Every ticket stub tells a story, and we’ve collected some of the best (part 2) (2024)

The days of tickets being torn when you enter a sports venue are behind us. For many teams, the only way you can enter is if your ticket is stored on your smartphone.

And there’s plenty of good in that: You’re less likely to lose your tickets. They can easily be shared. It’s harder for scammers to sell counterfeits. Still, there was something that many of us liked about taking home a ticket stub.

It was a memento you could store in your wallet or at home in your desk and save as a reminder of good times and good games.

Last month, I shared a ticket stub from Red Sox Opening Day in 1975 on Twitter. I asked if anyone else had ticket stub stories to share. I was overwhelmed with responses.

This is my ticket stub from Opening Day 1975, Red Sox vs Brewers. Henry Aaron’s first game in the AL, Tony Conigliaro’s second comeback. I was 18. Tweet me a ticket stub from a memorable game you attended from back in the day. pic.twitter.com/GvJz466Igu

— Steve Buckley (@BuckinBoston) May 8, 2020

So I decided to share some of those stories. Here, then, is part 2 of our series.

PART 1: More of our ticket stubs stories

Each submission includes the author’s current age and place of residence. Thanks to all who contributed. It was a joy to communicate with every one of you.

Mariners vs. Red Sox, 1986

The game: April 29, 1986, Fenway Park. Roger Clemens’ first 20-strikeout game

That’s the ticket: Left Field Box 63, Row C, Seat 1. ($11)

The ticket holder: Jay Stohl, 48, Watertown

I was 14 years old and in the eighth grade when a classmate offered a pair of “great seats” for a whopping $11 each to a random Tuesday night game in late April. I ponied up the money and snuck away from class to call my uncle (I had no dad) on a payphone to see if he’d like to go.

My uncle Ron was a huge Boston sports fan who had attended Ted Williams’ final game, but I had to twist his arm a bit to drive me in, since the Celtics were playing the Atlanta Hawks in the playoffs that night. Besides, he didn’t want to venture out on a cold April night to see a mediocre team. The fact that Clemens was pitching turned out to be the deciding factor.

The seats were literally on the third-base dugout — like, our drinks were on the dugout roof itself. Best seats I ever had. And they were $11!

As cliché as it sounds, you could tell Clemens was “on” that night as you could hear the “ssssssss……pop!” of his fastballs cutting through the night air during warm-ups and hitting the catcher’s mitt. And my uncle turned to me and said, “Hold onto your ticket stub. We might see something special tonight.” As Hollywood BS as that line sounds, he 100 percent said it.

The most baseball-worthy memory was just the bewildered and discouraged faces of the Mariners as they walked back to the dugout, sort of smirking and chuckling at how they had been dominated during their plate appearances against Clemens. And there was a constant stream of them doing it.

I remember the snickers and the whispers in the crowd around us about how the “fix was in” when, late in the game, Don Baylor “accidentally” dropped a pop up just outside of first base, which allowed one more out to be registered as a K and helped Clemens get to 20.

The game was scoreless after six innings, as Mike Moore of the Mariners was also pitching a great game. When Gorman Thomas homered in the top of the seventh to give Seattle a 1-0 lead, we were thinking that Clemens might lose the game but still set the strikeout record, which would have been strange.

Dwight Evans hit a three-run homer off Moore in the bottom of the seventh, and then Moore was taken out in the eighth. The stress kind of dropped and we politely applauded as Moore made his way back to the bench. I looked up at the video board in center field and we could see ourselves applauding. That was really cool.

I remember thinking that Sister Josepha, my catholic nun English teacher at Rosary Academy in Watertown, was going to kill me because I was supposed to be finishing “To Kill a Mockingbird” that night. And that clearly wasn’t going to happen. I had brought my copy of the book with me, figuring I would read it while the Mariners were at-bat … well, that didn’t happen with the way Clemens was pitching.

