makes you want to be a diamondback fan...
D-Backs' ticket program a breath of fresh air
Jan. 11, 2008
By Scott Miller
CBSSports.com Senior Writer
(http://www.sportsline.com/mlb/story/10571485)
Know the most inconvenient part about sports these days? The need for a hot shower when you're through for the evening. And I'm not talking about an epic one-on-one hoops run with your buddy, either.
No, between the steroids and the police blotter, a guy or gal too often feels like scrounging for a bar of Irish Spring simply from watching or listening.
Then along comes this idea from the Arizona Diamondbacks, an idea so brilliant, so innovative ... well, it makes you wonder why nobody thought of it 30 years ago.
See, what the Diamondbacks did last month in preparation for the 2008 season is they started a scholarship program.
For fans.
Looking for a way to say thanks for a terrific year at the turnstiles, the Diamondbacks had handed out $150 food vouchers to season-ticket holders for games last September when, one night in the stands, a lady went all gushy on club president Derrick Hall.
"She had tears in her eyes," Hall said. "She said, 'You don't know what this means to me and my son. My husband left me, he took our season tickets, the car, the house, everything.'"
A sympathetic friend had purchased tickets for the woman, but the season was about finished and given the upheaval at home, there wasn't going to be much baseball in her future. The food vouchers, the woman said, had helped her and her son get through.
That's when Hall had his It's a Wonderful Life moment. He told the woman right then that the club was going to create a program in her honor.
And this is what he and the Diamondbacks came up with: They put the word out to season-ticket holders and other fans: Life thrown you a curveball? Fate tightening the screws? Not enough breaks to shake loose money for something as frivolous as baseball games?
Put it into words and fill out an application by Dec. 1.
The Diamondbacks heard from about 20 folks.
"Some were extremely legitimate," Hall said. "Some were not nearly as legitimate."
The club's President's Council -- six top executives and employees of the month for the current calendar year -- reviewed the applications. They compared notes. They checked references. They felt tugs on their hearts.
And do you know what?
The Diamondbacks awarded seven of these applicants full season tickets for 2008 -- all 81 home games plus two preseason exhibitions, parking passes, even food vouchers to those who, as Hall says, "we felt needed an extra lift." Not nosebleed seats, either. These down-on-their-financial-luck recipients will be watching games in '08 from Chase Field's lower level.
One package went to a family of seven. The parents had written, explained their financial hardship and asked for two season tickets for rotating among the kids. They got seven full season tickets, one for everybody.
One went to one of the victims of Arizona's so-called Serial Shooter in 2006. The man's brother and cousin made the request. The club awarded season tickets to all three.
One went to a grandmother. She had raised two grandkids by herself, doing what many other red-blooded Americans do when the school days got tough and the numbers weren't adding up: She used baseball to teach them math.
A neighbor wrote the Diamondbacks to nominate her for a season-ticket package; the Diamondbacks responded with three season tickets. So now the lady can take her two grandkids -- just about grown now -- and perhaps deliver one more math lesson: Nine plus nine divided by 6-4-3 = ♥.
"They're the greatest baseball organization out there, as far as I'm concerned," said Mary Lou Tichenor, 65. "We can't believe they're doing this."
Yep, Mary Lou and her husband of 17 years, Carl, also received a season-ticket "scholarship" for '08.
The Tichenors had been charter season-ticket holders since the Diamondbacks were ushered into the majors in 1998. They both attended games for years, though eventually Carl's job working communications for a building technology company put him on the road too much of the time and Mary Lou would attend the games by herself. Carl estimates that his bride has missed fewer than two dozen home games since '98.
About five years ago, Mary Lou was stricken with a debilitating form of muscular dystrophy, and her muscles are getting more and more cranky. Saddest thing is, those muscles are doing pretty well when measured against the grouchiness of the bills that are coming due. She went from a wheelchair to a hydraulic wheelchair, and when that pooped out, the Tichenors had to purchase another one.
She's got Medicare, but Carl, 57, was laid off awhile back and you know the state of health care in this country. Incredibly expensive prescriptions, another hydraulic lift wheelchair, practically more doctors than blouses -- let's see, there's the neurologist, the heart doctor, on and on it goes because Myotonic Dystrophy Type 2 is a multi-systemic disease -- and, well, you know what was on deck to be whacked out of the budget.
Baseball tickets.
Carl read about this scholarship program and, though he hated like heck to sing a woe-is-me tune and his ego took a beating with each word, he wrote a heartfelt letter of application.
