Tuesday, August 5, 2008
My night at Coors
I've been in Denver for about 3.5 weeks now, with only three non-sabbath days to go. I haven't been yet to the Rockies (the mountainous kind) because all my fellow publishing students seem to have developed a habit of taking those trips on Saturday mornings. I figured, as a fairly decent substitute, I could go see the Rockies (the baseball kind). So last night, with 24 other baseball-tolerating aspiring publishers I did just that. This was my sixth ballpark, after, in chronological order, Shea and Yankee Stadia, Fenway Park, what is now called the Rogers Centre (i.e., the one in Toronto), and Dodger Stadium. But Coors Field was my first ballpark named after a beer; not surprisingly, the beer isn't any cheaper there.
The game itself was pretty dreary, which may have been expected in a contest between a home team eleven games under .500 (and after Monday's defeat, make that twelve) and a visiting squad which ranks as the worst in baseball (the DC Nationals). The stadium witnessed its loudest moment when the club, using the jumbo-tron, welcomed the DU Publishing Institute. Section 207 rocked to the sound of our infamous "We Love Books" cheer. The only other reason the crowd worked itself up was to participate in The Wave. The weird sporting event thing and not the peer-pressure book, that is. Like so:
The Colorado Wave wasn't as good as the one in the video, but, to be fair, Jerseyans are known for their ability to stand and sit in an organized manner. Although, to be fair about this also, we missed the Rockies's first three runs (out of four) because we were doing car bombs. It looked on TV like the crowd was excited about that, but it was kinda hard to tell at that point.
The ballyard itself it pretty beautiful. Relatively comfy seats, wonderful sight-lines, and the Rocky Mountains peek up over the left-field foul pole. It always strikes me as nice that most ballgames begin in daylight and conclude after darkness has hit. Bob Costas would make a big deal about how this represents the importance of a boy's game being played by men, with the love of the game being preserved with a child-like enthuasiasm for this pasttime of the nation. But he's kind of an idiot. I just think it's nice to be able to watch the sunset during like pitching changes or whatever.