A lot can happen in 48 hours. In 48 hours you can meet the love of your life. In 48 hours you could buy the right lotto tickets. In 48 hours you could save someone's life or even your own. Life has this funny way of making sure time has this importance to it.
Two summers ago, I was on my first ever baseball road trip visiting every ball park I could. I remember sitting in a dingy hotel room in Oakland talking to my mom about how bad my friends farts were on the drive up there and just telling her how much fun I was having. 48 hours later, I would be in a hotel room in Seattle and have the following conversation take place with my mom.
"Hey mom. So Jody is still farting"
"(Laughs) Well I'm sure you're no better. How are you doing son?"
"Great. Seattle is beautiful and really glad I got out here."
"I'm happy for you Ricky. I want you to see everything."
"Well I'm doing everything I can! I'm glad I got work off. How's back home?"
"Well that's why I called. I actually went to the doctors today"
"Should have kept eating apples."
"(Laughs) well I don't think apples would help. Ricky, I just want you to know that they found some lumps in my breast."
"Yea I'm here. Like lady lumps? The song?" I replied back as I tried to keep my cool
"(Laughs) Stop it. Ricky, they diagnosed me. I have breast cancer. I'm sorry I have to tell you over the phone and I'm trying not to ruin your trip but I just want you to know before you find out from someone else"
48 hours ago, my mom had a perfect bill of health. She was happy, lively, and in complete bliss about life. 48 hours later, she would be apologizing to me about her having breast cancer. Fast forward another 48 hours, I would be back home with my mom and take six months off to take care of her every day through appointments, surgeries, and radiation treatments. My mom, like the insanely strong woman she is, would persevere through it all and is now in the best state of mind and health I have ever seen.
Last week, Major League Baseball flew the final 30 Cave Dwelling applicants to Arizona where we would compete in pitches, interviews, trivia, and well some pitchy karaoke. For 48 hours, there's that number yet again, we would bond and laugh together while at the same time trying to compete for a spot to live the dream job in New York.
During those 48 hours, I would have the greatest time of my life. Not only did Major League Baseball treat us like royalty, but I got to hang out with some of the most entertaining, knowledgable, and down to earth baseball fans in this country. Oh, I guess Canada too. Dave Barclay's 4 hour fashionably late arrival to Chase Field was one for the ages. I probably should've asked him if Canadians are always late during an impromptu Q&A about life in Canada.
In between pulling our hairs before 60 sec. pitches in front of a slew of MLB Execs and interviews with MLB Players, I would go on to have probably the most ridiculous conversations with every finalist and member of the MLB staff. We would joke about how bad we were doing or showcase our best Eddie "Showtime" Mata impersonation. Some of us would die from laughter after listening to Jay Touey and Benjamin Christensen have a complete conversation as Harry Carrey. Others would go on to completely destroy Taylor Swift songs in front of MLB Head Honcho Tim Brossen and Paul DiMeo of Extreme Home Makeover fame during karaoke. Cough Travis Miller cough.
Without a doubt, every one of us took advantage of those 48 hours. Except Brian Pasnik when he overslept on Day 2 while we headed out to the various Spring Training facilities (sorry to put you on blast but that was hilarious!). Then again, he took advantage of sleep so that's good. Not a single person moped around or thought they were out of the "competition". A-games were brought. Media packets were handed out (smooth move Matt James and Lindsay Guentzel). Pranks were dished (Shaun Kippens FTW) Jokes were vomited out. RICKY SANDWICHES WERE EATEN.
48 hours after arriving in Arizona, tears were shed. Long hugs and farewells were given out. Videos were made to commemorate the competition, no, reunion we were wrapping up. I don't know why I did it, but I said a few words to the 29 before almost bailing like a baby at the end of Wednesday night. What I said to them will stay forever with us and if any of you are reading this, my offer will always stand.
In 48 hours, our lives might change. In 48 hours, a phone call has the potential to put us on top of the world or the lowliest of lows. In 48 hours, 6-8 of us might be heading to New York to embark on an adventure filled with baseball bliss and surreal situations. Regardless of what happens, I know in 48 hours all 30 Fan Cave finalists will always remember the time we had in Arizona. I guess the real question is...how are you going to take advantage of the next 48 hours?