Well, you know, the general Rockies-related news recently has not been that inspiring, to say the least, as they fell on their face and lost 3 of 4 to the Pirates. Yet again, they've put their own backs against the wall and need some kind of miracle run to get back into contention -- with the D-backs appearing to have a stranglehold on the division, it looks as if the only way the Rockies will taste that playoff savor is if they somehow make a sustained push for the wild card and leapfrog all the teams logjammed ahead of them. As I have noted previously, I am not sure that this will happen, but I'd settle for a winning season at this point. Still, all I wanted for my birthday was for them to win, especially since I had been planning to attend a game on this day ever since the beginning of the summer, when I discovered Gillian's friend's father could aid us in getting prime free tickets. (The last time we used them was on May 30 against the Cardinals, but we've had this game on the schedule since I came home from school. In other words, high expectations).
Well, for starters, yesterday was my 19th birthday and I had an excellent time. Got a day off from work, got to sleep in, then got up and enjoyed a nice morning. I was briefly shanghaied into being used as brute labor by my mother, who had to haul a load of books to the middle school (and just stepping into that building made me unspeakably grateful that I am a college student). Then I picked up my sister, and we headed down the hill to spend an hour or so at the Colorado Mills mall, where we lustfully eyed assorted Rockies paraphernalia in the hundred or so sports stores (no, we don't have a problem at all). We ate pretzels, wandered into accessories stores, bickered like, well, siblings (but all in good fun) and then departed for Coors Field. Upon arrival, we headed straight to the Diamond Dry Goods store, where I was given $100 ($80 from parents/sister and $20 from aunt/uncle) to pick out my birthday presents. I ended up picking out a light jacket, a blanket, an autographed baseball (well, not real, but it has copies of the whole team's signatures on it, and Gillian and I spent quite a while trying to decipher who was who) and a pennant; I now have so much Rockies stuff, which will be posted in my dorm room, that it's rather ridiculous. Someone will walk in and go, "Uh... you don't like the Rockies, by any chance?" I'll go, "No, really, how'd you guess? What tipped you off -- the two pennants, the flag, the stickers, the posters, the tickets, the photos, the blanket, the ball, the cap, the jersey, the shirts -- " At which point they will tune out and contemplate how sane, exactly, I am to be rooting for this team, which is something I myself indulge in on occasion. I am looking forward so much to getting back to NY and having my own space, filled with all my stuff, mementos of things I love and an awesome summer. :)
Still, after the shopping was concluded, Gillian and I headed to the sidelines along the first-base side. We had theorized that the combination of a) the Nationals b) the Rockies sliding recently, and c) a weekday night would lead to rather less autograph-seekers than there usually are, in which we were correct. We were hanging out, still trying to work out who was who on the ball, when guess who? -- Jason Hirsh showed up. I was very surprised to see him, as he's still on the DL, and hadn't expected him to be kabitzing around Coors on such a pretty late-August evening. Sure enough, however, there he was in the flesh; you know that he's one of my favorites and I was planning to ask him to sign my ticket "Happy Birthday." When he actually got to us, I chickened out and handed it to Gillian to ask him instead; she did, he did just that and wished me happy birthday, I asked him how it was going, he said it was good, and I stood there grinning like an idiot as he moved on down the line, patiently answering questions about when he's going to get off the DL (for the record, Jason thinks it'll be a few weeks). Then Jamey Carroll, the other frequent signer, showed up (and I swear he has to know us, or at least recognize us, by now, with all the time we spend down there). He also wished me a happy birthday, and by this point we didn't have much time left before the game. We watched the usual suspects come out and warm up, a routine that is always amusing because a) Tulo runs like a pigeon, and b) Atkins has his own personal stretcher guy who maneuvers him into various uncomfortable-looking positions while Gillian and I snigger. And assorted sundry other amusements, but we got back to our seats (sixteen rows back, Section 132) with plenty of time.
It is worth noting that the "amusements" included the fact that it was "80's Night," and all the Rockies' scoreboard mugshots had been doctored to alter their appearance to the best (worst?) of the eighties. I fortunately managed to get photos of most of them (up later) but they were, shall we say, most amusing. Some of the highlights included: Tulo sporting a sweatband and a 'fro paired with a poofy orange bomber jacket, Atkins transformed into a unibrowed monstrosity adorned with a sunflower, Holliday turned into a truly revolting used-car-salesman type with a combover and a porno-stache, Hawpe given flowing brown dreadlocks and a sleeveless top, and Helton rocking the big hair with a penguin suit. (Stewart had a mullet and a golden jumpsuit, while Spilly had long shaggy bangs. Extremely amusing). Also, it is a discovery of some interest that Jeff Francis somewhat resembles Atkins while wearing what appears to be an orange toilet plunger on his head -- what this intimates for either party concerned, I shall refrain from speculating. Still, most funny, and I'll post the photos in a subsequent entry.
The game got underway, Jeff Francis (in the first inning at least) seemed determined to suck, and after Tulo helpfully chipped in an RBI single in the bottom half of said inning, the offense went AWOL. They left runners on third with one out two innings in a row, but Francis managed to limit the damage and keep the Rox in striking distance, trailing 2-1, until for some inexplicable (cough, Clint Hurdle, cough) reason, he was sent out to start the seventh, having already amassed 109 pitches and never really having gotten into a groove all night. Well, Hurdle learned in June that it is a Bad Idea to pull Francis early, so now he just leaves him out there too long. Predictably, Francis went nuclear, helped out with some shaky defense, and after a failed force play at second left the bases loaded for Ryan Zimmerman, who is quite scary for being a National, and who had hit the homer that made it 2-1. That was all for Francis, as Taylor Buchholz (5-1/2.31 as a reliever before last night) was summoned from the pen. He promptly yielded a 2-run single to the pestilential Zimmerman to push the Nats' advantage to 4-1, and by the time the bottom of the ninth hit, Buchholz had also given up a solo homer to Wily Mo Pena(Wily Mo Pena?) to stretch it to 5-1. Thus started the ninth with Chad Cordero summoned out of the 'pen to face Tulowitzki, Holliday, and Helton, and while this is the meat of the order, I felt little hope. I could not believe that they were actually going to lose on my birthday, the bums. But I put on my rally cap and hoped for the best.
It started off well. On Cordero's first pitch, Tulo laced a single into right field. On Cordero's second pitch, Holliday took him downtown to the Rockies' pen for a two-run blast to shave the deficit to 5-3. I began to ramp up the yelling intensity, just since I had had no excuse to do so all game. In this case, however, it wasn't over. Helton shot one deep into the hole, Jimenez overthrew, and he was safe at first. The stadium was on its feet, cheering, yelling, clapping, really getting into it, and it was great to feel that spark of shared energy and excitement.
Still not over. Atkins belted one into the left field corner that rolled to the wall for a double. Coors was yelling itself berserk, joined in heartily by Gillian and myself; we were screaming, whooping, jumping out of our seats, practically on the edge of them on the rare occasions that we sat down. Brad Hawpe worked a walk and that was enough for Manny Acta; he came to retrieve Cordero and summoned Jon Rauch instead. Yorvit Torrealba was up, the whole stadium was behind him, and Yorvit rewarded them for their loyalty by snapping a two-run single into right-center. With Coors going apeshit, Cory Sullivan bunted the runners over into scoring position for only the first out, and Spilborghs came up. Right about this point, Gillian and I were going hoarse with all the screaming we were doing, fervently and madly rooting on whichever current hero in the purple pinstripes was up there. All previous dislikes or biases put aside, we loved them all, and the fact that Spilly eventually grounded out did not deter us. There were still only two outs, after all.
Then Kaz came up; he had a single and a triple already in the game and we were going berserk (along with everyone else who had stuck it out). Kaz hit a ground ball to short, Jimenez couldn't come up with it, and there wasn't even a throw to first as Hawpe crossed the plate with the winning run and everybody jumped up and down, thumped each other on the back, and whooped it up. It was an amazing finish, I was completely euphoric, and I woke up this morning with a sore throat from all the yelling and still feeling that kind of dizzy, drunken happiness (but no actual alcohol involved, thank you very much) that settles in you and makes you grin. And as you know, I really needed that due to how down and unhappy I've been recently. As a matter of fact, I had to wake up at 6 am for work, which really did suck, but it was okay. The fact that I have a killer blister and a sore foot that makes it rather difficult to walk dampened my ardor only slightly, and what I really need to do now is start packing (including all the Rockies stuff I've somehow accumulated over the summer... no idea how that happened...) in preparation for my relocation back to NY and the start of my sophomore year. I really am looking forward to getting back to my other life, but after being in "home: Colorado" mode for four or so months, it'll just be odd (at first) to switch back to "school: New York" mode. It's transferring everything, after all.
