I know I have taken donut analyses to a level probably unseen before and even more likely to levels undesired by anyone who hasn’t commented at least 3 times on the aforementioned entry. So, if you made the mistake of reading the entire donut entry and now see a headline with donut in it again, I’m giving you the heads up this one is not going to include any more analysis.
It is, on the other hand, a wonderful follow-up story.
For those of you who haven’t read the infamous donut debate, I will sum it up quickly here. I had a group of Harvard grads email me asking what was the ideal assortment of donuts to buy for their fantasy baseball league’s annual draft. As a side note, think of it as a field study, they also asked what would be the perfect assortment for my team’s clubhouse. I went into some lengthy research and in-depth formulas to create the “perfect combination” taking into account variety, health, quantity, and preference of donuts. It took hours and culminated in me running from our clubhouse in Midland, TX after our game had ended (where we were about to board a bus to Frisco, TX) to a nearby hotel so I could get Internet access to post my answer before the clock struck midnight on Friday night (June 5th, which happened to not-so-coincidentally be “National Donut Day”).
After posting my discussion and conclusions, I ran back to the bus and by a matter of minutes avoided being left behind. We arrived safely in Frisco and I pitched the first game of the series on Saturday. Sunday afternoon at the field, as I always do, I asked our pitching coach for the game chart from the night before so I could make a copy and keep it for my records.
It was about 3pm on Sunday, and just before heading out for batting practice I asked our clubby to make a copy of the chart for me and put it in my locker while I was outside. He said it wouldn’t be a problem and I went out for BP. Within 10 minutes of batting practice beginning, I noticed the clubby walking across the field towards me with a sheet of paper in his hand. I rolled my eyes a bit and thought to myself, “what does he expect me to do with this copy of the chart while I’m shagging batting practice in 95-degree heat?” As he got closer, he started to say something to me in a wavering voice. “Um, the home clubby said, well…this is weird, cause we’re the road team and….um.” I perceived it as a nervousness that was brought about from confusion and an uncertainty of what to say. I almost blurted out loud to save the guy the embarrassment, “If you can’t get a copy made, it’s not a big deal, I’ll figure out another way to get it.”
But at the moment I was about to speak, he handed me the sheet of paper. I saw it wasn’t the game chart from the night before. He continued, “We’ve been here 2 years and we’ve never seen a guy on the road get a package delivered, but…” As he stuttered, I looked at the sheet he had handed me and it was a list. As I moved my eyes down the list I saw familiar notations: “Chocolate Frosted – 11, Sugar Raised – 11, Glazed – 11, Boston Kreme – 8,” and so on. My mind and the clubby’s ability to convey what he was finally trying to say converged at came together at the exact same moment.
“You had 10 dozen donuts delivered to your locker,” the clubby said as I saw on the top of the delivery sheet at which I had been staring blankly “John W.”
I laughed so hard, I coughed. I smiled so big my cheeks hurt. I was on cloud nine for the rest of batting practice, so excited to see my assortment before my eyes. I couldn’t believe how thoughtful and downright hilarious it was for John to send the donuts. When we got back into the clubhouse, sure enough, in the EXACT quantities I had specified would be appropriate for the clubhouse, there were 10 boxes of Dunkin Donuts awaiting our team.
I promised I wouldn’t do any analysis on this post, but I will say, in practice my assortment worked perfectly. 9 of the 10 dozen were gone by the end of the game that night. By the time we showed up to the field the next day, the last dozen was grabbed by guys on the way in. There was a good variety all the way down to the end, so it wasn’t like there were eight Sugar Raised left over that finally people had mercy on and ate.
I was so touched by the thought and effort John W. put in I took a number of pictures so I could post in case you are in as much disbelief as I was while shagging BP. Though I’m an insanely picky and healthy eater, as you can see I did indulge in one cinnamon cake donut as promised in honor of John.
Notice in the first picture (you can click on all of them to enlarge, btw) I couldn’t even fit all the boxes on the table. There’s 3 more dozen under the first box. On the right, you can see the donuts starting to disappear.
I posted my donut analyses at almost midnight on Friday night. By Sunday, that’s right, Sunday! (less than 48 hours later), at 2pm, there were 10 dozen donuts at my locker. These Harvard guys don’t mess around.
As the word spread about where the donuts came from, I have had a number of teammates request I begin writing blogs about TV’s and pool tables I think are appropriate for the clubhouse. If anyone wants to jump the gun and get a call on my blog, you can send all gifts to:
c/o Chris Hayes
3000 S. 56th St.
Springdale, AR 72762