it is the first day minor league camp and they will be doing PFPs and maybe LBP and there’s that prospect I have been dying to take a look at. It’s purely scientific. If there are injuries on the 25-man roster I’d like to know whether the WAR value on that outfielder is as drastic as the numbers suggest.” Oh yeah, that definitely sounded a lot more convincing. I looked up and my wife was staring at me.

“So basically you are going to drive 30 miles to go watch 2 guys who don’t even know you exist play catch.” Wow, that one cut pretty deep. “No I’m sure they know who I am, I have a Twitter account.” Yeah I didn’t even believe that last one.
She shook her head and walked away. I was not about to stick around and see if she bought my story or if she was going into the other room to retrieve the gigantic Honey-Do List Baby Shower Edition to have me sweep, mop, dust, or worse move my bobbleheads to the other room to make room for the shower. First off, the bobbleheads were here way before the mother-to-be and second, in the event that no one shows up to the shower they can at least arrange the bobbleheads in a circle to make it seem like it is a packed crowd.

I grabbed my camera, my Diamondbacks hat, and my car keys and ran for the door before my wife could get back. I set my phone on low vibrate just to give myself a little plausible deniability if she happened to call wondering where I went.
It was a beautiful day for a drive to Spring Training. Temperatures were in the low 70’s and there was not a cloud in the sky. By the time I arrived at Salt River Fields major league workouts were finished and the minor league players were not yet on the field. I wandered around and waited for the players to arrive. As I sat there on the bench I took a deep breath. Baseball was finally back. Sounds of lawn mowers were going in the distance and somewhere there was a lone player in the batting cage hitting off a tee. I was at peace knowing the off-season was now a thing of the past.

I watched as the minor league ballplayers made their way to the field and went through stretching drills before breaking up into several stations. I watch batting practice where Evan Frey stroked balls to the outfield wall. His swing looks good and he was keeping his head still during his swing. I then walked over and watched pitchers fielding practice (PFP) just in case my wife asked. Mark Grace was at first base working with the fielders during drills.

All-in-all I spent three peaceful hours wandering around the minor league fields watching the future of the Arizona Diamondbacks. It was the perfect day even if I did miss seeing grown women sitting around talking about how large another woman’s stomach was or what odd food cravings they each had during pregnancy. Baseball is not just a game; it’s the perfect alibi to getting out of a baby shower.

Times they had indeed changed from even a year ago when the Diamondbacks looked to be committed to their young batch of talent and the promise they held as they reached their prime. In less than four months time the team had jettisoned a cruise ship full of talent and along with it most of the marketable names they had.

For the past few years the Diamondbacks had banked on Justin Upton fulfilling the seemingly endless hyperbola of being the next great superstar in Major League Baseball. He was compared to Kirk Gibson, Ken Griffey Jr., and Mickey Mantle. We all bought into the idea that J-Up would find his groove and carry this team to the World Series and become a household name bringing baseball relevance to the Arizona Desert.

Looking back it was probably unfair for the team and the fans to put that much pressure on someone who was barely old enough to drink. It got to the point that Upton was in a no-win situation. He could never live up to the hype and any misstep he made was magnified as the face of the franchise.

Fans were evenly split on whether they were happy or disgusted at the Diamondbacks trading this young talent. While I started out being among those who were less than impressed with Upton as a person let alone an ambassador of the Diamondbacks I had mellowed and began to understand some of the pressure he was feeling.

Upton was never going to become Luis Gonzalez. He doesn’t have that kind of personality nor has he had to deal with the notion that he might not be as talented as others to play the game. Few Diamondbacks fans remember that the trade that brought Gonzalez to Arizona was not so much that the Diamondbacks wanted Gonzalez as it was they did not want Karim Garcia. Even the Detroit Tigers did not value Gonzalez as they not only sent him to Arizona but also paid most of his salary just to get him out of town.

No, we don’t remember that part because humble Luis Gonzalez blossomed in the desert and led a team to the only World Series championship they would ever see. Gonzo as the fans knew him went out of his way to sign every autograph or take any opportunity to make a fan feel special. Gonzalez understood he was just a part of a much greater game and was just grateful that baseball allowed him to stick around as long as they did.

In a sense Diamondbacks fans were spoiled. They did not have to endure the decades of failure like the Cubs or deal with arrogant superstars like the Yankees. The only thing they knew was that owner Jerry Colangelo loved winning at any cost and character mattered when it came to players.

When former GM Josh Byrnes unceremoniously shipped Gonzalez out of town there was a fan revolt (well as much of a revolt as fans in Arizona could muster). How dare this team turn its back on “the face of the franchise”. The backlash resulted in a mad search for a new face that fans and marketing could rally around.

It started with the failed attempt to make Eric Byrnes be the face but injuries and a bad contract doomed that relationship. When Upton burst upon the scene he was a young ballplayer who could potentially be the best that ever played the game. It was perfect except for one thing. Upton never really wanted to be the face of the franchise. He never seemed comfortable allowing the fans to get to know him. He was much to reserved for the fans liking and in their eyes he didn’t seem to care enough about what they thought.

