And then there were two

By Troy Foster

GOODLAND, Kan. — Anyone who’s been reading along already knows that Nolan has decided to leave our baseball road trip to watch the rest of it from home.

He made his decision four days ago, but it wasn’t until this morning that Daren and I drove him to the Denver airport and wished him and his girlfriend well as they head back to Idaho.

Before this journey began, I knew we might not all make it. In fact, I’m not even sure Daren and I will make it to the end. The goal is this: attend one game in every Major League Baseball stadium in the country. But it’s also so much more than that. We’re trying to find a side of baseball most people have never seen, and we want to share it with anyone who will read, watch or listen.

Daren and I share this idea that we’re on a mission bigger than the three of us — one that might be as much about life and love as it is about a game. For Daren, these 75 days are a transition in his life. He’s between relationships, schools and careers. When the journey ends in Phoenix on Aug. 4, he doesn’t know where he’s headed. He thinks this adventure might help him sort it out.

I think the same can be said about Nolan.

When we first began discussing this project, Nolan was still living the single life. We made a tepid agreement in January to do this basecrawl when the guy still ranked No. 1 on my list of all-time bachelors.

Between then and now, however, he met a sweet girl named Beth. I’ve known Nolan for five years, and I was once convinced that he’d be single for the rest of his life. I’ve never seen him focus so much energy on another human being.

I think Nolan’s love for Beth is genuine; sometimes it even borders on comical.

I don’t think there’s another person on the planet who has written as many text messages as Nolan in the past 17 days. This guy texts Beth around the clock — when he wakes, as he goes to bed and maybe even when he sleeps. Nolan texts at baseball games, at the dinner table and possibly while he’s showering.

After we saw the Padres beat Daren’s Mets on Thursday, we drove all night and the next day from San Diego to Denver. I took the first sleep shift while Nolan drove, and the guy woke me up every 5 minutes as he swerved over the rumble strips while texting Beth. This went on until 5 in the morning. 

I thought I had seen everything until our first morning jog. Nolan brought his cell phone and carried on a continuous text conversation while I choked on dust.

Nolan was reunited with Beth on Saturday when she arrived in Denver to be his date to a wedding. She attended the Rockies-Brewers game with us Sunday, and when I pulled Nolan away from her to head up to the purple mile-high line, I caught him text messaging again. They were only separated for 30 minutes and he claims the text wasn’t to her, but I’m not convinced.

I hope to write a book about our basecrawl when we’re done, but I’m not sure it will have as many words as Nolan has typed to Beth with his right thumb these past weeks.

As I mentioned in my first blog, I decided to do this project for several reasons, among them BECAUSE I STILL CAN! I think Daren and Nolan threw their hats in for the same reason. I considered this possibly the Last Great Adventure among three great friends. We won’t be single forever. We might even get married and have families one day. 

Shortly after we watched Nolan wave goodbye from the airport security line, Daren turned to me and said, “I think that might have marked the end of an era.”

It sure might have. I was hoping our last game in Phoenix would mark the end of that era, but it came a little early. Yet it was natural.

I’ve been asked by a few people in e-mails, phone calls and whispers whether I’m mad at Nolan for deciding to go home. After all, his presence helped mitigate our costs, he shared some of the technical duties associated with a Web-based project and he was a vital contributor to the work we’re doing as documentarians. 

I’ll answer that question this way. If Nolan had gotten out of the airport security line, walked back to us and said he had decided to finish the trip, my answer would have been “no you’re not.”

Not because I didn’t want him to continue, or because “it’s too late now, pal.” I would have said no because he needs to go home. He needs to be with Beth. He needs to be comfortable in his own skin.

Nolan already said it in his own blog. When he finally told us he wanted to go home he broke down in tears. He missed Beth that much.

Nolan attributed his emotions at that moment to love. Although I’m disappointed to be losing one of my best friends from our epic adventure, in some ways I’m envious.

Because if the tears rolling down Nolan’s face were truly due to love, than I’d sure like to know what that feels like. 

(There’s more on this and our other adventures at BaseCrawl.com.)