I was so scared the next day when I saw Sister Josepha. But when I told her I was at Clemens’ game she let me slide. And I did finish and still love “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Cardinals vs. Red Sox, 2013

The game: Oct. 30, 2013, Fenway Park. World Series Game 6

That’s the ticket: Left field, Section 18, Row B, Seat 15. ($100)

The ticket holder: Josh Dellheim, 34, Saugus

During Game 2 of the World Series, my best friend and I walked up and down Brookline Avenue and Lansdowne Street in search of tickets. Standing-room tickets offered from Boston’s independent distributors began at $600, so we found ourselves at the Lansdowne Pub watching the Sox fall 4-2.

Six days later, we were ready this time to buy tickets for the Game 6 clincher. But then I received a call at work that changed everything. It was my brother-in-law, and he had an extra ticket after his father declined to go. The price: a few of Fenway’s coldest brews.

We were in the second row of the pavilion-level seats, and I can remember the game clearly even if at the time things were fuzzy. Again, brews.

Shane Victorino’s double off the monster to take the lead … Koji Uehara with the split-finger away, and then the fist up in the sky to celebrate. And then beards and goggles. The cheering was deafening and non-stop, and our section was noticeably shaking from the celebration.

Given everything from 2013 (when the Boston Marathon was bombed), I can look at that ticket stub and remember how we were with Boston, celebrating in joy, that one night in October.

Yankees vs. Red Sox, 1979

The game: Sept. 12, 1979, Fenway Park. Carl Yastrzemski’s 3,000th career hit

That’s the ticket:Section 8, Box 94, Row WW, Seat 18. ($5.75)

The ticket holder: Michael Maloney, 54, Wakefield.

My father, who was the Wakefield recreation director, was given four tickets to a Red Sox game from a sporting goods friend who couldn’t use them. I was 13 years old and a devout Red Sox fan. I knew every stat of every Sox player on the roster, from Jack Brohamer to Win Remmerswaal. So I knew Yastrzemski was close to that magic number of 3,000 hits.

And Yaz was my favorite player.

It was a cool, late summer night. This was the first time my father, mother, sister and I attended a game as a family, and it was also the last time. The Sox got to Catfish Hunter early, and Yankees manager Billy Martin brought in Jim Beattie, the pride of South Portland, Maine, to mop up. The excitement ramped up in the eighth inning. Yaz was due up. I turned to my father and said, “It’s the eighth inning, we’re in Section 8, the Sox have eight runs, and No. 8 is up. He’s gonna do it now.” And Yaz didn’t disappoint, smacking a ground ball past the outstretched glove of second baseman Willie Randolph.

I put my ticket stub in my wallet that night and kept it there for years. I would pull it out now and then to show friends and strangers that I was there for Yaz’s 3,000th. That ticket stub motivated me to collect my son’s ticket stub from his first Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins and Patriots games. I framed them for him to hang in his college apartment as a way to always remember what the Yaz stub started.

Cardinals vs. Red Sox, 2004

The game: Oct. 23, 2004, Fenway Park. World Series Game 1

That’s the ticket:Section 15, Row 18, Seat 8. ($145)

The ticket holder: Jason Duponte, 42, Natick

I’ve been fortunate to have been to many great Red Sox postseason games. Getting tickets back in 2004 was much harder than it is today. Someone had given me a more direct Red Sox phone number for tickets and it usually came through for all of the biggest games. I was lucky enough to attend each home game of the 2004 ALCS against the Yankees.

But the Red Sox didn’t have any public sales via phone or website for the World Series, and I had planned on watching Game 1 at home. As the day progressed, my parents called me to break some news. My father was offered a ticket to Game 1 from a distant relative in town from California.

My father declined so that I could attend the game instead. I went with relatives I hadn’t seen since I was 6 years old.

The Red Sox made the day even more special, winning that game and eventually the World Series. I later got the ticket signed by Jason Varitek and it hangs now in the man cave.

