Editor note: This column is from the Crumbs of Candor 2022 archives.

Daddy pitched balls with me a few times when I was little. I loved it when he called me the names of the most famous Detroit Tigers of the day, like Charlie Maxwell or Harvey Kuenn.

Living near the then Briggs Stadium, home of the Tigers, we all became huge fans. Still, loving all things baseball, one of my last trips to Michigan led to a game at the Mudhens Stadium in nearby Toledo, Ohio. It was very much fun.

After reminiscing the fun of our last game together with my siblings, someone rapidly responded with, “Oh, I almost forgot! Adam can get us free tickets to a Tigers game, with free everything!”

Despite having never met Adam, my mouth was agape. “Really?” Enquiring minds wanted to know.

A few texts were exchanged, then we decided that Wednesday, July 6, worked for everyone. Adam even took most of the day off.

Well, nothing went as planned. Game time was 1:10 p.m. We were asked to arrive about two hours prior. All families have that one person that everyone else always ends up waiting on. Lucky us! We finally arrived in Wixom to follow Adam from his day job to Commerica Park in downtown Motown.

Half an hour later, we got back on route. I had taken my cane but not a pain pill because of repeated assurances that we would not be walking for more than a few blocks, including inside the stadium. It turned out we were at the wrong parking garage, and it was a long walk: a very long one. We got dropped off at the curb by the entrance. Quickly, thanks to my metal knees, I learned a great deal about their security system.

One bag got a bold Medical Bag symbol on it because there was an incontinence pad inside! I was the only one to get a pat down, though, thanks to my titanium knees. We waited inside the stadium until 1:30 p.m. when the rest of our group finally met up with us.

My back was already hurting from the inoperable herniated disks from a fall a few years ago. We were all hungry and anxious because we were missing the game, but then it was discovered that our seats and the special Champions Club were way, way further away than we had been told.

Miserably but patiently, the group waited while frequent breaks to rest my spine were essential for me to ambulate. It was stop and go for what felt like an eternity. At one point, I tried to shoo them ahead, but they stuck by me. Adam, significant other of my great niece, Rochelle, was an absolute saint about it all.

Finally, the entrance doors to our suite were in view. Special armbands were placed on each of us and we entered. Wow! It was quite impressive. The buffet was spread out over a very extensive area, and of course the ladies room was at the farthest point from the entrance possible. But that’s another story.

We were shown the two world series winner’s trophies on display for 1968 and 1984, which was well set in my memory along with much more memorabilia. It would have been very impressive had this one not been in such dire pain. Finally managing to drag my carcass onto a stool with a view of the field, I simply sighed with relief from the unrelenting pain. Really, I did try to smile, but a brief recovery was a priority.

Content simply to sit there, my thoughts were interrupted by a server who wanted to get me anything. Finally, I nodded at a suggestion and she delivered it to me. My whistle was extremely dry. It was well past time to eat after taking insulin, so managing to fill a small plate from the delectable selection with some veggies, fruits, and goat cheese on seeded crackers, I dove right in.

Beginning to refresh, my appetite returned. Having lost track of my companions, they were finally spotted and accounted for as we all returned to the constantly evolving buffet as they changed out the delectable dishes and added others.

Eventually I was able to join them on the padded seats in the covered outdoor area and actually enjoyed the game. The Tigers, having a bad season, won perhaps just for me — or was I their good luck charm?

After the game, it was a longer way to the exit it seemed, but after walking three blocks to a specific intersection, we were picked up and finally headed home.

Following a difficult five-day recovery, my body is rested up enough to begin my next adventure — but rest assured there will not be much walking in the plans.