But it will be fun. Very, very fun. My summer (mainly thanks to the Rox) has been pretty kick-ass. Now it's time to start up the New York segment of things. Which means I should get started on the packing (I have several boxes I need to ship, since the fact that I am going out alone and relying on the bus/train to get me back to school means that I am limited to bringing on the airplane only what I can schlep up the hill to SLC. Ah well). And my birthday party isn't really even over yet, since I get dinner, cake, and a few extra presents tomorrow night (Sunday being the only day we could all get off). Hooray.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Exhausting Updates
Sorry for the interminable hiatus, and in case you're wondering, I didn't suddenly become exempt from the earth's gravitational pull and take a spectacular plunge into space. However, I have been working full-time, and my time in the evening has been used to write my baseball novel, Elysian Fields, or talk to my friends on Instant Messaging, both pursuits which leave little time for bloggery. But since the novel is finished (and I do like it, if I say so myself) I now have time to issue periodic updates upon the state of affairs in Baseball-land. Not that I always want to, as the Rockies repay all my love and devotion by doing things like losing 3 of 4 to the Nationals and getting shut out for 20 innings by one of the worst pitching staffs in the game. At the time of this writing, they have miraculously managed to score a grand total of two runs, but are still trailing 5-2 to the Padres in the opening game of --
Okay, scratch that. Matty Effin' Holliday just cracked his 17th homer of the year to tie the game in the bottom of the eighth, a three-run blast off Scott Linebrink to bring it even at 5-5. This is more runs than the Rockies have scored in three games (cough cough) and it is good to see that they are not meekly trotting off and letting San Diego --
Hahaha, wow. Brandon (Brad Hawpe) with his 18th homer of the year, bumping Colorado ahead 7-5. He couldn't bear to let Holliday have the team homer lead, even for a few minutes. Manny Corpas gets a strikeout, gives up a single, then a forceout, goes 3-0 on Brian Giles, and then makes him look at three straight to end the game. The Rockies pull out a highly improbable win against the Pads in the opening game of the series, a seven-game homestand against chief competitors San Diego and Los Angeles -- a homestand that will prove once and for all if they should harbor playoff ambitions this year, or just be content with finishing over .500. It would be nice not to suck for once, so I think for now I'll be content with that, but if they should put together a Hollywood-schmaltz run and somehow manage to, you know, contend, I won't complain.
Perhaps it is a symbiotic link -- I revive the temporarily defunct blogging, the Rockies score as many runs in one game as they did in ALL of the Washington series (grrr). For the sake of my beloveds, I shall attempt to do so more often, at least until I start a new novel and the sticky m key stops driving me crazy. Ah well.
ANYWAY. As I have said, I have been very busy, and hope to make more time in the future. That said, I have several exciting things to report from the front lines of reality, a puzzling phenomenon that still soaks up far more of my time than I would otherwise appreciate. I'm still working at Starbucks, which is not a bad job but is not, well, baseball -- ah well, I just have to keep myself busy by thinking about it, which is something I do most of the time anyway. Aside from spending too much money and looking forward to getting back to school in September, I am also planning to rendezvous this Saturday, July 28, with a crowd of friends at the Rockies/Dodgers game. It's going to be fun -- me, my sister, and my friends Betsy and A.J. are going to meet up with three other posters from Purple Row, and we have seats seven rows back of the right-field wall, close to Hawpe and definitely not out of the realm of homer-catching possibility. It will have been exactly three weeks since I've been to a game (my last was July 7 against Philly) and it feels like forever. I have a problem. I also (finally!) got a digital camera, so I shall record the insanity that is sure to become contagious when seven die-hard Rox fans get together (seven fans, seven rows back, yeah, yeah, it's a coincidence) and cheer for their team against the Bastards in Blue, more properly euphemized as the Los Angeles Dodgers. No more waiting to develop film and save photos off a CD; it's nice to have and with a memory card I ended up getting for free, it's good for 200 photos.
Also, I am planning two exciting baseball trips for next year. Betsy and I are scheming for her to drive out to New York to pick me up when school ends in May, then have the two of us hit up Yankee Stadium, Shea Stadium, and Cooperstown, probably in something of that order, depending on how the 2008 schedule works out. (We need that now to plan this all, grr). We would then drive back to Colorado from New York, possibly stopping in St. Louis and/or assorted other baseball cities on the way home. If things align accordingly, my friend Justin may fly out from San Diego to join us, which would also be awesome -- three hardcore baseball fans road-tripping it across the country, me fresh off my sophomore year in college and preparing to go abroad to Oxford in the fall. If all the stars line up, 2008 could be the best year of my life to date, which isn't saying much when you're only 19, but hey, it's good to be excited and to have plans.
When I get back home to Colorado, my sister will have graduated from high school, and we're planning a road-trip to California to celebrate. We'll drive to either San Diego or Los Angeles and then up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco, obviously catching a game at every locale possible. If we get REALLY lucky, the Rockies will be making a West Coast swing (why isn't that
'08 schedule out yet??) and we can cheer them on in enemy turf. (Hey, if I can laugh off Shea bleacher creatures, I can take whatever venom the Blue Crew and Laptop Yuppies can dish).
I'm happy. I'm in a good place in my life right now. I have a decent job that's making money to fuel all my planned baseball/educational exploits, I'm enjoying a summer with a baseball team that I love, I have a lot of friends (for the first time in my life) and yet I'm really looking forward to getting back to school this fall. I have a single room (hurray!) which means that I can bedeck it out with tokens of my fanaticism and not have to deal with roommates. I'm looking forward to resuming my studies, want to get back to my happy places in Bronxville, and have planned out which classes I want to take. Some friends and I are planning to hit up Yankees and Mets games in September to make up for the lack of Rockies games, and I really feel as if I'm moving forward with my life at a good speed and I'm where I should be. I am a healthy, well-adjusted person (I really am, despite the conversations that Betsy and I have occasionally, all of which involving me laughing my ass off while squirming and wishing I had never seen some of it. No, I won't tell you the details).
So, if I fail to update regularly (and I'll do my best, given the magic mojo it brought my boys) it's not because I'm dead. It's just because I'm busy.
P.S. Chris Carpenter's one-start season officially came to an end a few days ago when it was announced he'll need Tommy John (not a great surprise, sadly) and will miss the rest of 2007 and part of 2008 as well. That five-year, $65-million contract is looking like less of a bargain and more of an albatross, but you can't plan for injuries and stuff like this is just part of the game. In conclusion, I suck at predicting things.
Okay, scratch that. Matty Effin' Holliday just cracked his 17th homer of the year to tie the game in the bottom of the eighth, a three-run blast off Scott Linebrink to bring it even at 5-5. This is more runs than the Rockies have scored in three games (cough cough) and it is good to see that they are not meekly trotting off and letting San Diego --
Hahaha, wow. Brandon (Brad Hawpe) with his 18th homer of the year, bumping Colorado ahead 7-5. He couldn't bear to let Holliday have the team homer lead, even for a few minutes. Manny Corpas gets a strikeout, gives up a single, then a forceout, goes 3-0 on Brian Giles, and then makes him look at three straight to end the game. The Rockies pull out a highly improbable win against the Pads in the opening game of the series, a seven-game homestand against chief competitors San Diego and Los Angeles -- a homestand that will prove once and for all if they should harbor playoff ambitions this year, or just be content with finishing over .500. It would be nice not to suck for once, so I think for now I'll be content with that, but if they should put together a Hollywood-schmaltz run and somehow manage to, you know, contend, I won't complain.
Perhaps it is a symbiotic link -- I revive the temporarily defunct blogging, the Rockies score as many runs in one game as they did in ALL of the Washington series (grrr). For the sake of my beloveds, I shall attempt to do so more often, at least until I start a new novel and the sticky m key stops driving me crazy. Ah well.
ANYWAY. As I have said, I have been very busy, and hope to make more time in the future. That said, I have several exciting things to report from the front lines of reality, a puzzling phenomenon that still soaks up far more of my time than I would otherwise appreciate. I'm still working at Starbucks, which is not a bad job but is not, well, baseball -- ah well, I just have to keep myself busy by thinking about it, which is something I do most of the time anyway. Aside from spending too much money and looking forward to getting back to school in September, I am also planning to rendezvous this Saturday, July 28, with a crowd of friends at the Rockies/Dodgers game. It's going to be fun -- me, my sister, and my friends Betsy and A.J. are going to meet up with three other posters from Purple Row, and we have seats seven rows back of the right-field wall, close to Hawpe and definitely not out of the realm of homer-catching possibility. It will have been exactly three weeks since I've been to a game (my last was July 7 against Philly) and it feels like forever. I have a problem. I also (finally!) got a digital camera, so I shall record the insanity that is sure to become contagious when seven die-hard Rox fans get together (seven fans, seven rows back, yeah, yeah, it's a coincidence) and cheer for their team against the Bastards in Blue, more properly euphemized as the Los Angeles Dodgers. No more waiting to develop film and save photos off a CD; it's nice to have and with a memory card I ended up getting for free, it's good for 200 photos.
Also, I am planning two exciting baseball trips for next year. Betsy and I are scheming for her to drive out to New York to pick me up when school ends in May, then have the two of us hit up Yankee Stadium, Shea Stadium, and Cooperstown, probably in something of that order, depending on how the 2008 schedule works out. (We need that now to plan this all, grr). We would then drive back to Colorado from New York, possibly stopping in St. Louis and/or assorted other baseball cities on the way home. If things align accordingly, my friend Justin may fly out from San Diego to join us, which would also be awesome -- three hardcore baseball fans road-tripping it across the country, me fresh off my sophomore year in college and preparing to go abroad to Oxford in the fall. If all the stars line up, 2008 could be the best year of my life to date, which isn't saying much when you're only 19, but hey, it's good to be excited and to have plans.
