Pro tip: Always sit at the bar.
Why? You meet the coolest people there. Eat at the bar. Drink there too. If you are nice enough and the perfect time/space continuum exists your bartender could become the catalyst for making quite an epic memory.
Last week, I took my first adventure to Cooperstown, NY, the mythical birthplace of baseball and the home of the Baseball Hall of Fame. My mom and I arrived there just as the All-Star induction weekend and its respective festivities were starting to amp up. We toured every inch of the museum, taking countless pictures knowing that A) I might never get back here and B) I wasn’t sure yet what angle my piece on Cooperstown would take.
Going in I knew that I would probably get emotional at some point. I just didn’t expect for it to happen when it did. As I walked amongst legends all day, it wasn’t until I stood under their newest additions surrounded by history and legend, that my emotions crept up on me. I thought this would just end up being a really cool photo op. When I walked away from where the new inductee plaques would soon stand, I slowly got choked up.
Two Detroit Tigers were enshrined in the Hall of Fame this weekend, and they have un-justifiably waited longer than most. They might be two of the most deserving and they did it in a quiet way. Jack and Tram. Both played double-digit years with the Tigers. Both are still insanely involved in the organization.
“Whether I’m there or not, I’ll always be a Tiger, and I’ll always root for the Tigers.”- Alan Trammell
After a great day of touring the Hall of Fame, I really thought it couldn’t get better. I picked out my sweet new lid at the gift shop, went back to my B&B for some R&R and then headed back into dinner wearing the aforementioned sweet new lid.
My mom and I promptly sat down at the small bar recommended to us by the local shop girl (another pro-tip: take their recommendations too!) That’s where we met Clyde. Upon seeing my Old English D, he proudly proclaimed “I’m a Tigers fan too!” We all chuckled and someone joked, ‘that’s what he says to any pretty girl in a hat.”
Truth is, he actually was. As an older gentleman, he explained that growing up in Vermont the only access he had to watch baseball on TV was the Saturday night games in the ’60’s where the Tigers were often featured. He also mentioned how much he loved Al Kaline, so he and my mom were instantly best friends.
And that’s when the night took an unexpected turn…
When we explained that we were both eating and drinking he moved us to a different corner of the bar, that way we’d have more room. Clyde then proceeded to whisper in my ear that sitting only two stools away from us was the granddaughter of a Tigers legend.
Her name was Cindy Cobb.
I think we both quietly guffawed. The granddaughter of Ty-FREAKING-Cobb was only separated by one person from me. Clyde eventually introduced us to her and a wonderful discussion of all things Tigers and Detroit ensued. She couldn’t have been kinder. She even invited my mom to a party at a local Detroit hotspot that she always throws every year when she’s in town.