I spent a great deal of time over the past several weeks daydreaming about what I would do with the $50,000 I would win after becoming the 50 millionth fan to attend Oriole Park at Camden Yards.

My plans were to get rid of my debt, buy a new car and spend what ever was left on a couple of Camden Yards beers.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t the 50 millionth fan, but I was close, somewhere around 49,999,927, I would guess.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, I’m probably the kind of guy who says I almost won $20,000 on a scratch-off lottery ticket because I revealed two of the three wild cherry bunches. But I was really close. Honest.

I knew that Camden Yards was fewer than 3,000 fans away from the mark going into Tuesday’s game. For a Boston game, I figured at least 3,000 fans would be beating down the gates at 5 p.m., so I left work in Columbia at 4:30.

Oriole officials had said that there was no way to determine precisely who the 50 millionth fan would be, so they would guesstimate and then give the prize to someone who looked like an Orioles fan. I was wearing my bright orange George Sherrill give-away T shirt (to prove I’m a regular fan) and my well-worn, black-fitted O’s cap with the 1965 smilin’ bird logo (to prove I know my Oriole history). I parked in my usual secret spot (always open and no tickets yet) and started walking toward Camden Yards from the Raven Stadium side.

It was about 5 p.m., and I began to worry as I spotted other fans walking briskly and seemingly thousands of cars already parked. Surely 3,000 fans would enter the park before I was even able to purchase my ticket, I thought. When I reached Camden Yards at about 5:05, I watched the fans swarming the gates and thought my dreams of a moment in the sun had been dashed.

Somehow, though, I was able to purchase a ticket without delay at a side box office and was in line with the masses by 5:15 at the north (Babe Ruth statue) gate. I hadn’t seen any signs of confetti or giant novelty checks being presented, so I figured I was still in the running.

While I was waiting, an auxiliary turnstile opened, and I scurried toward it. As I approached I realized my mistake: The 50 millionth fan won’t be spotted way over here! So, I deftly ducked back into the main line — I didn’t consider it butting because it wasn’t exactly orderly — sensing that the 50 millionth fan would be entering at any second.

As I passed through the turnstile I made sure to stand tall so I would be spotted. I also tried to look enthusiastic but not too enthusiastic. I wanted to give the impression I was a little down on my luck and could really use the $50,000.

With an expectant grin, I handed the attendant my ticket. There were no sirens or bells, and the confetti stayed in place. I knew it was over.

I called my older brother Matthew to see how he had fared. “I wasn’t the 50 millionth fan,” he said. “Me neither,” I replied.

I hung up and looked at my phone to make a note of the time: 5:21. Just then I heard a whoop.

Some prankster, I figured, trying to make others think he was the lucky one. Then a pair of Orioles staffers with a giant bouquet of orange-and-black balloons hurried past, followed by the Oriole bird holding the giant check, and a cluster of cameramen.

The group surrounded a young man in a white Orioles hat who had passed through the same turnstile I had entered moments earlier. He looked like the happiest person in the world. “I just missed it,” I thought, along with a few other things.

But there was some satisfaction in knowing my strategy was sound. I gave it a good try and missed by only a few minutes.

The odd thing is, the one time in my life I was a few minutes early and it cost me a cool 50 large. The season tickets for five years would have been nice, too. And the limo ride, commemorative jersey, on field pregame ceremony, VIP treatment. Man, that would have been sweet.

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