"I thought Mary Lou's joy at possibly benefiting from this would far supersede anything to do with my pride," Carl said. "I wasn't overly comfortable doing this, but I also expressed to the Diamondbacks that I was sure they would give it to the right people."
Unbeknownst to Carl, Mary Lou's sister, Bette Hilliard, also wrote the Diamondbacks from her home in Ohio.
Mary Lou was aware of Carl's letter, but the girl who fell in love with baseball on the banks of Lake Erie when her father took her to Cleveland Municipal Stadium for the 1948 World Series -- and to many Indians games thereafter -- had no idea that her sister had sprung into action as well.
What she did know was that the Diamondbacks were supposed to notify the scholarship winners by Dec. 15 because, well, she's Mary Lou.
"Mary Lou reads every word of the Diamondbacks Insider (newsletter)," Carl said. "She knows every deadline."
When Hall phoned Carl to notify him that the club was going to award a pair of season tickets to him and his wife, they discussed holding the surprise until Christmas.
"The cutoff for the applications was Dec. 1 because we wanted to make sure we had them in time for the holidays," said Hall, the best thing to hit the desert since Santa Claus.
With Mary Lou well aware of that Dec. 15 date, Carl, after learning of his good fortune, did one whale of a job keeping the surprise a secret.
Why, he held it all the way until ... Dec. 17, his wife's birthday.
"Well, she fortunately was sitting down," Carl said. "Of course, she's sitting in her wheelchair most of the time now. And as I told her, she put her hand over her wide-open mouth in disbelief. And then tears started coming down her cheeks.
"As they are right now."
"I'm an emotional person," Mary Lou interrupted into the speaker phone. "And this. ..."
This?
This, simply, is why sports matters. The point of it all isn't human growth hormone and gaudy sack dances. It isn't million-dollar contracts and media folks competing to see who can scream the loudest.
At its best, sports is about working side-by-side and stitching together a community. First within the framework of a team and, from there, extending outward into the neighborhood.
"It was fun going through the applications, knowing we were in a position to impact lives positively," Hall said. "But the most fun was making those calls. There was shock, tears, excitement ... we established relationships that will last a lifetime.
"They're part of the family."
Several professional organizations already have phoned Phoenix this winter, from the Houston Astros to the NFL's Miami Dolphins, inquiring how the season-ticket scholarship program works and seeking tips about maybe even starting their own.
The bet here is they won't be the last.
Jan. 11, 2008
By Scott Miller
CBSSports.com Senior Writer
(http://www.sportsline.com/mlb/story/10571485)
Know the most inconvenient part about sports these days? The need for a hot shower when you're through for the evening. And I'm not talking about an epic one-on-one hoops run with your buddy, either.
No, between the steroids and the police blotter, a guy or gal too often feels like scrounging for a bar of Irish Spring simply from watching or listening.
Then along comes this idea from the Arizona Diamondbacks, an idea so brilliant, so innovative ... well, it makes you wonder why nobody thought of it 30 years ago.
See, what the Diamondbacks did last month in preparation for the 2008 season is they started a scholarship program.
For fans.
Looking for a way to say thanks for a terrific year at the turnstiles, the Diamondbacks had handed out $150 food vouchers to season-ticket holders for games last September when, one night in the stands, a lady went all gushy on club president Derrick Hall.
"She had tears in her eyes," Hall said. "She said, 'You don't know what this means to me and my son. My husband left me, he took our season tickets, the car, the house, everything.'"
A sympathetic friend had purchased tickets for the woman, but the season was about finished and given the upheaval at home, there wasn't going to be much baseball in her future. The food vouchers, the woman said, had helped her and her son get through.
That's when Hall had his It's a Wonderful Life moment. He told the woman right then that the club was going to create a program in her honor.
And this is what he and the Diamondbacks came up with: They put the word out to season-ticket holders and other fans: Life thrown you a curveball? Fate tightening the screws? Not enough breaks to shake loose money for something as frivolous as baseball games?
Put it into words and fill out an application by Dec. 1.
The Diamondbacks heard from about 20 folks.
"Some were extremely legitimate," Hall said. "Some were not nearly as legitimate."
The club's President's Council -- six top executives and employees of the month for the current calendar year -- reviewed the applications. They compared notes. They checked references. They felt tugs on their hearts.
And do you know what?
The Diamondbacks awarded seven of these applicants full season tickets for 2008 -- all 81 home games plus two preseason exhibitions, parking passes, even food vouchers to those who, as Hall says, "we felt needed an extra lift." Not nosebleed seats, either. These down-on-their-financial-luck recipients will be watching games in '08 from Chase Field's lower level.