When I get back home to Colorado, my sister will have graduated from high school, and we're planning a road-trip to California to celebrate. We'll drive to either San Diego or Los Angeles and then up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco, obviously catching a game at every locale possible. If we get REALLY lucky, the Rockies will be making a West Coast swing (why isn't that
'08 schedule out yet??) and we can cheer them on in enemy turf. (Hey, if I can laugh off Shea bleacher creatures, I can take whatever venom the Blue Crew and Laptop Yuppies can dish).
I'm happy. I'm in a good place in my life right now. I have a decent job that's making money to fuel all my planned baseball/educational exploits, I'm enjoying a summer with a baseball team that I love, I have a lot of friends (for the first time in my life) and yet I'm really looking forward to getting back to school this fall. I have a single room (hurray!) which means that I can bedeck it out with tokens of my fanaticism and not have to deal with roommates. I'm looking forward to resuming my studies, want to get back to my happy places in Bronxville, and have planned out which classes I want to take. Some friends and I are planning to hit up Yankees and Mets games in September to make up for the lack of Rockies games, and I really feel as if I'm moving forward with my life at a good speed and I'm where I should be. I am a healthy, well-adjusted person (I really am, despite the conversations that Betsy and I have occasionally, all of which involving me laughing my ass off while squirming and wishing I had never seen some of it. No, I won't tell you the details).
So, if I fail to update regularly (and I'll do my best, given the magic mojo it brought my boys) it's not because I'm dead. It's just because I'm busy.
P.S. Chris Carpenter's one-start season officially came to an end a few days ago when it was announced he'll need Tommy John (not a great surprise, sadly) and will miss the rest of 2007 and part of 2008 as well. That five-year, $65-million contract is looking like less of a bargain and more of an albatross, but you can't plan for injuries and stuff like this is just part of the game. In conclusion, I suck at predicting things.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Photo Day!
Yes, I finally got my lazy rear in gear and uploaded the pics from our splendiferous wonderful time at Photo Day. I know the blog hasn't been very fastidiously updated these days, but I still try to get a post at least every other day. This has something to do with starting my new job and the fact that I'm working 36 hours a week (I asked for Wednesdays off/early so we can go to Ladies' Night games at Coors, heh). In the meantime, enjoy. (Some of these pics aren't from Photo Day, so I'll label those. Also, please ignore my hair; it's not usually that frizzy and although I bear a striking resemblance to a psychotic witch, that is not really the case. I blame the hat).
This is Gillian and I at our first game of the year together -- May 16 vs. the Diamondbacks. Seeing as I got home on May 11, you can tell that I could NOT wait to get back to Coors. Also, despite appearing pregnant in this picture for some aggravating reason, I am not. I'm not even fat. Oy, I'm such a pick about how I appear in pictures, so I apologize for the running commentary.
This is Gillian and Chris Iannetta from that same day. Check out those blue eyes; they actually look like they're related.
This is Gillian and I at our first game of the year together -- May 16 vs. the Diamondbacks. Seeing as I got home on May 11, you can tell that I could NOT wait to get back to Coors. Also, despite appearing pregnant in this picture for some aggravating reason, I am not. I'm not even fat. Oy, I'm such a pick about how I appear in pictures, so I apologize for the running commentary.
This is Gillian and Chris Iannetta from that same day. Check out those blue eyes; they actually look like they're related.
Me and my new boyf -- I mean, Jason Hirsh, also from the May 16 game. This was right after he flung his arm around my waist, began grinning like a cheese, and temporarily put my brain circuits out of commission. Love the boy.
OKAY! Here's Photo Day.
Here's a shot to show you where we were -- i.e. right on the field. Ignore the fat woman, she's no one I know. If that is you, I apologize.
Me and my boy, Brad! Yay! Again, please ignore how psychotic I look, and trust me, Brad did put his arm around me by choice. He actually didn't run away screaming.
Gillian and Brad. Yet again, they look alike, this time by dint of matching sunglasses.
Gillian, Spilly, Garrett, and Darcy. I accidentally cut Darcy's head a bit out of this picture, but yeah, Spilly decided to mug for the camera right as I took the shot. What a ham.
Gillian can die happy now. This is her and Matt Holliday, and yes, she's deeply in love with him.
I'm not, but I do like him, and I got a picture too.
This is Darcy and Iannetta again. You have no idea how much convincing it took to get her to do a picture alone.
Me and Tulo, the Thrice-Introduced.
Gillian and Tulo.
Gillian and my boyf -- Jason. Check out the shit-eating grins on both of them.
Me, Bucky (Taylor Buchholz) and Gillian. I think this is a cute pic, actually.
Okay, the best for last. I LOVE THIS PICTURE. Me, Darcy, Gillian, and Todd giving us a big ol' bear hug. Warm fuzzy memories forever.
That's it for the photos. I'm going to go write now. I wrote a baseball-themed short story called Elysian Fields for my second-semester writing project, and now I'm redoing it as a novel. I swear, the other day, I realized that I think about baseball pretty much 24/7, and I woke up early and spent a while contemplating the philosophy of the game and why it has so much effect on me. God, do I ever need a real life.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
The Best Day of 2007
.... is Saturday, June 2. I'm not even kidding. If there's going to be another contender for the best night of this year, they're going to have to put up a damn impressive show to come close to touching the awesomeness that unfolded tonight. I'm sitting up at 12:43 AM, pretty tired and completely happy, writing this down since I want to get down every detail before I forget anything. My two sisters and I went to Photo Day/the Rockies game today, and what can I say, it was absolutely marvelous. I could have asked for absolutely nothing more, and it's left me with that kind of happiness that sinks into your bones and rests like a glowing marble in your chest and makes you happy when you even start thinking about it. If I ever am at a loss for happy thoughts during my continuing job training next week, I know what will do the trick. So here's the blow-by-blow, and I am determined to spare no detail, since I want to remember them all for myself. Very long, but what hey, I want it all down for posterity.
The Photos/The Guys
My older sister just got home from college yesterday, and as an early birthday present, we gave her an Atkins shirt and a ticket to accompany us (me and my younger sister) to Photo Day. So my older sister, Darcy, and I left home around 2:20 in the afternoon, decked out in Rockies gear (Atkins shirt and Rockies hat for her; Hawpe shirt, purple and black jersey, logo necklace, and signed hat for me. Yes, I take my baseball seriously). Then we drove down to pick up my younger sister, Gillian, from work, and headed down to Coors Field from there. The traffic on the normally congested I-25 connector was actually moving, which was only the first herald of all the greatness to come. We got down to the field so early that the signs for parking weren't even up, so we parked in our usual spot and saved five or ten bucks on it. (Gillian was worried that we were going to get ticketed or towed or something, but of course not. The day was destined to be perfect, so it didn't happen). We wandered up toward the stadium, picked up our tickets from Will Call, and went to Gate C, where they were just starting to let people in. Gillian and I were anxious to get going, so we dragged Darcy down and stepped onto an actual major league field. Yes, for Photo Day, they actually let you head onto the field and walk around the warning track. If I had a religious experience when I walked into Shea, then standing on the dirt of Coors Field itself damn near blew my circuits. I just walked around, looking up at the wall, as Gillian steered us to one of the numbered stations for photos. (As it turned out, this didn't matter, as the guys just made their way down the line). But we stood there in the sun, excited, three girls in Rockies gear who love their team, waiting for their boys to come out, and in due time, they did.
It was just cool to see the guys in white come out of the dugout and start spreading across the field toward the line of fans on the warning track. I was so busy tracking who was going where (Gillian wanted Holliday, Darcy wanted Atkins, they debuted a little to our right) that I almost didn't see who was walking straight toward us. Right: Carroll, well we know that guy, but not high on our list for pics. Center: Baker, oh cool, we remember him, maybe he remembers us. And on the left: OH. My God. Brad Hawpe is walking toward me. Do not do something stupid. Have to admit, I got a little weak-kneed there for a second. But I recovered.
Brad took a picture with the girl next to us, before he reached us and smiled. "Hey guys, how are you?" he said, and naturally, since Hawpe is my boy and I was wearing his shirt (albeit underneath my jersey) I got to go first. There was only one moment all day in which I was not thinking, and that was when Brad Hawpe and I had our arms around each other, grinning into the sunlight of a perfect day as Gillian snapped the picture. Then she got to go with him, and our brilliant time was officially begun. Jeff Baker, who was there as well, remembered us from Thursday, where we talked to him and got his autograph. "Hey!" he said enthusiastically. So we introduced ourselves to him, and he introduced himself as well, as if we didn't know. "You guys live in Denver?" he said. "No, Evergreen," we said. "About how far?" he asked. "Forty minutes or so," we said. He was terrifically nice, hung out for a little bit and chatted before moving on, and generally made us very happy that he'd remembered us, but the good times were coming fast and we had to keep up with 'em.
