A funny thing happened to me last week at the Angels game.

I know that there wasn’t much humor in last Tuesday’s 7-3 loss to the Rangers, bit I managed to find some anyway.

For the first time, I wore my brand new, Angels retro jersey that I purchased at the Angels Team Store. I’ve always had bad luck buying jerseys with players’ names on the back. Every time I’d invest in a player jersey, the guy would be seriously injured or traded soon after. I know there are lots of you out there with Morales, Kazmir, or Vaughn jerseys in their closet who know exactly what I mean. I started to feel responsible, like the kiss of death, so I vowed never to buy a personalized team jersey again..

Until this year.

Finally there is an Angel player whose name would always be fitting for me to wear. Trevor Bell. Even his number is perfect. 22 is my favorite number! (after #22 Bill Buckner, my favorite Cub of the 70s) So I went to the Team Store and had my name put on the back of a brand new jersey.

Last night, I wore my #22 Bell jersey with pride.

Then, in the 3rd inning, after Tyler Chatwod was roughed up early, the unexpected happened. Trevor Bell, who had been called up from Salt Lake just the day before, entered the game.

I stood and cheered when he ran in from the bullpen, causing everyone around me in sec 304 to wonder how I got such a rare jersey.

“Do you know him?” the guy behind me asked.

“We’re sort of related,” I stretched the truth, thinking that there must be some shared relative on some very distant branch of the Bell Family tree.

I had to smile as I watched the young pitcher hold his own for a few innings, realizing that he and I were probably the only two people in the entire stadium wearing the same jersey.

But after pitching four and a third innings, my pal Trevor was sent back down to the minors.


Sorry Trevor. It must have been the jersey.

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