So, I found myself at the Astros game the other night. You know how it is, the usual ballpark buzz.
And there they were, the folks selling the 50/50 raffle tickets. They’re always there, game in, game out. Most times, I just walk on by. Don’t give it a second thought, really.
But this time, I dunno. Maybe I was feeling a bit lucky, or maybe it was just the price of the beer making me think, “what’s a few more bucks?” So, I stopped.
I figured, why not? Tossed some cash to the seller, got my little slip of paper. Full of hope, those numbers are, for about two seconds.
Stuffed it in my wallet. Honestly, I pretty much forgot about it right after. The game was heating up, a couple of good plays, and my mind was on that.
Then, later in the game, they flash the winning number up on that giant screen. You see everyone, like a Pavlovian response, digging into pockets and purses. So, I did too.
Pulled out my ticket. Looked at it. Looked at the screen. Back to the ticket.
Nope. Not even close. Not a single number matched, I don’t think. Classic.
But it got me thinking, standing there. You see the pot total they flash up – pretty big numbers. Half to the winner, half to their foundation. Sounds good on paper, right? Helping out, all that.
It just threw me back to this memory, totally different thing. Years ago, at a little church fair, they had a cake walk. You paid a quarter, walked around in a circle to some scratchy music. Music stops, if you’re on the lucky square, you get a homemade cake. Simple.
The sheer joy on some kid’s face winning a lopsided chocolate cake? You can’t beat that. It wasn’t about getting rich. It was just… I don’t know, real.
And I’m looking around the stadium, at all these people who’ve paid good money for tickets, for food, for everything. And they’re still chucking money at this raffle. Is it the dream of a big win? Or just part of the whole “ballgame experience” package deal they’ve bought into?
I didn’t win. Shocker, I know. Probably never will with those odds. But for that brief moment, you know, when you’re checking your numbers, there’s that little spark of “what if?”
Then it’s gone. Poof. Back to the game, back to your overpriced soda.
It’s a funny little ritual, this whole raffle thing. A way to feel like you’re part of something bigger, maybe? Or just a very effective way to raise funds. Probably a bit of both.
Anyway, that was my big adventure with the Astros 50/50 raffle. Didn’t change my life, didn’t make me rich. But it gave me something to chew on during the drive home, stuck in traffic. So, there’s that.