Blue Jays vs. Red Sox, 1986

The game: Sept. 28, 1986, Fenway Park. Red Sox clinch AL East

That’s the ticket: Roof Box 21, Row B, Seat 4. ($10)

The ticket holder: Jon Strauss, 44, North Andover

The 1986 Red Sox were special for so many reasons, but on a personal level, it served as the foundation for my lifelong love of the team.

It was only one year earlier, in 1985, that my father took me to my first Red Sox game – Sunday, April 28 versus Kansas City. Oil Can Boyd on the mound. We sat on the third-base side and watched as the Sox lost 5-2. I distinctly remember Jim Rice getting thrown out at the plate trying to tie up the game in the eighth inning. The end of the eighth was also the end of the game for me. My father had a meeting scheduled that evening, so we were forced to leave the game before it finished. I was disappointed, not just because the Sox lost, but because I didn’t get to see the entire game.

Fast-forward to the next year, and my father had arranged with some family friends to buy four tickets to a bunch of games. I’m not sure if it was some sort of ticket package, but I remember freezing my butt off at the first game we sat in those right-field-roof box seats. It just so happened that our last set of tickets was to this late-season matchup versus Toronto. Boyd on the mound again. And wouldn’t you know it – the Sox had a chance to clinch the AL East for the first time since 1975.

I was just shy of 11 years old and I could barely contain my excitement. I don’t remember too many details other than Oil Can being dominant. But I remember The Can pitching in the top of the ninth with two outs. Kelly Gruber weakly popped out to Bill Buckner. I remember Billy Bucks catching the ball and hopping up and down. In retrospect, I always wondered if he did damage to his poor ankles in that celebration. I remember Oil Can jumping up into players’ arms. I think I remember Roger Clemens riding on the back of a police horse. And I remember a fan who tried to scale the Pesky Pole in the celebrations. It was pandemonium. And it all left an indelible memory for life.

Orioles vs. Red Sox, 2007

The game: Sept. 1, 2007, Fenway Park. Clay Buchholz no-hitter

That’s the ticket: Section 25, Box 59, Row C, Seat 4. ($100)

The ticket holder: Dave Driscoll, 64, Beverly

I’ve been lucky enough to witness some memorable moments at Fenway, such as the home runs by Bernie Carbo and Carlton Fisk in Game 6 of the 1975 World Series, Carl Yastrzemski’s 3,000th hit, and Big Papi’s grand slam against the Tigers in Game 2 of the 2013 ALCS.

Watching a no-hitter unfold is more like a slow simmer, and it ended with Fenway erupting and me tossing my hat on the field after Buchholz closed it out.

I worked for a company that had great seats, five rows from the field on the third-base line by the visitors’ dugout. I had four seats, and I went with my wife, and my brother and sister-in-law, who came down from Vermont.

As usual with a no-hitter, we started taking notice of the hit total around the fifth inning. Around the seventh, we were all thinking this could be something special. And of course, nobody mentioned the phrase “no-hitter.” We would just point to the scoreboard and nod our heads. It was a nervous type of quiet in the park after the sixth inning, except for Dustin Pedroia’s pick in the seventh that saved the no-no.

A great night – and I got my hat back!

A’s vs. Reds, 1990

The game: Oct. 17, 1990, Riverfront Stadium. World Series Game 2

That’s the ticket: Aisle 338, Row 24, Seat 12. ($40)

The ticket holder: Christopher P. Schlueter, 42, Hilo, Hawaii

I grew up in Cincinnati. Prior to the beginning of the 1990 World Series, the Reds offered fans a call-in ticket lottery to purchase a limited number of tickets at face value. I recall being at my grandma’s house and calling the Reds’ ticket office — without a redial feature. After hours and dozens of attempts, I reached a Reds employee and had my dad finalize the process. We had two tickets for Games 1 and 2, $40 each. As a 13-year-old kid, I had pulled off the impossible.