One package went to a family of seven. The parents had written, explained their financial hardship and asked for two season tickets for rotating among the kids. They got seven full season tickets, one for everybody.
One went to one of the victims of Arizona's so-called Serial Shooter in 2006. The man's brother and cousin made the request. The club awarded season tickets to all three.
One went to a grandmother. She had raised two grandkids by herself, doing what many other red-blooded Americans do when the school days got tough and the numbers weren't adding up: She used baseball to teach them math.
A neighbor wrote the Diamondbacks to nominate her for a season-ticket package; the Diamondbacks responded with three season tickets. So now the lady can take her two grandkids -- just about grown now -- and perhaps deliver one more math lesson: Nine plus nine divided by 6-4-3 = ♥.
"They're the greatest baseball organization out there, as far as I'm concerned," said Mary Lou Tichenor, 65. "We can't believe they're doing this."
Yep, Mary Lou and her husband of 17 years, Carl, also received a season-ticket "scholarship" for '08.
The Tichenors had been charter season-ticket holders since the Diamondbacks were ushered into the majors in 1998. They both attended games for years, though eventually Carl's job working communications for a building technology company put him on the road too much of the time and Mary Lou would attend the games by herself. Carl estimates that his bride has missed fewer than two dozen home games since '98.
About five years ago, Mary Lou was stricken with a debilitating form of muscular dystrophy, and her muscles are getting more and more cranky. Saddest thing is, those muscles are doing pretty well when measured against the grouchiness of the bills that are coming due. She went from a wheelchair to a hydraulic wheelchair, and when that pooped out, the Tichenors had to purchase another one.
She's got Medicare, but Carl, 57, was laid off awhile back and you know the state of health care in this country. Incredibly expensive prescriptions, another hydraulic lift wheelchair, practically more doctors than blouses -- let's see, there's the neurologist, the heart doctor, on and on it goes because Myotonic Dystrophy Type 2 is a multi-systemic disease -- and, well, you know what was on deck to be whacked out of the budget.
Baseball tickets.
Carl read about this scholarship program and, though he hated like heck to sing a woe-is-me tune and his ego took a beating with each word, he wrote a heartfelt letter of application.
"I thought Mary Lou's joy at possibly benefiting from this would far supersede anything to do with my pride," Carl said. "I wasn't overly comfortable doing this, but I also expressed to the Diamondbacks that I was sure they would give it to the right people."
Unbeknownst to Carl, Mary Lou's sister, Bette Hilliard, also wrote the Diamondbacks from her home in Ohio.
Mary Lou was aware of Carl's letter, but the girl who fell in love with baseball on the banks of Lake Erie when her father took her to Cleveland Municipal Stadium for the 1948 World Series -- and to many Indians games thereafter -- had no idea that her sister had sprung into action as well.
What she did know was that the Diamondbacks were supposed to notify the scholarship winners by Dec. 15 because, well, she's Mary Lou.
"Mary Lou reads every word of the Diamondbacks Insider (newsletter)," Carl said. "She knows every deadline."
When Hall phoned Carl to notify him that the club was going to award a pair of season tickets to him and his wife, they discussed holding the surprise until Christmas.
"The cutoff for the applications was Dec. 1 because we wanted to make sure we had them in time for the holidays," said Hall, the best thing to hit the desert since Santa Claus.
With Mary Lou well aware of that Dec. 15 date, Carl, after learning of his good fortune, did one whale of a job keeping the surprise a secret.
Why, he held it all the way until ... Dec. 17, his wife's birthday.
"Well, she fortunately was sitting down," Carl said. "Of course, she's sitting in her wheelchair most of the time now. And as I told her, she put her hand over her wide-open mouth in disbelief. And then tears started coming down her cheeks.
"As they are right now."
"I'm an emotional person," Mary Lou interrupted into the speaker phone. "And this. ..."
This?
This, simply, is why sports matters. The point of it all isn't human growth hormone and gaudy sack dances. It isn't million-dollar contracts and media folks competing to see who can scream the loudest.
At its best, sports is about working side-by-side and stitching together a community. First within the framework of a team and, from there, extending outward into the neighborhood.
"It was fun going through the applications, knowing we were in a position to impact lives positively," Hall said. "But the most fun was making those calls. There was shock, tears, excitement ... we established relationships that will last a lifetime.
"They're part of the family."
Several professional organizations already have phoned Phoenix this winter, from the Houston Astros to the NFL's Miami Dolphins, inquiring how the season-ticket scholarship program works and seeking tips about maybe even starting their own.
The bet here is they won't be the last.