Right at that moment, Garrett Atkins (who is really a big guy... I think I knew that) came up to us, and I said, "Hey, Garrett, I don't know if you remember me, but I was the one Rockies fan in Shea Stadium." He grinned a little bit and went, "Yeah, I remember." Since I already have a picture with him, I got Darcy (who has a fairly sizeable crush on him and refused to go with him alone) and Gillian (who agreed to do it with her to ameliorate her nervousness) to pose with him. Just as I was taking the picture, Ryan Spilborghs grabbed Garrett by the shoulder and popped his head up in the frame, grinning like a cheese, so we got two for the price of one. I smiled at him (I think he remembered us too) and said, "You starting tonight, Spilly?" "Naw, I'm sitting," he answered. "You three are all Rockied out!" This was a reference to our gear, which had garnered a number of comments. (Later, someone remarked, "I'll take your pic... I think you guys really like the Rockies." My answer: "Yeah, just a bit.")
The two of them meandered on and just then, Gillian's absolute favorite ballplayer, Matt Holliday himself, arrived on the scene. She was having conniptions that he wouldn't be there because of his flukey little self-inflicted injury. (For the record, there are conflicting reports about how he did it. The Rocky Mountain News says that while trying to bang himself on the head with his helmet, he accidentally sliced himself with the brim of it. Matt takes umbrage with this, says it portrays him as a selfish player, and insists that it was an accident of braining himself on a ceiling when jumping off a step. Who knows what actually happened). But Matt was smiling and happy and Gillian just about overloaded when she got a picture with him. (I got one with him too).
Jeremy Affeldt and Tom Martin wandered by around this point, and since neither of them are a) starters or b) good, we didn't get a photo with them. (For the record, I think Jeremy was disappointed). But we shook hands with both of them and introduced ourselves, and they asked how we were doing and we said that we were really happy to be there. We also talked to Brian Fuentes briefly. Then we peeled off and headed further down the left field line to where Troy Tulowitzki and Chris Iannetta were making their way along. (We saw Hurdle around here, but intentionally skipped him). We got to Iannetta first, where Gillian said to him, "I'm the girl who asked you about The Elegant Universe." (In case I forgot to tell you, on Thursday, she asked him if he'd read it and he smiled and went, "Yeah.") "Yeah, I remember," says Chris with a smile, and then Darcy was actually persuaded to take a picture alone with a player, which is kind of a milestone for her. But she did it all on her own, and since Gillian and I already have pictures with him and have talked to him before, we just introduced ourselves and shook. On a random note, Iannetta has the world's largest hands. I mean, my hands aren't that small, but they were just swallowed up in his grip. Then we got to Tulo, who we were really hoping to track down because he is awesome. So he got to us, and gave us a big grin and went, "Hi!" He's very hyper, energetic, brash, and outgoing, and the funny thing was, we all introduced ourselves and he did the same thing each time. "Hi, I'm Gillian." "Troy!" (Handshake, smile). "I'm Hilary. "Troy!" (Handshake, smile). "And what's your name?" "I'm Darcy." "Troy!" (Handshake, smile). Both Gillian and I got a picture with Tulo, then we decided to head back to right field to get those who were trying to escape from us.
We got there and I got a chance to track down Aaron Cook, which I've been hoping to do since I got back to Denver. "Hey, Aaron, I don't know if you remember, but I was the one Rockies fan in Shea," I said. "Hey, yeah, I remember!" he said. "By the tarp, right?" "Yep," I said. "Did I give you a ball?" he asked. "No, you just signed my hat," I said, and showed it to him. "Right on!" he answered. "Who was with you? They were in Mets gear, right?" I was surprised that he remembered that as well, but told him that it was my friend (Mary) and her boyfriend (Steve). "Back in Colorado now, awesome," said Cookie. "Yep," I said. "Well, thanks for coming out and supporting us!" he said. "Oh, no problem," I said, and he meandered on. It was a beautiful day and everyone just seemed completely laid-back and happy, friendly and engaging and easy to talk to. It made me love the Rockies even more than I already do, and while I get frustrated with them so often for not playing up to their potential, they're now my friends as well and that's a terrific element to have. Honestly, I think we talked to almost everyone, even if we didn't get a picture with them, and introduced ourselves and whatnot. But the photos weren't quite done.
Taylor Buchholz came by and Gillian and I got a picture together with him. Then Jason Hirsh came along and remembered Gillian right away when she said she was the sign girl. "And the calendar too!" he added. "So I'm told," said Gillian. "What, you don't have one?" said Hirsh, stunned. "No," she said. "Call the front office!" he suggested. "You tell them you're on the front, they'll probably give you lots." The whole time they were talking, he had his arm up ready to put around her, and then he did. I stepped back to get all of him in the picture -- he's a humongous guy, I tell you, and yes, I am still a bit in love with him. Around this time Holliday came back and said, "Didn't I see y'all over there?" with a laugh. "Yeah, we moved," Gillian said. "How's your head?" He laughed and said, "Great." "You playing tonight?" I asked. "Sure am," he said with another smile. (Baker was also back, and waved at us and grinned. "You starting at third, Bake?" I asked. "Yep!" he said).
We had exactly one shot remaining on our camera, so we decided to spend it by getting all three of us together with Todd Helton. He was laughing and very friendly, just like everyone else, and when he got to us, we told him what we wanted. Todd promptly obliged. "C'mere, guys!" he said, and draped his arms over Gillian and I with Darcy in the middle. We all grinned as a helpful fellow fan snapped our last pic, and then we carefully tucked the camera in our backpack to await development. (We're probably going to have to get double or triple prints, since we'll all want one to take to school). Jamey Carroll showed up a bit later, and when we told him we'd run out of film, he said, "Darn!" We stayed there as long as we wanted, about 45 minutes in all, enjoying some pure baseball heaven -- talking with our boys, standing on the field, in a glorious summer-like afternoon -- until we at last decided that without film and the fact that the guys were heading in, we might as well amuse ourselves in the hour and a half remaining until gametime. So we headed up, got a drink, and headed for the Diamond Dry Goods store, which in itself was another section.
The Store/The Interim
Naturally, when you walk into the place, there's all sorts of Rockies goodness that scream at you, and your pocketbook, to be taken off the shelf and purchased. We ambled around, bickering good-naturedly, comparing prices, and trying to talk each other into buying things. I got a Rockies magazine and two very cool necklaces (the necklaces are silver and black with a little hurricane on them, and they look a bit like Rich Harden's if you've ever seen it. We promptly dubbed them the sweet-ass necklaces since they were so cool -- one was for me and one for Gillian). We argued about whether or not we would buy a new baseball (I actually spent an hour the other day hand-sewing our one remaining ball, which had its stitches coming to pieces, so we could play catch) and/or a pack of baseball cards. (We eventually ended up nixing both of them, as I insisted that I would pay for $20 worth of merchandise and no more. "I have to put my foot down somewhere.") Darcy bought herself a hoody (I need one of those, they're awesome) as a birthday present for herself and we'd barely gotten out of the store before she decided that she needed a sweet-ass necklace to match ours. So we went back in, still arguing about who owed who money, and she found one more hurricane necklace and bought it. Now with matching sweet-ass necklaces, we finally decided to go find our seats.
We'd used our Ladies' Night vouchers to get two free tickets, so we'd only paid for one, Darcy's. We were very pissed that we couldn't sit in our accustomed spot in the right field mezzanine, but we got to Section 332 and stopped complaining, as the seats were third deck, right behind home plate and were just fine; we could see the whole field and there was nothing to bitch about. We dropped our stuff and then climbed up to the very top of Coors, to the very last row, and looked out through the mesh at Denver beyond. I snapped a few pictures on my cell phone of us, the field, and we just stood up there and admired how beautiful it was and how unbelievably happy we all were. We took one picture that I declared I would send to the "Fans of the Game" promotion they always do. I said with certainty that there was no way they couldn't feature it, and for the record, here it is:
Left: Gillian. Center: Me. Right: Darcy.
I took one look at it and said, "We're finally gonna get on the scoreboard." We took some more pictures and then headed off to get dinner -- pretzels, hot dogs, sodas, you know, ballpark food. We hung out on the sunny upper concourse for a little, then wandered back to our seats, too goofily and incredibly happy to care about anything very much. Coors Field is my happy place and I want to be there so much that it feels as if I can never get back soon enough when I leave. We got back to our seats in time to cheer for the Rockies when they announced the starting lineups. I know that I grind the start-Iannetta axe all the time, but in the three games I've attended this year, he's started each of them, so maybe it's something about me? Dunno.
The Game
The game started, Jeff Francis came out of the gate dealing (four perfect innings) and Helton blasted a bomb to dead-center in the bottom of the first to ensure that he was never working from behind. Francis lost the perfect game in the top of the fifth, and had to deal with traffic in the sixth and seventh as well, but he ended up with yet another strong seven-inning showing and only one run allowed. He's really been the "Jeffrey Franchise" that the Rockies expected and needed, and it was fun to watch him pitch tonight. Ken Griffey Jr. and Adam Dunn, the Reds' top homer threats, both looked absolutely silly against him (he had an insane number of swing-throughs tonight; they just couldn't get a bead on that changeup or slider). Manny Corpas' punchout of Griffey in the eighth gave Junior the golden sombrero, and while striking out Dunn isn't that difficult, Francis did it twice for a total of six Ks on the night. The Rockies got their other two runs on a single and stolen base by Kaz Matsui followed by a perfectly placed bloop single from Holliday, and in the bottom of the eighth, Spilborghs (pinch-hitting for Francis; thank God it was him and not Finley) laced a double and scored when Willy Taveras bunted and the Reds reliever threw the ball away. Corpas had a perfect eighth in which he buzzsawed easily through three up, three down, and Fuentes came in for the ninth. Aside from a walk, he was great, and the Rockies ended up winning 4-1.