I couldn’t believe we were going to the World Series. “We” included my dad and twin brother. Even though he had no part in the ticket acquisition, my brother insisted he attend Game 1 with my dad. I forgave him after Game 2 turned out to be a classic with a thrilling walk-off win for the Reds.

Our seats were in the left-center field “red seats” a few rows from the top of the stadium. The view was partially blocked by a huge Coca-Cola sign above us. But for me, the seats were perfect, as was the entire atmosphere. I’ll never forget the rolls of toilet paper streaming through the air in slow motion when the Reds won.

The stub is special because it reminds me of my grandma, my dad and my brother, and pulling off a small miracle with the Reds’ ticket office that allowed me to witness the greatness of a championship season.

Red Sox vs. Yankees, 2004

The game: Oct. 20, 2004, Yankee Stadium. ALCS Game 7

That’s the ticket: Tier 7, Row V, Seat 19. ($71)

The ticket holder: Larry Rosoff, 65, San Diego

The morning after the Red Sox beat the Yankees in Game 5 of the 2004 ALCS at Fenway, a friend and co-worker, Matt Fitzpatrick, told me he saw two tickets available on eBay for Game 7 at Yankee Stadium. Face value: $71. Asking price: $180.

If there was a Game 7, Matt asked me: Would I be interested in going? I let him know that night was my eighth wedding anniversary and I would have to run it by my wife, Lisa.

As soon as the Sox won Game 6, I nervously asked Lisa if I could go with Matt.

Her response: “Of course you can go, husband! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Just don’t come home if they lose!”

So there we were, Matt and I, at Game 7, Yankee Stadium. I started to call home runs before they were hit, and Sox fans were buying me beers for each of the four home runs I called during the game. It was after the fourth home run — by Mark Bellhorn, in the eighth inning — that a Yankees fan came up to me and offered to buy me a beer if I would stop predicting home runs for the Sox.

When the game was over — Red Sox 10, Yankees 3 — we raced down behind the third-base dugout to party with the ecstatic mob of Sox fans. We celebrated until 4:30 a.m.

We headed back to work from there and made it in around 8 a.m. That evening, Lisa and I had a double-celebration – the unimaginable Red Sox win and our eighth anniversary.

Indians vs. Red Sox, 1979

The game: Aug. 8, 1979, Fenway Park, first game of day/night doubleheader

That’s the ticket: Section 43, Row 25, Seat 4. ($3)

The ticket holder: Darin Weeks, 49, Sandwich

Growing up in Waltham in the 1970s, every kid was a Red Sox fan. I was no different. Like all the kids in the neighborhood, I played Little League and my team was the “Indians.” My father came home from work one day and said he had secured tickets for an afternoon tilt against the Cleveland Indians. The moment I saw the tickets was heightened by seeing the Sox would play the team whose name I wore on my Little League jersey.

Upon arriving outside the park, my first memories were how different it was from my imagination. Fenway was more a warehouse than the Taj Mahal I built it in my head. Those days, there wasn’t the street festival that exists today, only the guys who mysteriously kept asking me and my dad if we had tickets.

Upon seeing the field and the “Wall,” my first thought was how bright and green everything was. This wasn’t the blurry field I’d seen on TV. This was real. And from that moment on, the Red Sox became “real.”

As far as the game goes, I don’t remember much beyond seeing Jim Rice hit a homer and the Sox losing to Cleveland. I’ve been to hundreds of Red Sox games since, but no Fenway memory will ever be clearer than that day. And no ticket stub in my possession will ever mean more.

Yankees vs. Red Sox, 1978

The game: Sept. 10, 1978, Fenway Park.

That’s the ticket:Box Seat, Section 3, Row A, Seat 2. ($5.75)

The ticket holder:Todd Radom, 56, Brewster, N.Y.

I am a proud son of New York, born and educated on the island of Manhattan. I grew up and remain a Boston Red Sox fan. There are reasons, but they are best saved for another day.

I attended the final two games of the“Boston Massacre” with a group of Yankees fans, including my own father. This was my first visit to Fenway, and I saved the ticket stubs — tiny souvenirs of 48 hours of pain and suffering.

