Have you ever had a night so amazing that it makes you wish you could freeze time, so that you could revisit some time in the future when things weren’t so perfect?  That’s how last night was in Denver.  Lyle and I headed down to the Coors Field at about 5:30 p.m., taking I-25 to 20th Street.  We were amazed at how little traffic there was.  I mean, the ballpark is downtown, and I always thought the problem with downtown ballparks is that it screws up traffic.  Not in Denver.  We cruised right up into a parking lot adjacent to the park with no problem.  We then walked over to the sidewalk right in front of the main gate, and started a hula hoop contest, saying that anyone who could hoop longer than my sister could get $25 worth of gas.  And people were horrified.  People in Denver apparently enjoy paying $3 a gallon for gas, because we had to twist people’s arms to win $25.  I mean, if we had tried a promotion like this in Philly, we’d have had to get a police escort out when we decided to stop hula hooping.  But the people in Denver looked at us like we were exotic zoo animals, curiously but apprehensively. 

The game started, so we decided to go in.  We got tickets to the Rockpile, a section above center field where the seats only cost $4!  Well, the Rockies fell behind 6-0 early, and it looked like we were in for a blowout.  My sister brought up the fact that she had never done the wave but had always wanted to.  Well, her husbandsaw an opportunity to score some big points, so he took off to the front of the section we were in.  Now, John’s a pretty quiet, pretty laid back guy, so I was shocked when he saw him imploring the crowd to start the wave.  “My wife is from a rural town in Virginia,” he yelled, “And she’s never been a part of the wave.  Let’s get one started for her!” 

The small section he was yelling to was enthused, and when he counted to three a couple of hundred people started the wave.  My sister said, “I better go down and help.”  So she started yelling at the next section over, letting them know what was up.  John counted to three and our section rose and threw their hands to the sky, and the next section over joined in before it died a few sections over.  Wanting to represent Philly, I started booing the section that had stopped the wave. The Denver crowd, which was polite, and had probably never booed before, followed my lead.  John counted to three again, and our section rose, and the next section, rose, and the next, and now the wave was spreading like the Black Plague.  The third base section rose, then home plate, then first base, and it continued it’s way around the ballpark.  It got to our section, and we rose again.  Now every single person in the stadium was involved.  What’s more, the Rockies listless bats, seemingly inspired, suddenly came alive.  The wave did another lap, then another, and another.  And the Rockies just kept hitting.  When the wave finally crashed, after five laps (the longest wave I’ve ever seen or been a part of), the Rockies had scored three runs and we had ourselves a baseball game.  Lyle, Errin, and Michael headed out to hand out frisbees.  John and I, being die hard baseball fans, simply couldn’t leave a close game before it ended. 

The score was 8-6 Padres heading into the bottom of the ninth.  We went to watch Padres closer Trevor Hoffman warm up.  Hoffman is considered one of the greatest relief pitchers ever, but he had blown the save in the All-Star Game a few weeks previous.  As he headed to the field, he walked within a few feet of me.  Once again, the Philly in me was unleashed.  “Come on, Trev,” I yelled, “Just like the All-Star game, baby.  Just like the All-Star game.” He definitely heard me. Hoffman took the mound, and subsequently gave up a game tying two run homer.  I was so surethat I had decided the outcome of the game, that I started to feel guilty.  What if he hears my voice every time he takes the mound now, and his career is finished?  I will have single handedly ended the career of a Hall of Fame baseball player.  And that has me a little uncomfortable. 
The Rockies won in the bottom of the tenth on a play at the plate that was the #1 play of the day on Sportscenter.  That was the greatest baseball game I have ever seen live.  But there was no time to celebrate.  We dashed out to the sidewalk to greet the throng with free frisbee.  We stationed ourselves strategically across the stadium, and the frisbees flew out of our hands like hotcakes. We unloaded thousands of them, going until we were entirely out.  John, Errin, and I headed back to the Hampton Inn, where we closed the evening by having a cannonball contest in the hotel pool.  It was a tie.        

This entry was posted on Friday, July 28th, 2006 at 10:54 pm and is filed under RoadTrip. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.