Written by Katelyn Davis
Wife to Wade Davis

My husband Wade and I met when we were very young. I was 17 and he was 19. I was a junior in high school and spent most of my time playing softball either at school or around the country. My father was a manager of one of the teams I was on, and made SURE that wherever we went we had a bus, because his little blonde brat of a daughter (me) was afraid of flying. We went as far as Texas for some tournaments! I didn't care about how long it took, and after a while my teammates didn't either. Besides, it was a nice bus, there was no way I was going to fly anywhere until I was old enough to be heavily sedated or better yet..hammered, ha!

When I met Wade in the spring of 2005 he was playing for Short Season Single A Rookie Ball in Hudson Valley, NY for the Renegades (SS single A affiliate of the Rays). My hometown of Marlboro, NY was just a short drive across the Hudson River so it was easy for Wade and I to hang out all the time, whenever we wanted all summer. When he made the all-star team that year and I had to drive to Brooklyn I thought that would be the extent of me traveling to watch baseball..I had my own games to play.


Late August came and it was time for Wade to head back to Florida to go play in the instructional leagues (a league that most kids that are drafted out of high school go to for one or two years). He also lived in a small town in central Florida in the offseason. To be quite honest I was fine with it..a day went by....two days went by...suddenly a week went by and at the same time Wade and I both knew we were in trouble.

I actually missed the big doof.

That was when I took my first flight to Orlando. It actually went pretty great. The flight was at night, it was direct from NYC to Orlando and the plane was huge, so I thought it was awesome. So for the rest of the year I took the Jetblue direct flight probably about 15 times. No biggie. After spring training of 06 it was a different story.

Wade has been to EVERY single level of the minor league system, all with the Rays. Starting at:

Rookie Ball in Princeton, WV
Short Season Rookie A in Hudson Valley,NY
Low single A in Battle Creek,MI
High single A in Vero Beach,FL
Double A in Montgomery,AL
Triple A in Durham,NC

As you can see, Wade's next stop after Hudson Valley was Battle Creek,MI. I have made it no secret I hated Battle Creek, but it wasn't just because of the town itself (which wasn't pretty either...picture a scene from COPS- and that's it) but it was the fact that the only airport around was in Kalamazoo, MI. Clearly I wasn't going to be able to go on the JetBlue website and get a direct flight from JFK to a place called...Kalamazoo. This was the beginning of multiple stop flights, or as I like to call it "give me a gun, knife, or spoon..I'm about to commit suicide".

My first flight was from JFK to Detroit, and Detroit to Kalamazoo. I was a big girl now, so yes I was flying alone and considered myself quite the little traveler. JFK to Detroit was fine, I made it to my next gate and patiently awaited for my plane to arrive. I sat right next to the windows so I could easily spot my vessle and give it a good eye inspection and give it my personal approval. I waited...and waited...there were no jets whatsoever. Not being taxi'd to the gate, not being started...hell, there wasn't even one parked here.

I MUST have been in the wrong terminal or something. Then, over the loud speaker I head "Now boarding the flight to Kalamazoo..." I saw 8 people rise from there seats. 8 PEOPLE. Of course, being the traveling veteran I had become on my flights to Orlando, I marched my little 18 year old New York butt right up to the counter and said EXACTLY as follows:

"Hi yea, how are ya...I heard the flight for Kalamazoo is boarding?"
-"Well yes ma'am, do you need help finding your seat?"
"No I need help finding the plane Im supposed to be seated ON"
-"Yes, its right outside the window..we are all ready for you"
(I looked out the window and saw what had to be the smallest plane that man has ever created)
"No. That's not a plane...that's more of a hang-glider. I'm looking for something with an engine"
"(chuckle) Young Lady, it's fine. Can I help you with your bag"
"Well, I'm 18 so ma'am worked great the first time. And no, I can get my bag...although I'm not sure it'll fit."

Now that sounds rude...but I was terrified. When I'm terrified I get pretty mouthy.

No one had warned me about this, I immediately hated the state of Michigan, the city of Detroit..and George Bush all in one thought. After noticing the women at the counter were still giggling a little bit to themselves I grabbed my adorable purple Dooney & Burke roll-away (hahah) and literally started to stomp down the jet bridge to become the 9th passenger of this joke. And all of a sudden, I felt as if I weighed 400lbs, my temperature was 105 and there were HUGE black spots everywhere.

Down I went.

Clearly I don't remember anything about the next 30 minutes but I did know when i woke up the same lady at the desk was on MY CELL PHONE speaking to what sounded like a panicked overweight man from the Bronx. She had called my father from what I was assuming "Daddy" in my cell phone and I was being held by two men in security jackets.

I specifically remember coming to and seeing that I was literally drooling all over the poor man. Whoops.

I still couldn't talk but I was definitely aware of what was going on..just vaguely watching. The next phone call went to Wade. My father must have relayed the information to the airline employee. She told him he would have to come to Detroit and be with his girlfriend...because they were sending me to the hospital. Oh hell no, that's all it took. Immediately I had enough sense to open my mouth and say I can talk, let me talk. At this time, it was about 2pm. Battle Creek was 5 hours from Detroit and Wade had a game at 7. The numbers didn't add up.

I had my parents calling every doctor in the city trying to find the correct hospital to transport me to, and a boyfriend (whom at the time I was probably still trying to impress) thinking he had an epileptic on his hands. They hadn't told anyone I fainted...I believe their choice of words were "shes down, she went down and now she is unresponsive." Now, as a parent...I think if someone told me my daughter was by herself, across the country, in a random airport with random people being told she is "unresponsive" I would not be too excited.

I got myself up, asked for a sugar packet and some Gatorade and I felt better almost instantly. I straightened things out with my parents, but I couldn't convince Wade not to miss his game and drive a total of 10 hours to get his spaz of a girlfriend. He came and got me THAT time. But every time after that, when I went to Battle Creek, MI I was forced to take the bush whacker plane. It was the most frightening summer of my life, and I loathed it every time- but some Dramamine before the flight did the trick. After that summer, I found my way around the go cart planes and was always on something that actually resembled an aircraft.

But I'll never forget it, and neither will Wade- especially since I puked on him on the drive home from Detroit.

Moral of the story;
you love a baseball player?
then don't mouth off and get on the plane.....before you make a fool of yourself. ahh young love ;]


  1. This is a hilarious story and you are a fantastic story teller.

  2. This story had me lauging out loud. My husband kept asking me what is so funny?? This site is amazing, I love that none of us are alone on this journey