In the Sunday finale, I was seated in the front row of the right-field box seats, just beyond the Pesky Pole. Boston trotted out rookie pitcher Bobby Sprowl to stop the bleeding. He lasted two-thirds of an inning, and the Yankees completed the sweep with a 7-4 victory.

My tickets to Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS and the decisive games of the 2004, 2013, and 2018 World Series remind me of the best of times, but these two stubs from 1978 bear witness to the first true test of my fandom.

Mariners vs. Red Sox, 2011

The game: May 1, 2011, Fenway Park.

That’s the ticket: Section 18, Row D, Seat 22. ($75)

The ticket holder: J.P. Plunkett, 49, Milton

It was actually a day I dreamed of for years: the first time entering Fenway Park with my son Patrick. When it happened, it was better than I dreamed it would be, dreams that began long before he was born. They likely started when I was a Fenway hot dog vendor from 1986-1994.

The weather was gorgeous. Even though I had been going to a dozen or more games each year since the mid-1990s, Fenway seemed greener that day. It seemed better. Warmer. Even happier.

Patrick met Wally the Green Monster. We cheered, we high-fived, we ate, we hugged. Even though 2011 in the real world wasn’t too long ago, in baseball years it was. We saw Ichiro and King Felix for the Mariners. Playing for the Sox that day were Tim Wakefield, Jonathan Papelbon, Jacoby Ellsbury, Adrian Gonzalez, J.D.Drew and Carl Crawford! Wow.

That day brought me back to the mid-to-late 1970s when my dad first started bringing me to Fenway to cheer together for Luis Tiant, Dennis Eckersley, Jim Rice, Carl Yastrzemski and George “Boomer” Scott. Truly a life’s circle!

The fun didn’t end for my son Patrick that day once the game had ended. We headed home to Milton, where his rookie ball Little League team, the Phillies, had a game. I coached. We smiled and laughed some more.

Rangers vs. Indians, 1993

The game: Aug. 15, 1993, Cleveland Stadium. Final win of Nolan Ryan’s career

That’s the ticket:Open seating. ($6)

The ticket holder:Dane Thompson, 53, Waynesboro, Va.

It really seemed like the Indians’ fortunes were finally turning around in 1993. They had Kenny Lofton, Albert Belle, Sandy Alomar Jr., Jim Thome, Carlos Baerga and a young Manny Ramirez. A new stadium was being built. Being a Tribe fan for so long was starting to pay off.

I was just out of college and didn’t get to games as often as when I was a kid, but my best friend was in town on leave from the Navy, so on a whim, we made the drive downtown for the 1:35 game. There were a few reasons to go to the game that day. One was knowing that it might be the last Tribe game we’d see at the old stadium before the move to Jacobs Field for the ’94 season. The other was that Ryan was pitching for the Rangers.

Neither of us had seen him pitch in person, and since he might be retiring, it was most likely our last chance. Ryan also had a buzz around him after roughing up Robin Ventura a few weeks prior.

I’d go to Municipal Stadium as a kid in the ’70s to watch awful Tribe games. You could sit anywhere because there were usually no more than 5,000 fans inside this 80,000-seat stadium. That day was definitely different. There were more than 60,000 fans. Biggest Tribe crowd I’d ever been a part of. Our $6 general admission tickets couldn’t get us any closer than the left-field upper deck. Nosebleeds. Everyone probably had the same motivations to go as we did — to see Nolan Ryan and pay their last respects to the Mistake on the Lake.

It was a great day of beer and baseball, even though we lost. It wasn’t until years later that I noticed it was the last win of Ryan’s career. This stub has been in a hard plastic case ever since.

I’m glad I never used it to redeem the pizza coupon on the back.

Indians vs. Red Sox, 1986

The game: Aug. 31, 1986, Fenway Park.

