My Kinda Saturday Night & some other stuff that happened

Typically, in the month of May, I would want to write about the Greatest Spectacle in Racing.

However, while that will always be one of my favorite topics, my wife, Megan, and I recently had a once-in-a-lifetime experience. We had the good fortune of attending the Luke Combs My Kinda Saturday Night Tour concert at Notre Dame Stadium. This 40-something doesn’t get to a ton of concerts anymore, so I was really excited for this one. I’ve only been into country music for the last two or three years and Luke Combs has been my favorite of that genre.

Tickets for this mega-concert went on sale last October, literally while we were driving to our fall break destination. We pulled over to a McDonald’s parking lot so we could both be on our phones to try to get seats before they sold out. We had our friends, a couple who were going with us, do the same to give us the best possible chance. I’ve written before that ticket-buying is one of the most nerve-wracking events in my life, and this proved to be no exception. However, when it was all said and done (after anxiety-eating half the menu) we accomplished our task and bought four tickets to the show.

We were so excited to snag these well-sought-after seats for that April concert date. Wait … an outdoor April concert … in South Bend, Indiana? More on that later.

Shortly after securing the tickets, I jumped on the Bootlegger website (the official fan site for Luke Combs) and signed up for a chance to win a meet and greet before the show. I figured, why not? It never hurts to try.

After six months of joyful anticipation, the week of the concert had finally arrived. I had completely forgotten I signed up for that meet and greet. That Monday, I happened to be checking my junk email (yes, I’m a nerd who checks his junk mail every day) and saw something about Luke Combs. There was also another word … “winner.” I went ahead and clicked on it out of curiosity. The email informed me I was one of 25 winners for a meet and greet for me and a guest.

Now, obviously I thought it was spam, so I went to the Bootlegger site and signed in. There it was, plain as day. I won a meet and greet! I have never won as much as a game of bingo in my life, let alone being one of 25 for a concert that was going to hold over 80,000 people.

That tidbit of news made things even more exciting when the Saturday concert day rolled around. The one issue with winning something like a meet and greet is that they give you virtually zero information, other than to pick up the package at will-call for further info.

The problem was, it didn’t say where the will-call was.

I assumed it was at the box office, but of course it wasn’t. It was located in a random trailer next to one of the gates. Getting the info for that location was just a touch more difficult than learning the deepest secrets of Area 51, but I managed.

When we arrived, I learned I had massively underestimated what 80,000 people was going to look like when trying to get around the small city of Notre Dame, Indiana. And this is coming from someone who goes to the race every year with 300,000 others. Our super-secret meet and greet package had to be picked up by 5:30 p.m. and we were stuck in traffic in an Uber at about 5:15 p.m. This was going to be close, but no way I was going to screw this up. So, I jumped out of the Uber, leaving my wife and friends behind and started running. I can only imagine the other cars stuck in traffic, taking in the site of a 40-something me huffing and puffing, sprinting toward the stadium.

The good news is, I managed to make it and received my letter that gave the location of the meet and greet. The letter then immediately self-destructed.

Megan and I met Luke, and he was as nice and as normal a guy and we had hoped he would be. With that amazing experience behind us, we made our way to the seats for the show.

Oh yeah, I did mention earlier that it was April in South Bend. It was 40 degrees that night, so it was officially my first concert in a winter coat.

The merchandise and bathroom lines rivaled anything you’ve ever seen at Disney. However, I did find one men’s room that was hidden because the line for the women’s room was so long. So, after knocking down a few ladies in cowboy boots and earmuffs, I had a bathroom all to myself … hee-hee.

The show was amazing, and we were exhausted! So, after not being able to find an Uber out of there, a thousand-mile walk, led by a couple of morons who may have indulged in some beverages (possibly me and my friend), a ride from a total stranger who felt bad for us, and two wives who were questioning their choice of spouses (me and my friend again), we finally made it back to the hotel and put this trip in the books.

I realize that last paragraph was a lot of information that really should have some explanation, but I’m out of time, so let’s save that for another day.

The moral of the story is … don’t forget to check your junk mail.

Tim Rathz can be reached at 40somethinginfishers@gmail.com. Follow on Facebook or Instagram.