We were really into the game the whole time, rocking out to the music, cheering for the guys, shouting assorted encouragements or reproaches at them according to what they did, and threatening Baker that he could no longer be our friend after he grounded into three double plays. Each time, Brad Hawpe came up, got to first (two singles and a walk) and got erased. It was just a little frustrating; maybe somebody hexed the third base spot on the Rockies and it isn't Atkins' fault after all. At least when he plays, he only gets himself out.... Love ya, Garrett, but try to pick it up so we don't have to watch Baker do that again, no matter how much we appreciate him for talking to us. We got a little nervous in the sixth after seeing three straight Rockies starters turning into the Hindenburg, but Francis flashed some balls of steel and escaped. And by the way, about our picture? I was right. During the seventh inning stretch, they flashed the Verizon "Fans of the Game" on the scoreboard, and there we were, featured second. We cheered and whooped and high-fived each other.
We danced in our seats and enjoyed the hell out of the game and Gillian and I were happy to see what a great time Darcy had. She's very young for her age (21 next Sunday) and she's very transparent emotionally, so you know if she's happy or not, and she was. We all were. It was a ridiculously good night. The stars were aligned for everything, even moving traffic and free parking, as mentioned. Fuentes ended the game with a groundball to second, and everyone got up and cheered and headed out. It might have been just me, but it seemed as if there was a lot more fans who were actually wearing their Rox gear, so there was plenty of shirts, caps, jackets, etc., on display. It was nice to hear Coors make a lot of noise and get behind their guys, who may or may not always deserve it in terms of their play, but at least they're all terrifically friendly and polite and just great human beings. It made me love them more, and remember why I put up with all their shenanigans.
The only slightly worrisome thing was that Tulo came out of the game in the fifth with tightness in his groin and Carroll took his place. Tulo is an integral component of the team both offensively and defensively, so I really, really hope that it's nothing serious and he'll be back in there tomorrow or the next day. The lineup can't go long without the spark that their rookie shortstop provides, so happy thoughts in Troy's direction. Still giggling about the way he introduced himself three times in a row, as if we might not know.
In conclusion, and as you can see since I've taken so much time to write this all out in excruciating detail, I had a friggin' FANTASTIC time tonight, and if it's not one of the best nights of my life, then it's at least by far the best of 2007 to date. We three deserved a night out to have fun and celebrate the end of the year after all working so hard in school, and oh man, we had a wonderful time. It'll make me happy to think about tonight for a long, long time, and that's not something that happens every day. And our fun-filled weekend isn't even over quite yet -- me and my sisters are going out for a night downtown tomorrow again, attending a 7:30 performance of Wicked. That in itself is going to be great -- I've heard the show's awesome and I'm looking forward to it.
Okay, it's 2:38 in the morning and it's time for me to hit the hay. I've been up so late writing this down because I hope I never forget it. Awesomeness to the tenth power or so, and hey Rockies, you just made my day, month, and possibly year as well. Win tomorrow, bastards. (Some things never change).
The Photos/The Guys
My older sister just got home from college yesterday, and as an early birthday present, we gave her an Atkins shirt and a ticket to accompany us (me and my younger sister) to Photo Day. So my older sister, Darcy, and I left home around 2:20 in the afternoon, decked out in Rockies gear (Atkins shirt and Rockies hat for her; Hawpe shirt, purple and black jersey, logo necklace, and signed hat for me. Yes, I take my baseball seriously). Then we drove down to pick up my younger sister, Gillian, from work, and headed down to Coors Field from there. The traffic on the normally congested I-25 connector was actually moving, which was only the first herald of all the greatness to come. We got down to the field so early that the signs for parking weren't even up, so we parked in our usual spot and saved five or ten bucks on it. (Gillian was worried that we were going to get ticketed or towed or something, but of course not. The day was destined to be perfect, so it didn't happen). We wandered up toward the stadium, picked up our tickets from Will Call, and went to Gate C, where they were just starting to let people in. Gillian and I were anxious to get going, so we dragged Darcy down and stepped onto an actual major league field. Yes, for Photo Day, they actually let you head onto the field and walk around the warning track. If I had a religious experience when I walked into Shea, then standing on the dirt of Coors Field itself damn near blew my circuits. I just walked around, looking up at the wall, as Gillian steered us to one of the numbered stations for photos. (As it turned out, this didn't matter, as the guys just made their way down the line). But we stood there in the sun, excited, three girls in Rockies gear who love their team, waiting for their boys to come out, and in due time, they did.
It was just cool to see the guys in white come out of the dugout and start spreading across the field toward the line of fans on the warning track. I was so busy tracking who was going where (Gillian wanted Holliday, Darcy wanted Atkins, they debuted a little to our right) that I almost didn't see who was walking straight toward us. Right: Carroll, well we know that guy, but not high on our list for pics. Center: Baker, oh cool, we remember him, maybe he remembers us. And on the left: OH. My God. Brad Hawpe is walking toward me. Do not do something stupid. Have to admit, I got a little weak-kneed there for a second. But I recovered.
Brad took a picture with the girl next to us, before he reached us and smiled. "Hey guys, how are you?" he said, and naturally, since Hawpe is my boy and I was wearing his shirt (albeit underneath my jersey) I got to go first. There was only one moment all day in which I was not thinking, and that was when Brad Hawpe and I had our arms around each other, grinning into the sunlight of a perfect day as Gillian snapped the picture. Then she got to go with him, and our brilliant time was officially begun. Jeff Baker, who was there as well, remembered us from Thursday, where we talked to him and got his autograph. "Hey!" he said enthusiastically. So we introduced ourselves to him, and he introduced himself as well, as if we didn't know. "You guys live in Denver?" he said. "No, Evergreen," we said. "About how far?" he asked. "Forty minutes or so," we said. He was terrifically nice, hung out for a little bit and chatted before moving on, and generally made us very happy that he'd remembered us, but the good times were coming fast and we had to keep up with 'em.
Right at that moment, Garrett Atkins (who is really a big guy... I think I knew that) came up to us, and I said, "Hey, Garrett, I don't know if you remember me, but I was the one Rockies fan in Shea Stadium." He grinned a little bit and went, "Yeah, I remember." Since I already have a picture with him, I got Darcy (who has a fairly sizeable crush on him and refused to go with him alone) and Gillian (who agreed to do it with her to ameliorate her nervousness) to pose with him. Just as I was taking the picture, Ryan Spilborghs grabbed Garrett by the shoulder and popped his head up in the frame, grinning like a cheese, so we got two for the price of one. I smiled at him (I think he remembered us too) and said, "You starting tonight, Spilly?" "Naw, I'm sitting," he answered. "You three are all Rockied out!" This was a reference to our gear, which had garnered a number of comments. (Later, someone remarked, "I'll take your pic... I think you guys really like the Rockies." My answer: "Yeah, just a bit.")
The two of them meandered on and just then, Gillian's absolute favorite ballplayer, Matt Holliday himself, arrived on the scene. She was having conniptions that he wouldn't be there because of his flukey little self-inflicted injury. (For the record, there are conflicting reports about how he did it. The Rocky Mountain News says that while trying to bang himself on the head with his helmet, he accidentally sliced himself with the brim of it. Matt takes umbrage with this, says it portrays him as a selfish player, and insists that it was an accident of braining himself on a ceiling when jumping off a step. Who knows what actually happened). But Matt was smiling and happy and Gillian just about overloaded when she got a picture with him. (I got one with him too).
Jeremy Affeldt and Tom Martin wandered by around this point, and since neither of them are a) starters or b) good, we didn't get a photo with them. (For the record, I think Jeremy was disappointed). But we shook hands with both of them and introduced ourselves, and they asked how we were doing and we said that we were really happy to be there. We also talked to Brian Fuentes briefly. Then we peeled off and headed further down the left field line to where Troy Tulowitzki and Chris Iannetta were making their way along. (We saw Hurdle around here, but intentionally skipped him). We got to Iannetta first, where Gillian said to him, "I'm the girl who asked you about The Elegant Universe." (In case I forgot to tell you, on Thursday, she asked him if he'd read it and he smiled and went, "Yeah.") "Yeah, I remember," says Chris with a smile, and then Darcy was actually persuaded to take a picture alone with a player, which is kind of a milestone for her. But she did it all on her own, and since Gillian and I already have pictures with him and have talked to him before, we just introduced ourselves and shook. On a random note, Iannetta has the world's largest hands. I mean, my hands aren't that small, but they were just swallowed up in his grip. Then we got to Tulo, who we were really hoping to track down because he is awesome. So he got to us, and gave us a big grin and went, "Hi!" He's very hyper, energetic, brash, and outgoing, and the funny thing was, we all introduced ourselves and he did the same thing each time. "Hi, I'm Gillian." "Troy!" (Handshake, smile). "I'm Hilary. "Troy!" (Handshake, smile). "And what's your name?" "I'm Darcy." "Troy!" (Handshake, smile). Both Gillian and I got a picture with Tulo, then we decided to head back to right field to get those who were trying to escape from us.
