The Man In Seat 16

The ball streaked high into the night sky through the sultry air over Houston, Texas. Like a rocket soaring toward some distant planet, it made its way higher and higher, up and up, until it appeared as a mere speck in the heavens, like a star shining alone, and the audience gazed up in amazement and wonder. It hung for a moment as though suspended in deep space before hurtling back toward earth, toward its intended target – Section 224, Row 1, Seat 16.

The crowd oohed and aahed as the sphere accelerated rapidly, charging back through the earth’s atmosphere, sparks flying behind it comet-like, its tiny little heat-resistant tiles glowing in the dark. Its ominous re-entry kindled fear in the people below and some ran for the exits while others stood in dazed disbelief, like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

But the Man in Seat 16 stood steady, solitary, staring intently and without fear at the approaching Death Star. He stood behind the thigh-high rail and quickly assessed the situation. On one side of the rail was safety and Life – on the other, peril and Death. He stretched his body across the span, sacrificing Life and Limb, merely for his Love of the Game. Men, women and children watched first the ball and then the Man, back and forth, back and forth, like a vertical tennis match, with their futures hanging in the balance. They gasped and held their collective breath in the final moment.

The Man in Seat 16 reached out with his well-oiled, shiny black leather, Ken Griffey, Jr. model glove, and time stood still. Everything moved as though in slow motion to him. There was no crowd, no sound, no movement – just him and the ball. His concentration was extreme, his confidence high. In the nanosecond before splashdown, everything returned to normal and It happened. The satisfying sound of leather on leather – PLAAP – reverberated throughout the stadium. There was just a moment of stillness and utter quiet and then the crowd erupted in roars of delight and relief. Smiles abounded, high-fives were shared, and tears were shed. Those who had sought shelter returned sheepishly to their seats and were welcomed as everyone rejoiced together.

As the Man in Seat 16 left the stadium, little boys looked up at him in wide-eyed idol-worship, men watched in envy, and women brushed up against him, furtively leaving little strips of paper and ticket stubs in his belt bearing phone numbers and promises. The Catch would be replayed over and over on ESPN highlight reels and people would discuss The Catch until the end of time. Literally millions of individuals would insist, “I was there!”

Reporters sought him out, and sports and Hollywood agents searched high and low, but no one knew his name. They didn’t know where he came from or where he went. He appeared from nowhere like a shadow, a specter, and disappeared in the same way – having no beginning and no end. The Catch became a watershed moment in History. There had never been one like it. There would not be another. The elusive figure who inspired the World would be known henceforth only as…

… The Man in Seat 16.