That’s the ticket: Section 31, Row 12, Seat 18. ($8)

The ticket holder: Brian Levesque, 41, Mansfield

This was my first trip to Fenway Park. I was 7. My brother was 8. We were with our parents.

We grew up in Rhode Island, so my brother and I had been to McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket numerous times. It wasn’t until we walked up the ramp on the first-base side at Fenway and looked out onto the field that I realized how much different this was than McCoy. I was honestly stunned and awestruck to be looking at the Red Sox down below.

Baseball was my favorite sport as a kid, both to play and to watch. I still enjoy it to this day, sitting with my dad and my son watching the Red Sox.

The game was close, and the Red Sox pulled out a late-inning, come-from-behind win over the Indians. I was disappointed I couldn’t see Roger Clemens pitch, but Oil Can Boyd threw seven strong innings and kept it close enough for the Red Sox to pull one out.

We took our own children to their first game on July 15, 2018, and it was just as special to me to share Fenway with our children. I also had my parents join us for the day. To top things off, it happened to be a Sunday where the kids got to run the bases after the game.

Orioles vs. Red Sox, 2004

The game: Sept. 20, 2004, Fenway Park.

That’s the ticket: Dugout Box, Section 16, Row 2, Seat 4.

The ticket holder:Rob Bernstein, 62, Brookline.

I was working as a producer for WRKO-AM in Boston. One night, management offered its Fenway luxury suite to the producing staff from WRKO and WEEI. On a table in the suite were four box seat tickets on the first-base side, about 10 rows from the field. Three other guys and I decided to go down and watch the game from there for a while.

When we got to the seats, two of them were occupied. As it turned out, the guys sitting in our seats were filmmaker Peter Farrelly and a cameraman with a small camera on his shoulder. They were filming scenes for the Jimmy Fallon/Drew Barrymore movie “Fever Pitch.”

We stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then Peter noticed us and apologized. He then asked if we’d be willing to take his seats instead. He pointed to the owner’s seats, the four front-row seats next to the Sox dugout. That seemed an acceptable swap to us, so for a few innings we got to watch the game from the best seats in the house. I even snagged a ball when an Orioles batter hit a foul that hugged the wall and came right to me.

We returned to the luxury suite to watch the last couple of innings, but then there was an announcement that at game’s end fans could remain in the stands while a scene from “Fever Pitch” was shot. Most people stayed, and we watched as they set up lights. Actors in Sox uniforms took the field. Multiple takes were shot of the scene where Drew Barrymore jumps onto the field and runs to Jimmy Fallon on the first-base side, avoiding the goofy security guys.

All in all, a memorable night at the ballpark.

Angels vs. Red Sox, 1999

The game: May 7, 1999, Fenway Park

That’s the ticket: Roof Box 27, Row A, Seat 6. ($26)

The ticket holder: Eric Londergan, 48, Jamaica Plain

It was Mo Vaughn’s return to Fenway as an Angel. While he was the reason I waited outside the Red Sox ticket office on a cold January day, it was Pedro Martinez who stole the spotlight that night, giving one of the best performances I’ve seen in person.

I’ve been saving ticket stubs for a long time. I don’t remember why I did at first, but they’ve become décor in a Red Sox-themed kitchen. Most of them are just tiny pieces of wallpaper to me, but there are some standouts — such as Fenway’s 100th anniversary and my first trip to Yankee Stadium.

Honestly, my ticket stubs aren’t souvenirs of games I saw or memorials to players I liked. I look at them and I think of all of the people who liked my company enough to want to go to a baseball game with me. Each ticket stub represents time spent with a friend or a loved one, sitting next to them, just talking for a few hours. It is unfathomable to me how much I took that for granted.

What was once such a mundane event … sitting in a crowd, but being with one person … will be a luxury for the fortunate among us who survive the current sports vacuum and the reasons behind it.

The next ticket stub I save might be the most precious because it will mean I can once more experience time spent with a close friend.

(Top photo: Courtesy of Brian Levesque)