We got there and I got a chance to track down Aaron Cook, which I've been hoping to do since I got back to Denver. "Hey, Aaron, I don't know if you remember, but I was the one Rockies fan in Shea," I said. "Hey, yeah, I remember!" he said. "By the tarp, right?" "Yep," I said. "Did I give you a ball?" he asked. "No, you just signed my hat," I said, and showed it to him. "Right on!" he answered. "Who was with you? They were in Mets gear, right?" I was surprised that he remembered that as well, but told him that it was my friend (Mary) and her boyfriend (Steve). "Back in Colorado now, awesome," said Cookie. "Yep," I said. "Well, thanks for coming out and supporting us!" he said. "Oh, no problem," I said, and he meandered on. It was a beautiful day and everyone just seemed completely laid-back and happy, friendly and engaging and easy to talk to. It made me love the Rockies even more than I already do, and while I get frustrated with them so often for not playing up to their potential, they're now my friends as well and that's a terrific element to have. Honestly, I think we talked to almost everyone, even if we didn't get a picture with them, and introduced ourselves and whatnot. But the photos weren't quite done.
Taylor Buchholz came by and Gillian and I got a picture together with him. Then Jason Hirsh came along and remembered Gillian right away when she said she was the sign girl. "And the calendar too!" he added. "So I'm told," said Gillian. "What, you don't have one?" said Hirsh, stunned. "No," she said. "Call the front office!" he suggested. "You tell them you're on the front, they'll probably give you lots." The whole time they were talking, he had his arm up ready to put around her, and then he did. I stepped back to get all of him in the picture -- he's a humongous guy, I tell you, and yes, I am still a bit in love with him. Around this time Holliday came back and said, "Didn't I see y'all over there?" with a laugh. "Yeah, we moved," Gillian said. "How's your head?" He laughed and said, "Great." "You playing tonight?" I asked. "Sure am," he said with another smile. (Baker was also back, and waved at us and grinned. "You starting at third, Bake?" I asked. "Yep!" he said).
We had exactly one shot remaining on our camera, so we decided to spend it by getting all three of us together with Todd Helton. He was laughing and very friendly, just like everyone else, and when he got to us, we told him what we wanted. Todd promptly obliged. "C'mere, guys!" he said, and draped his arms over Gillian and I with Darcy in the middle. We all grinned as a helpful fellow fan snapped our last pic, and then we carefully tucked the camera in our backpack to await development. (We're probably going to have to get double or triple prints, since we'll all want one to take to school). Jamey Carroll showed up a bit later, and when we told him we'd run out of film, he said, "Darn!" We stayed there as long as we wanted, about 45 minutes in all, enjoying some pure baseball heaven -- talking with our boys, standing on the field, in a glorious summer-like afternoon -- until we at last decided that without film and the fact that the guys were heading in, we might as well amuse ourselves in the hour and a half remaining until gametime. So we headed up, got a drink, and headed for the Diamond Dry Goods store, which in itself was another section.
The Store/The Interim
Naturally, when you walk into the place, there's all sorts of Rockies goodness that scream at you, and your pocketbook, to be taken off the shelf and purchased. We ambled around, bickering good-naturedly, comparing prices, and trying to talk each other into buying things. I got a Rockies magazine and two very cool necklaces (the necklaces are silver and black with a little hurricane on them, and they look a bit like Rich Harden's if you've ever seen it. We promptly dubbed them the sweet-ass necklaces since they were so cool -- one was for me and one for Gillian). We argued about whether or not we would buy a new baseball (I actually spent an hour the other day hand-sewing our one remaining ball, which had its stitches coming to pieces, so we could play catch) and/or a pack of baseball cards. (We eventually ended up nixing both of them, as I insisted that I would pay for $20 worth of merchandise and no more. "I have to put my foot down somewhere.") Darcy bought herself a hoody (I need one of those, they're awesome) as a birthday present for herself and we'd barely gotten out of the store before she decided that she needed a sweet-ass necklace to match ours. So we went back in, still arguing about who owed who money, and she found one more hurricane necklace and bought it. Now with matching sweet-ass necklaces, we finally decided to go find our seats.
We'd used our Ladies' Night vouchers to get two free tickets, so we'd only paid for one, Darcy's. We were very pissed that we couldn't sit in our accustomed spot in the right field mezzanine, but we got to Section 332 and stopped complaining, as the seats were third deck, right behind home plate and were just fine; we could see the whole field and there was nothing to bitch about. We dropped our stuff and then climbed up to the very top of Coors, to the very last row, and looked out through the mesh at Denver beyond. I snapped a few pictures on my cell phone of us, the field, and we just stood up there and admired how beautiful it was and how unbelievably happy we all were. We took one picture that I declared I would send to the "Fans of the Game" promotion they always do. I said with certainty that there was no way they couldn't feature it, and for the record, here it is:
Left: Gillian. Center: Me. Right: Darcy.
I took one look at it and said, "We're finally gonna get on the scoreboard." We took some more pictures and then headed off to get dinner -- pretzels, hot dogs, sodas, you know, ballpark food. We hung out on the sunny upper concourse for a little, then wandered back to our seats, too goofily and incredibly happy to care about anything very much. Coors Field is my happy place and I want to be there so much that it feels as if I can never get back soon enough when I leave. We got back to our seats in time to cheer for the Rockies when they announced the starting lineups. I know that I grind the start-Iannetta axe all the time, but in the three games I've attended this year, he's started each of them, so maybe it's something about me? Dunno.The Game
The game started, Jeff Francis came out of the gate dealing (four perfect innings) and Helton blasted a bomb to dead-center in the bottom of the first to ensure that he was never working from behind. Francis lost the perfect game in the top of the fifth, and had to deal with traffic in the sixth and seventh as well, but he ended up with yet another strong seven-inning showing and only one run allowed. He's really been the "Jeffrey Franchise" that the Rockies expected and needed, and it was fun to watch him pitch tonight. Ken Griffey Jr. and Adam Dunn, the Reds' top homer threats, both looked absolutely silly against him (he had an insane number of swing-throughs tonight; they just couldn't get a bead on that changeup or slider). Manny Corpas' punchout of Griffey in the eighth gave Junior the golden sombrero, and while striking out Dunn isn't that difficult, Francis did it twice for a total of six Ks on the night. The Rockies got their other two runs on a single and stolen base by Kaz Matsui followed by a perfectly placed bloop single from Holliday, and in the bottom of the eighth, Spilborghs (pinch-hitting for Francis; thank God it was him and not Finley) laced a double and scored when Willy Taveras bunted and the Reds reliever threw the ball away. Corpas had a perfect eighth in which he buzzsawed easily through three up, three down, and Fuentes came in for the ninth. Aside from a walk, he was great, and the Rockies ended up winning 4-1.
We were really into the game the whole time, rocking out to the music, cheering for the guys, shouting assorted encouragements or reproaches at them according to what they did, and threatening Baker that he could no longer be our friend after he grounded into three double plays. Each time, Brad Hawpe came up, got to first (two singles and a walk) and got erased. It was just a little frustrating; maybe somebody hexed the third base spot on the Rockies and it isn't Atkins' fault after all. At least when he plays, he only gets himself out.... Love ya, Garrett, but try to pick it up so we don't have to watch Baker do that again, no matter how much we appreciate him for talking to us. We got a little nervous in the sixth after seeing three straight Rockies starters turning into the Hindenburg, but Francis flashed some balls of steel and escaped. And by the way, about our picture? I was right. During the seventh inning stretch, they flashed the Verizon "Fans of the Game" on the scoreboard, and there we were, featured second. We cheered and whooped and high-fived each other.
We danced in our seats and enjoyed the hell out of the game and Gillian and I were happy to see what a great time Darcy had. She's very young for her age (21 next Sunday) and she's very transparent emotionally, so you know if she's happy or not, and she was. We all were. It was a ridiculously good night. The stars were aligned for everything, even moving traffic and free parking, as mentioned. Fuentes ended the game with a groundball to second, and everyone got up and cheered and headed out. It might have been just me, but it seemed as if there was a lot more fans who were actually wearing their Rox gear, so there was plenty of shirts, caps, jackets, etc., on display. It was nice to hear Coors make a lot of noise and get behind their guys, who may or may not always deserve it in terms of their play, but at least they're all terrifically friendly and polite and just great human beings. It made me love them more, and remember why I put up with all their shenanigans.
The only slightly worrisome thing was that Tulo came out of the game in the fifth with tightness in his groin and Carroll took his place. Tulo is an integral component of the team both offensively and defensively, so I really, really hope that it's nothing serious and he'll be back in there tomorrow or the next day. The lineup can't go long without the spark that their rookie shortstop provides, so happy thoughts in Troy's direction. Still giggling about the way he introduced himself three times in a row, as if we might not know.
