So I press the elevator button to ride up to the cheap seats, and the doors slide open onto Jeff Wilpon. He's on his cell phone, but pushily I say "yo!" Then I notice his cell phone is labeled with its number; I note it down; I text him. A while later I see I've missed a call, and there's a voicemail: "Hi Patrick, this is Cary calling from the New York Mets. We want to thank you for... writing to Jeff Wilpon. I thought I'd give you a call back to see if there's anything you'd like to discuss. My phone number is [redacted.] Thank you again, bye." Ladies and gentleman, there's my story. And Jeff Wilpon remains in my contacts.