Mike Langdon, an Angels fan, father, industrial equipment salesman and all-around regular guy, had never been this lost at the ballpark.

A former season-ticket holder, the Irvine resident has been going to games at Angel Stadium for the past 15 seasons and had never once been where he found himself this past Saturday night in the bottom of the first inning as the Angels played host to the New York Yankees. He was in a restroom – but not just anyone’s restroom – and he was panicking, breathing rapidly, sweating, wondering how he got here, how he will get out and whether he’d have a heart attack first.

(Click the photo to meet Landgon and relive his experience)

Langdon, 50 and as old as his favorite baseball team, was supposed to be meeting friends at the game. Instead, he was standing in front of a sink, staring himself down in the mirror and shaking off ideas as if they were pitches he didn’t want to throw.

He needed to come clean about this case of mistaken identity. He couldn’t hide out for nine innings in the restroom of Angels’ owner Arte Moreno.

“Are you okay?” the affable Moreno asked Langdon, having emerged from his self-imposed exile.

“Mr. Moreno,” Langdon confessed, “I don’t think I should be here.”

Putting his calming hand of Langdon’s shoulder, Moreno told his unexpected guest, “First, my friends called me, Arte,” and then offered Langdon a beer.

“Arte,” Langdon politely repeated, “I really, really shouldn’t be here.”

Really.

GET A TICKET

Langdon’s buddy, Brad Stanfield, a Fullerton mentor with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, had invited him to share a donated suite for that night’s 6:05 p.m. game against the Yankees.

“I’ll leave the ticket at Will Call under your name,” Stanfield told Langdon.

When he arrived at the ballpark late after taking his daughter’s prom pictures, Langdon slipped his driver’s license to the woman at the Angels ticket window and received an envelope containing not one but two tickets.

“They were printed with ‘OWNERS SUITE’ and I figured, ‘Wow, Brad has some friends in high places,’” recalled Langdon, who moved through the turnstiles and was directed through the velvet ropes to a private elevator.

The metal doors opened on the second floor, where he crossed the hallway, greeted an usher and walked through the double mahogany doors into the Owner’s Suite.

“The room was the size of a condominium and nicely decorated,” recalled Langdon, who noticed a large flatscreen TV mounted on one wall, a full kitchen, a bar stocked with El Modelo and pretzels, plush carpeting, luxury seating, an elevated view from behind the plate and nobody he knew.

The three people inside turned to him. A suite attendant named Cheryl smiled. Bill Beverage, the Angels’ Chief Financial Officer, smiled. Moreno smiled, approached, offered a handshake and introduced himself.

“Yes sir, I know who you are,” said an honored Langdon, feeling his mouth go dry. “I’m Mike Langdon.”

“You must be Mark’s friend,” Moreno said.

Mark’s friend? Mark who? Figuring Stanfield knew a Mark, the overwhelmed Langdon nodded agreeably.

“Make yourself at home,” the hospitable Moreno said. “Game’s just getting going.”

Anxiously awaiting his friend’s arrival, Langdon surreptitiously nibbled on crackers and chips and downed a beer – “The first one went down in like half an inning,” he said – to ease his nerves.

Langdon began to suspect a major-league mixup.

He excused himself to poke his head in a smaller neighboring suite only to find Tony Reagins, the Angels’ general manager, inside and in the company of three men in suits.

“Excuse me for the interruption,” chirped Langdon before quickly disappearing and seeking refuge in the restroom.

By then, Moreno had put it all together: Mike Langdon, the Flowserve Industries pump salesman in his bathroom, had mistakenly been given the tickets intended for Mark Langston, the four-time All-Star and seven-time Gold Glove-winning pitcher who played for the Angels from 1990 to 1997.

IT’S LANGDON, NOT LANGSTON

“Where are you?” asked Stanfield, calling Langdon on his cell phone in the second inning.

“I’m in Arte Moreno’s suite,” Langdon said proudly, having been invited to stay by the owner himself. “He wants to talk to you.”

Moreno hopped on the phone and invited Stanfield, who was in a left-field suite, to join them in the owner’s box.

“Is Mark Langston there?” Moreno asked.

Mark Langston? “No, but I’ll be right over,” said Stanfield, who got a security escort to Moreno’s suite.

Stanfield made quick friends with Beverage, a fellow University of Alabama graduate. Meanwhile, Langdon and Moreno got to know each other.

“I couldn’t believe how kind, generous and friendly he is,” said Langdon. “He’s the Angels owner and he’s just like any fan. He has an everyman quality and actually thanked me after I thanked him for the time.”

For three innings, they were just two guys at a ballgame. Langdon spoke of his favorite Angels and Moreno shared how much he enjoyed watching Bobby Abreu. Langdon talked of serving in the Navy; Moreno, of serving in the Army’s 1st Calvalry Division in the Vietnam War.

They discussed their families: Langdon’s daughter going to prom that night, and Moreno’s wife, Carole, picking up their daughter who had just graduated from the University of North Carolina.

Langdon showed Moreno the Section 109, Row X seats he had until this past season when his family diverted the baseball funds into college tuition.

“In all those years,” Langdon told him, “I never caught a foul ball.”

Moreno motioned for Cheryl’s attention. A minute later, she returned with a commemorative Angels 50th anniversary baseball, which Langdon asked the owner to autograph. Langdon also took a photograph with Moreno.

Around the third inning, about an hour into the game, former Angel Langston and his wife arrived, apologizing for his tardiness. “I thought it was a 7 o’clock game,” said Langston, unaware of Langdon’s misadventure.

Around the seventh inning, former Angels All-Star left-hander Clyde Wright, who pitched the first no-hitter in Angel Stadium on July 3, 1970 against Oakland, stopped in for a visit.

“I couldn’t believe it was happening when it was happening,” recalled Langdon. “But wait, it gets better.”

Wright stirred in his seat when he heard the elevator chime and the doors open. He grumbled, feigning disgust, “This guy always comes around here for every Yankees game.”

In walked Hall of Fame slugger Reggie Jackson, a 14-time All-Star with the Athletics, Yankees and Angels. Jackson, while playing for the Athletics, nearly spoiled that Wright no-hitter with a 400-foot blast that Jay Johnstone snagged on the warning track 41 years ago.

Wright and Jackson ribbed each other for a few minutes before Jackson turned to star-struck-out Langdon and said, “Hi, I’m Reggie Jackson,” extending his hand in introduction.

Langdon thought: I’m sitting in the Owner’s Suite for the Yankees-Angels game! And drinking his second El Modelo beside Arte Moreno! And watching baseball with Mark Langston and Clyde Wright! And listening to Reggie Jackson introduce himself as Reggie Jackson!

Even Langdon’s thoughts carried exclamation marks.

Except one, which ended with a question mark: Can you believe it?

— Reporting from Anaheim

Contact the writer: masmith@ocregister.com