A Good Day at the Office Usually Defeats A Bad Day at the Ballpark: A Contrarian View

The hot dog landed with a Technicolor splat on the step just to the right of my seat.  It was fully loaded, the mustard and ketchup coating the meat and bun, the onions scattering to the step below.  Whoever dropped it gave no indication of being aware of the loss.  This was the beginning of a bad day at the ballpark. 

Sooner or later, someone’s going to tell you that a bad day at the ballpark beats a good day at the office.   You should conclude from this observation that he probably has a very bad job, or maybe that he has spent too little time in a ballpark to know what he’s talking about.  Or maybe both.  What we know is that he will be male.  I don’t know who said it first, but I know of no female ever having uttered the line.

I didn’t have to miss any time at the office to be there.  It was Sunday, and besides, I’m retired.  Still, I was hoping the Angels would beat the Rays, and that my nephew Mark would be heroic in the victory. 

It was not to be.  The game was a pitchers’ duel between the Angels’ new acquisition, Cy Young winner Zack Greinke, and Jeremy Hellickson, who beat out Mark for the distinction of American League Rookie of the Year.  Both pitched well, but Greinke gave up a couple of runs, while Hellickson allowed none. 

Nothing particularly good happened in the first eight innings.  By the ninth inning, both starters had been relieved, and the Rays still led 2-0.  They sent closer and former Angel Fernando Rodney out in the bottom of the ninth.  The Angels had runners on first and second with one out when Albert Pujols came to the plate with Mark on deck.  Rodney threw three consecutive balls, and the die seemed to be cast.  Pujols would walk, bringing Mark to the plate with the bases loaded.  He could win the game with an extra-base hit. 

Pujols took a called strike.  On the next pitch, he hit into a game-ending double play.  The bad day at the ballpark took two hours and 49 minutes.

I spent most of the last 35 years working in offices.  A good day, as Paul Simon said, was a day without pain.  Occasionally there would be a particularly good day, when a court issued a decision vindicating an important public policy we had defended.  Those were rare but joyous occasions.  Mostly, though, a good day was just a productive day when nothing bad happened, typically when the boss was away.

Does a bad day at the ballpark beat a good day at the office?  Not in my experience.  It’s just that there are a lot more good days at the ballpark than there are at the office.