One of the first things I was asked when the Diamondbacks traded Upton was, “who is the face of the franchise now?” It’s an interesting question and one that I have pondered myself. A franchise needs a face, one that people look at and can relate to. It needs to be someone who they respect but also someone who respects the game. It needs to be someone who is going to be with the team through thick and thin. Someone who despite the ups and downs that come with a baseball season will have the team’s best interests at heart.

After pondering this for a while I have come up with an unorthodox answer to the question. The face of the Arizona Diamondbacks should be its fans. Players come and go but it is the fans who will be there every single game. It is the fans who sacrifice their hard earned time and money to support this team.

A misguided General Manager or member of the front office may trade away a future Hall of Fame player. A player development staff may erroneously undervalue a prospect or not position a player for success. Any of these could impact the short-term or in some cases long-term fortunes of a franchise. A fan just accepts it. In some cases they accept it because there is not a lot they can do about it but in other cases they accept it because they know that no matter what the results baseball is still the greatest game on Earth and they would do anything to be at the ballpark.

That is what the face of a franchise should be. It should be someone or some group that understands it’s not one person that represents a love of baseball but a community that sticks together through success and adversity and gives back to the game more than what the game had to offer.

So the next time you are out and you are proudly wearing your Diamondbacks gear remember, you are the face of the franchise. You are the one who is making a difference. Act accordingly; be respectful of the team but know that they wouldn’t exist without you no matter which players are currently on the roster.

“Of course I know what day it is. I have been waiting for this day to come for months. I have been eagerly planning every move I would make this day so it is the most memorable day of the year,” I said confidently. “I mean we’ve only been waiting 133 days 15 hours 14 minutes and 34 seconds for this. Position players for the Arizona Diamondbacks report to Spring Training!”

From the somewhat puzzled look on her face I could tell that she had forgotten it was such a monumental day in our lives. The long dark winter was over, the players were back in town and soon the air would be filled with the sounds of baseballs hitting a mitt, the crack of the bat, and the smells of fresh cut grass. Just the thoughts of these things had my heart racing. How in the world could she have forgotten something as important as this? Before I could even utter a syllable of how disappointed I was that she had forgotten this special day she said, “today is Valentine’s Day.”

Wait, what? What kind of idiot would schedule Valentine’s Day to be the same day as position players reporting to Spring Training? In the back of my mind I was already formulating a nasty email to the Hallmark Corporation. I was pretty sure they were behind this fiasco with their little greeting card and calendar monopoly filling women’s heads with hearts and cupids instead of fastballs and sliders.

In the midst of my thought process about what I was going to say to Mr. Hallmark I sort of space out and quit listening to my wife. Sadly, this is not a rare occurrence as I am reminded almost daily. I tuned in long enough to hear a few key phrases such as “if you loved me”, “think about the Diamondbacks”, “second to baseball”, “other wives”, and “powdered raccoons”. Ok I am not exactly sure I heard “powdered raccoons” but I wasn’t about to ask for clarification on that one.

Clearly I was going to need to regroup faster than Adam Eaton chasing down a fly ball in center field if I was going to make a shoestring catch saving the game, I mean holiday. I made some excuse about needing to go find an outlet for “powdered raccoon”, grabbed my hat and rushed for the garage door.

Ok so what could I possibly do to redeem myself and show my wife that I really had not forgotten it was Valentine’s Day? My first thought was a personalized Willie Bloomquist World Baseball Classic Team USA jersey. I mean seriously what says I love you quite like bold “USA” across your chest and Bloomquist on the back? In fact, what would be even better would be matching jerseys for both of us. Yeah, now that would be sweet. A call down to the Team Shop made me realize my idea was too good. They did not have matching Team USA jerseys and in fact the woman on the phone seemed a little confused like I was the only one who would even consider such an amazing gift idea.

My next thought was Spring Training tickets. What woman would not want a pair of Spring Training tickets to Salt River Fields to see the Diamondbacks take on anybody? It was a brilliant idea until I remembered my wife’s final words as I left the house, “I’m really hoping this is the one year my gift is not baseball related.” I honestly thought she was joking. I mean you can’t be serious right? Still, I’m not sure I was willing to chance it.

Thinking of non-baseball related gifts is kind of a stretch for me. Ok, let’s be honest that’s pretty much the farthest thing from my mind. After all, I’m the guy that got his wife a silky nightgown with the Diamondbacks logo on it for her anniversary. No really, it was pretty much the coolest thing ever until one of the kids ruined it asking if that was so mom could be more gritty.

I’ve seen enough jewelry commercials that I had to consider going to Jared and trying to pick up one of those Pandora “red hot love beads” but the colors weren’t anything near Sedona Red so I had to pass.

No, I needed to stick with something more traditional, flowers and candy. Not just any flowers and candy though. I decided I would get a dozen, no make that two dozen roses and a box of chocolates like Forrest Gump had at that bus stop (see not every movie I watch has baseball in it although it would have been better if Forrest would have been an outfielder than a football player or go to China to play in the World Baseball Classic instead of playing ping pong).

