“You have the rest of you life to work.”
I have heard this phrase many times from my father throughout my adolescent teenage years. I’d always want to work; from 13 on, it was always make a buck, make a buck.
I never had a full-time job and did enjoy myself along the way, always keeping my father's advice in my head. Now, as my junior year at Quinnipiac University is coming to an end and graduation is right around the corner, that advice has never been more prevalent to me.
Throughout my life, well since 1996 anyway, some combination of my family has always gone to Opening Day at Yankee Stadium (the only exception came in 2007, when my brother was making his confirmation the same day). This year, with the economy in shambles, only my mother and her boyfriend were going to go.
Then it happened.
I received a phone call. It was my brother, who was excited and speaking too quickly to understand. I was able to comprehend something about Opening Day tickets and asked him how much.
“$525.”
“Each?!?!”
“No, Mom and Dad are paying $100 each.”
“So, they are $325 each?”
“No, total.”
“Oh, (quick math in my head, a little more than $150 too much, but it is Opening Day at the New Yankee Stadium). Let’s do it."
“Okay, thanks.” (click).
Without knowing when Opening Day is, I just said yes. I guarantee it was going to be a stupid answer; no way I am getting out of this free and easy.
Opening Day at the stadium is April 16, a Thursday of course...the one day I have a once-a-week class (which I already missed twice for other legitimate reasons).
But who knows, the professor is a nice guy and a Yankee fan, maybe I've got a shot. And my other Thursday class is Sports Reporting twice a week...the professor will definitely understand and let me out no problem.
The next Thursday comes and my once-a-week class cancels for the 16th. My heart hopped out of my chest, I was so excited I immediately called my brother and told him I was home free.





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