In conclusion, and as you can see since I've taken so much time to write this all out in excruciating detail, I had a friggin' FANTASTIC time tonight, and if it's not one of the best nights of my life, then it's at least by far the best of 2007 to date. We three deserved a night out to have fun and celebrate the end of the year after all working so hard in school, and oh man, we had a wonderful time. It'll make me happy to think about tonight for a long, long time, and that's not something that happens every day. And our fun-filled weekend isn't even over quite yet -- me and my sisters are going out for a night downtown tomorrow again, attending a 7:30 performance of Wicked. That in itself is going to be great -- I've heard the show's awesome and I'm looking forward to it.
Okay, it's 2:38 in the morning and it's time for me to hit the hay. I've been up so late writing this down because I hope I never forget it. Awesomeness to the tenth power or so, and hey Rockies, you just made my day, month, and possibly year as well. Win tomorrow, bastards. (Some things never change).
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
My Sister is a Celebrity
This year for my dad's birthday, I pulled off a major heist and managed to score him Rockies' Opening Day tickets a week before the game, five rows back in shallow left field. After debating with myself if I should go back to school a week late in order to go, I had to decide that as long as my parents are shelling out so much for my education at a prestigious private college, academia had to take precedence over athletics, as hard as that was. So my sister and dad went instead and had a great time. My sister even got featured in the Denver Post with her sign and a shit-eating grin. Check it out (it's apparently before the sign got autographed by Jason Hirsh and Jamey Carroll). I also heard that it was briefly glimpsed on TV. All this mini-attention will swell my sister's vanity, which, bless her heart, is considerable. (Click on it, it'll get bigger. The, um, picture, that is, not her ego).
More to come tonight, after everyone's actually, you know, played.
EDIT: Squeaky (her Purple Row username) also made it to ESPN under the "Photo of the Day." No shizzle. Check it out.
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/daily?page=dd/070402
More to come tonight, after everyone's actually, you know, played.
EDIT: Squeaky (her Purple Row username) also made it to ESPN under the "Photo of the Day." No shizzle. Check it out.
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/daily?page=dd/070402
Monday, November 06, 2006
As The Dust Settles
... my life returns to daily, normal, college-kid routine; i.e. not waking up before noon if not strictly necessary for a class. But I'm not bitching too much, because I just had a truly awesome weekend with my family, who flew all the way out from Colorado to take advantage of SLC Family Weekend, coincidentally enough. We met up on Friday afternoon, moved my little sister into the dorms, hung out, ate dinner, explored Bronxville, got coffee, went to the library and all my other haunts, and on Sunday, took the train into the BIG APPLE. It was the second time I'd been to the city, and the first time I was there while it was actually a) light out, and b) not raining.
We had a fantastic time. From Grand Central Station we walked to the NYC Public Library, went up between the lions, then walked down Fifth Avenue with the eventual destination of the Museum of Modern Art halfway in mind. We stopped and looked at all the extremely pricey shops, and my frugal Scottish sensibilities were bombarded and overloaded in Saks Fifth Avenue. People pay $1500 for a handbag? As in, half of my bank account? As in, it wasn't even that great a handbag? Welcome to the lifestyles of the rich and famous. For a girl who's grown up on thrift-store clothes - not because she has to, but because her mom is also cheap - it was quite a shock. I think it speaks volumes about me that I was short-circuiting, and not in a good way, in Saks, and then I saw a guy with an MLB Official Clubhouse Shop bag and went, "OOOH, where did he get that?!"
We also saw St. Patrick's Cathedral, more Fifth Avenue, made a brief stop at MoMA, fortified ourselves with a Starbucks, and then went to Central Park, which was very pretty, just as the last remnants of the NY Marathon were hauling ass through. We walked down by the Zoo, then back up onto Fifth Avenue, made a stop at American Girl Place on the way back, and then eventually got back to Grand Central and were surprised to learn that there was a train leaving for Bronxville in three minutes, so we eschewed the planned bathroom stop and rode back home (well, at least home for me). We ate at a Mexican place called Blue Moon Cafe, and then my sister and I got to spend one last night talking.
We told three straight nights of great stories without having to write them, and now that's my task. We've gotten so used to writing our stories down, and archiving them in a file on my computer, that we can't have a gap in the chronology now. And they're so good that I definitely want them preserved so I can re-read them. I'm doing my best to recreate them, but we tell a lot - I'm only 3/4 of the way through the first day, and have two more long editions to go. I should do some homework, but I don't have that much and can take care of the pertinent business this evening before class tomorrow.
I saw them off this morning, got a little teary, but I'm okay now. I'll next see them at Christmas, which will be nice for a number of reasons, namingly that I won't have to sweat over homework. I've started my writing conference project, but need to get cracking on the actual papers for philosophy and history. I have a detailed outline for phil. and a sketchy one for hist., so I need to flesh those out and get my rear in gear.
That's all for now.
We had a fantastic time. From Grand Central Station we walked to the NYC Public Library, went up between the lions, then walked down Fifth Avenue with the eventual destination of the Museum of Modern Art halfway in mind. We stopped and looked at all the extremely pricey shops, and my frugal Scottish sensibilities were bombarded and overloaded in Saks Fifth Avenue. People pay $1500 for a handbag? As in, half of my bank account? As in, it wasn't even that great a handbag? Welcome to the lifestyles of the rich and famous. For a girl who's grown up on thrift-store clothes - not because she has to, but because her mom is also cheap - it was quite a shock. I think it speaks volumes about me that I was short-circuiting, and not in a good way, in Saks, and then I saw a guy with an MLB Official Clubhouse Shop bag and went, "OOOH, where did he get that?!"
We also saw St. Patrick's Cathedral, more Fifth Avenue, made a brief stop at MoMA, fortified ourselves with a Starbucks, and then went to Central Park, which was very pretty, just as the last remnants of the NY Marathon were hauling ass through. We walked down by the Zoo, then back up onto Fifth Avenue, made a stop at American Girl Place on the way back, and then eventually got back to Grand Central and were surprised to learn that there was a train leaving for Bronxville in three minutes, so we eschewed the planned bathroom stop and rode back home (well, at least home for me). We ate at a Mexican place called Blue Moon Cafe, and then my sister and I got to spend one last night talking.
We told three straight nights of great stories without having to write them, and now that's my task. We've gotten so used to writing our stories down, and archiving them in a file on my computer, that we can't have a gap in the chronology now. And they're so good that I definitely want them preserved so I can re-read them. I'm doing my best to recreate them, but we tell a lot - I'm only 3/4 of the way through the first day, and have two more long editions to go. I should do some homework, but I don't have that much and can take care of the pertinent business this evening before class tomorrow.
I saw them off this morning, got a little teary, but I'm okay now. I'll next see them at Christmas, which will be nice for a number of reasons, namingly that I won't have to sweat over homework. I've started my writing conference project, but need to get cracking on the actual papers for philosophy and history. I have a detailed outline for phil. and a sketchy one for hist., so I need to flesh those out and get my rear in gear.
That's all for now.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
A Special Summer with the Rockies
Something funny happened this summer. It wasn't just my rabid anticipation to quit the modest foothills of Evergreen, Colorado, and jet cross-country to New York, where I'm starting my freshman year in college this fall. It was something a little different, something which made this summer one of the best in recent memory.
I discovered the Rockies.
Well, it wasn't as if I'd been unaware of them before. Born in Denver, and having lived in Colorado for the greater part of my formative years with the exception of a four-year detour out East, I did at least have a working knowledge of the boys in purple and silver. However, my family moved back in 1997, and by then, the Rockies' brief flirtation with success - the 1995 Wild Card and the Blake Street Bombers - had already evanesced into distant memory. Larry Walker, Todd Helton, Vinny Castilla - they were all still around - or in Helton's case, just starting on the way up - but the Rockies began their fade right around then, vanishing into ignominy permanently in the NL West cellar.
I'm a girl who honestly, truly, and completely loves baseball. During the aforementioned detour to the East, my family lived in Columbus, Ohio, and we got to 10-15 games a year (all with dugout seats) for the Columbus Clippers, the Triple-A affiliate of the New York Yankees. My two sisters and I would play "baseball" with our dad in the backyard, using the balls that the players would roll to us over the dugout, taking our gloves along wherever we went, telling stories about the players, and more. Ah, the glory days of youth.
Naturally, we were Yankees fans for quite a while, but eventually started to drift off them, and the acquisition of A-Rod just killed the franchise for us. My younger sister, who's also my best friend, and I had already moved onto our current #1 - the Oakland Athletics - and eventually, the St. Louis Cardinals joined the ranks as well. But not the Rockies. Not yet.
There is something of a tradition in our house of following the Rockies, if only to groan at all the bad decisions made by Dan O'Dowd, Clint Hurdle, and Co. We didn't pay much attention to them in the grand scheme of things, and generally expected them to inhabit the cellar. They never disappointed us in this regard.