I was now on a quest to find Sedona Red roses. It’s Valentine’s Day. You would think that finding Sedona Red roses would be pretty easy but surprisingly it’s not. I must have gone to 10 floral shops explaining to the cashiers that I needed a dozen roses that matched my sweat stained Diamondbacks away hat and a dozen roses that matched the Sonoran Sand outline of the “D” logo on the front. Seriously you would think I was the first guy to ever ask this the way they stared at me.

When the Diamondbacks changed their color scheme from Purple, Teal, and Copper they said it was because the colors were too hard to match on television. I can honestly say that Sedona Red is not that much more common at least in the floral industry. In the end I bought two bouquets of flowers that if you turn the lights off and squint kind of look like Sonoran Sand and Sedona Red. Hopefully my wife won’t notice they aren’t an exact match.

I added a box of chocolates that have a Sedona Red wrapper (again if you turn off the lights and squint the colors match). All I needed was a card and I had the second most perfect Valentine’s Day gift a husband could give his wife (I still say the matching WBC Team USA personalized jerseys would have been the perfect gift). Looking down the card aisle I was obviously not the only husband that thought today was Spring Training position players report day. That place was packed.

I surveyed the rack of picked over cards and did not find even one that had a baseball on the front or even a Diamondbacks logo on the envelope. I made a mental note to send a letter to Major League Baseball merchandising to suggest they may have missed an opportunity. I ended up with a Sedona Red card with a rose on it. No, not a Pete Rose, I wasn’t that stupid. Besides, I think Pete Rose is ineligible to be featured on a Valentine’s Card as a result of him betting on baseball.

I didn’t really read the verse; I was kind of in a hurry. I just checked to make sure the writing was in English (learned my lesson after last year’s card was in Spanish and neither one of us speak that language). I grabbed a pen and wrote the most romantic thing I could think of, “I would gladly share my season tickets with you for any game including the World Series. Love, your husband – Number nine on your program number one in your heart.” Wow, it almost made me cry. Yeah I am pretty sure I aced this holiday thing.

One of the strong themes in all of these awards is the connection the Diamondbacks have with the community. While the Arizona Diamondbacks Foundation is involved in a lot of activities giving back to the area; the caring attitude is not confined to just one group.

During the last home stand at Chase Field I happened to run across a rather unassuming table set up on the main concourse across from Guest Relations. On the table were what looked like baseball home plates that were painted or decorated. Sitting at the table was someone who was explaining to anyone who would stop what the plates meant.

I have to admit, I only took a cursory glance at the table and never even bothered to try and find out what it might be about. Instead I was rushing into or out of the stadium with almost tunnel vision as I tried to grasp what changes the Arizona Diamondbacks might make on the field and if they would be buyers or sellers at the approaching trade deadline. I was in my own little baseball universe and nothing was going to penetrate.

That all changed with a phone call I received. Cory Parsons from the Arizona Diamondbacks called to see how I was doing and wanted my opinion on something he was involved with. As anyone knows, I am more than happy to give my opinion on something in most cases whether I am asked or not.

Cory wanted me to look at a web site he was involved with through the D-Backs Give Back League. The Give Back League is a program instituted by the Arizona Diamondbacks where employees are allowed to contribute in some way to the community.

Cory and his team had developed something called the Home Plate Project. This is a group that is working to help several local charities. For 2012 the Home Plate Project will benefit the Ozanam Manor which attempts to provide transitional housing for people trying to get back on their feet.

Ozanam Manor specializes in helping people over the age of 50 who are homeless, are dealing with a handicap due to illness or disease, or other life events to provide them with a way to try and regain some of their pride. The organization is especially mindful of the struggles of U.S. Veterans who have fallen on hard times.

The Home Plate Project is attempting to raise money that can be donated to Ozanam Manor to help renovate their building, add much needed storage, or provide help with essentials such as providing toiletry items to people in need. They are raising money through an auction that began July 20th and will run through August 31st.

The project has taken several baseball home plates and had them decorated by artists, celebrities, and sports figures. Just looking through the plates you can quickly see the love and care that was put into decorating. It’s not just the artwork though it is the messages that these plates represent.

There are plates featuring Jerry Colangelo, Phil Mickelson, Darius Rucker of Hootie and the Blowfish fame, Harlem Globetrotters, and a plate from Diamondbacks CEO Derrick Hall’s family to recognize him as a cancer survivor and perhaps my personal favorite a tribute to Roland Hemond entering the Baseball Hall of Fame.

For the past two days I have been pouring over the plates looking at each one gaining an appreciation for the artists and the people who have sacrificed their time to help those in need. I’ve picked several I would love and have bid on a couple (I’m not saying which ones).

I regret now not stopping at that small table during the last home stand and hearing about this great project for a worthy cause. Having Cory tell me about this opened my eyes that sometimes there are things outside of baseball that should be the focus of our time and energy.

Hopefully through this blog post and a few tweets more people will become aware of the Home Plate Project and the great things they are trying to accomplish.