I gave up baseball in the fifth grade. I don't remember all my reasons (I'm sure my motives were complicated) but I know it had something to do with (a.) my fear of hard, spherical objects being hurled at me by wild-armed eleven-year-olds and (b.) the fact that baseball is boring. Very boring. Standing out there in right field*, I wanted little more than to take my glove of, lie down, and take a nap.
All that's to say that I'm not Denver's biggest Rockies fan. True, I had a mild case of "Rockies Fever"--just like all the other fair weather fans in Denver last fall (sorry for the mixed metaphor). But that passed fairly quickly (about half way through game three of the World Series). It's also true that we've gone to a few games--but that was primarily about (a.) the food and (b.) the culture up in the cheap ($4) seats. In addition to being mooned several times one pleasant evening last spring, we also got to listen in on some "interesting" conversations. My personal favorite was the twenty-something sitting ahead of us--a guywe'd seen spend at least fifty bucks on Coors Light--attemptinig to pick up a girl by giving her several innings worth of free financial advice. I think that's called irony.
Well, pal Pico (actually pal Pico's wife) had an extra ticket Tuesday night--so I went along. By most counts, they were great seats. Okay, they were phenomenal seats. Not only was the food as good as ever, we were also seated three rows behind the home dug out, meaning that we could hear Clint Hurdle yell at the umps and see Matt Holiday's glistening dome, and yes, the streaker in the 7th inning (Hey, I'm just reporting the facts.)
*Okay, reason (c.) I wasn't good at baseball. Everyone knows the worst players get stuck in right field, except when lefties are up to bat...
**Yes, this post means no baby news. We'll let you know.
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