That changed this summer. It started when my dad bought tickets to all three of the Rockies/Athletics games for my high school graduation gift. And, well, the A's are my favorite, so I couldn't exactly root against them, and I wasn't yet a Rockies believer. So I was there for all three games - the first two were a disappointment, the third was awesome - and managed to snag a Ladies Night voucher on Wednesday.
This introduced my sister and I to the lovely concept of free tickets, which we took full advantage of. All three of us - my two sisters and I - went to the July 5th game against the Giants and freely rooted for the Rockies, partly because we dislike the Giants and Barroids Bonds intensely. But something happened. We didn't root for the Rockies just because we had to. The Rockies were fun. They played hard. They actually ran out ground balls, unlike the old, slow, lazy farts with San Francisco across their chests. There was a spark among the fans. Even in Denver, notoriously known as Broncos country, people cared about their baseball.
My other favorite team, the Cardinals, hit town for a July 25th and 26th pair of games, both of which a combination of sisters and I attended (myself and younger for the first, myself and both for the second) and, well, I can't root against the Cards either. But this time, even though I (admittedly) cheered the Cards on to victory in both games, I felt a little bad for having to root against the Rockies to do so.
Somewhere along the line, the conversion, or addition, had taken place. We were Rockies fans (and when I say "we," I mean my younger sister and myself -- my older sister likes baseball, but isn't particularly passionate about any team). Coors Field is a beautiful ballpark, the Wednesday night free tickets are a blast, and the Rockies are a young, passionate team that is just a lot of fun to watch. (Management incompetence aside, but that's a topic for another diary). Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that Brad Hawpe may just be the reason that we got so interested in the first place. He's a good player, fun to watch, and it does not hurt that the view of him from behind is, er, extremely aesthetically pleasing. :D
The last game that my younger sister and I could get to was August 2, against the Brewers - she had two weeks of the Aerial Dance Festival up in Boulder and I was leaving for college after that. Oddly enough, this turned out to be quite possibly the best game of the lot. More free tickets landed us in the first row of the second deck - perfect seats - and we sat there throughout batting practice, making jokes about how little we knew about the Brewers and refusing to budge even when a brief and intense pregame rainstorm swept through and splattered us.
The game started, and we rooted for the Rockies. We rooted our hearts out. We wore purple, black, and white to the game, and we took every opportunity to cheer for the hometown nine.
The game started - the outcome was never really in doubt, as the Rockies plated four in the first and four thereafter, to end up with a final score of 8-1. But the game itself was just a thing of beauty. We weren't really stressing over how things were going to turn out, it was a beautiful night, and it was our last game together for the summer. We were almost wishing that that the Brewers would mount a big rally just so it didn't have to end.
At one point, I said, "Rockies, hit a home run. I want an excuse to stand up and scream." Perhaps an inning later, Todd Helton took a Brewers reliever downtown, and I did just that. It was transcendent.
During the seventh inning, we got ice cream, then stood by the outfield boxes, gazing out over the field and just drinking in how beautiful it was. We were already planning to buy tickets there next year when I got home from college - we'd go on Wednesdays and free-ticket our way through the season. During the eighth inning, as the game was drawing to a close, we both got a little choked up because of how supremely special it had been to spend the summer with the Rockies. We weren't always rooting for them, but in the end, we had become believers in purple and silver.
The Rockies weren't just the Rockies, the rather useless and overlooked hometown team that occasionally cropped up in local sports pages and snide commentaries. They were ours. We had grown to care for them, to honestly cheer for them and want them to win on their own merits. We wanted them to do well, to keep on trucking, and to, hopefully, shock the world by pulling out the NL West title.
As far as they go, I'll be cheering for them, even though I'll be in New York instead of Colorado and won't be able to be there in person for them. So do it, Rockies. You can. And thanks for an absolutely terrific, unbelievably awesome summer that we got to spend with you guys over at 20th and Blake.
I discovered the Rockies.
Well, it wasn't as if I'd been unaware of them before. Born in Denver, and having lived in Colorado for the greater part of my formative years with the exception of a four-year detour out East, I did at least have a working knowledge of the boys in purple and silver. However, my family moved back in 1997, and by then, the Rockies' brief flirtation with success - the 1995 Wild Card and the Blake Street Bombers - had already evanesced into distant memory. Larry Walker, Todd Helton, Vinny Castilla - they were all still around - or in Helton's case, just starting on the way up - but the Rockies began their fade right around then, vanishing into ignominy permanently in the NL West cellar.
I'm a girl who honestly, truly, and completely loves baseball. During the aforementioned detour to the East, my family lived in Columbus, Ohio, and we got to 10-15 games a year (all with dugout seats) for the Columbus Clippers, the Triple-A affiliate of the New York Yankees. My two sisters and I would play "baseball" with our dad in the backyard, using the balls that the players would roll to us over the dugout, taking our gloves along wherever we went, telling stories about the players, and more. Ah, the glory days of youth.
Naturally, we were Yankees fans for quite a while, but eventually started to drift off them, and the acquisition of A-Rod just killed the franchise for us. My younger sister, who's also my best friend, and I had already moved onto our current #1 - the Oakland Athletics - and eventually, the St. Louis Cardinals joined the ranks as well. But not the Rockies. Not yet.
There is something of a tradition in our house of following the Rockies, if only to groan at all the bad decisions made by Dan O'Dowd, Clint Hurdle, and Co. We didn't pay much attention to them in the grand scheme of things, and generally expected them to inhabit the cellar. They never disappointed us in this regard.
That changed this summer. It started when my dad bought tickets to all three of the Rockies/Athletics games for my high school graduation gift. And, well, the A's are my favorite, so I couldn't exactly root against them, and I wasn't yet a Rockies believer. So I was there for all three games - the first two were a disappointment, the third was awesome - and managed to snag a Ladies Night voucher on Wednesday.
This introduced my sister and I to the lovely concept of free tickets, which we took full advantage of. All three of us - my two sisters and I - went to the July 5th game against the Giants and freely rooted for the Rockies, partly because we dislike the Giants and Barroids Bonds intensely. But something happened. We didn't root for the Rockies just because we had to. The Rockies were fun. They played hard. They actually ran out ground balls, unlike the old, slow, lazy farts with San Francisco across their chests. There was a spark among the fans. Even in Denver, notoriously known as Broncos country, people cared about their baseball.
My other favorite team, the Cardinals, hit town for a July 25th and 26th pair of games, both of which a combination of sisters and I attended (myself and younger for the first, myself and both for the second) and, well, I can't root against the Cards either. But this time, even though I (admittedly) cheered the Cards on to victory in both games, I felt a little bad for having to root against the Rockies to do so.
Somewhere along the line, the conversion, or addition, had taken place. We were Rockies fans (and when I say "we," I mean my younger sister and myself -- my older sister likes baseball, but isn't particularly passionate about any team). Coors Field is a beautiful ballpark, the Wednesday night free tickets are a blast, and the Rockies are a young, passionate team that is just a lot of fun to watch. (Management incompetence aside, but that's a topic for another diary). Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that Brad Hawpe may just be the reason that we got so interested in the first place. He's a good player, fun to watch, and it does not hurt that the view of him from behind is, er, extremely aesthetically pleasing. :D
The last game that my younger sister and I could get to was August 2, against the Brewers - she had two weeks of the Aerial Dance Festival up in Boulder and I was leaving for college after that. Oddly enough, this turned out to be quite possibly the best game of the lot. More free tickets landed us in the first row of the second deck - perfect seats - and we sat there throughout batting practice, making jokes about how little we knew about the Brewers and refusing to budge even when a brief and intense pregame rainstorm swept through and splattered us.
The game started, and we rooted for the Rockies. We rooted our hearts out. We wore purple, black, and white to the game, and we took every opportunity to cheer for the hometown nine.
The game started - the outcome was never really in doubt, as the Rockies plated four in the first and four thereafter, to end up with a final score of 8-1. But the game itself was just a thing of beauty. We weren't really stressing over how things were going to turn out, it was a beautiful night, and it was our last game together for the summer. We were almost wishing that that the Brewers would mount a big rally just so it didn't have to end.
At one point, I said, "Rockies, hit a home run. I want an excuse to stand up and scream." Perhaps an inning later, Todd Helton took a Brewers reliever downtown, and I did just that. It was transcendent.
During the seventh inning, we got ice cream, then stood by the outfield boxes, gazing out over the field and just drinking in how beautiful it was. We were already planning to buy tickets there next year when I got home from college - we'd go on Wednesdays and free-ticket our way through the season. During the eighth inning, as the game was drawing to a close, we both got a little choked up because of how supremely special it had been to spend the summer with the Rockies. We weren't always rooting for them, but in the end, we had become believers in purple and silver.
The Rockies weren't just the Rockies, the rather useless and overlooked hometown team that occasionally cropped up in local sports pages and snide commentaries. They were ours. We had grown to care for them, to honestly cheer for them and want them to win on their own merits. We wanted them to do well, to keep on trucking, and to, hopefully, shock the world by pulling out the NL West title.
As far as they go, I'll be cheering for them, even though I'll be in New York instead of Colorado and won't be able to be there in person for them. So do it, Rockies. You can. And thanks for an absolutely terrific, unbelievably awesome summer that we got to spend with you guys over at 20th and Blake.
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