Many years ago my old man, Papa Rem, was the publicity director for the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, and was good friends with Eugene Ormandy and his successor Dmitri Metropolous (I think that's how you spell his name). He also knew many of the players, including a bass player who told him this story.
After the first movement, the bass players sit and stare at their instruments until the finale of the Beethoven's Fifth. So Harold and the other two bass players decided one night to slip out for a drink during this extended hiatus. One drink led to another to another, etc., until the second chair began to get worried. "We've gotta be back in time for the finale," he warned his two companions.
"Not to worry, I've got it down to the second. And even if we are a bit late I tied up Ormandy's sheet music with a piece of tough twine. By the time he gets it untangled we'll be back in our seats ready to play."
Yep, you guessed it. It was the end of the fifth, the bases were loaded, and the score was tied.
