Posted: August 4, 2005 in Uncategorized

As day seven rolls around, I’m starting to get a bit antsy to be on the road again. Not just to get home, though I’m definitely feeling the distance, but because I still have so many things to see. Being at the far end of my loop and having already travelled so far, I’ve lost my nervous anticipation and I’m now feeling both eager and seasoned. I’ve worked the kinks out of living out of my car and finding a spot to sleep for the night in national forest land, and gotten a groove for driving long stretches. I’m a road trip machine.

My dad headed for Aspen in the morning, so I’m left to my own devices for the day to resupply on food and catch up on email and such for the first time since I left. The world appears to be moving along smoothly without me, so I decide to stay out of it for a while longer.

As a change of pace, and because my aunt and uncle have scored some sweet season box seats, the entertainment for the night is a Rockies-Astros game with my grandparents and my aunt Dayna in Denver, about an hour away. Up until this point, I’ve only ever been to little city league baseball games in Eugene, which are really more of an opportunity for parents to go out for a beer without having to find a babysitter. But this is the big leagues, literally, and Coors Field is to the Ems stadium what a cruiseliner is to a barely functional rowboat. Everything is huge and gleaming new, and the stands around the field are lined with electronic scoreboards and advertisements telling you everything from the speed of the last pitch to what aftershave to use.

To continue the trend of the trip, I go for all the classic accessories: a footlong dog, a bag of peanuts, and a beer. We take our seats some 3 rows behind the dugout, and after about ten minutes realize we’re almost into the bottom of the first. One thing about pro baseball, they don’t exactly start a game with a flourish. Like telling anyone.

A storm looming over us threatens to dump on us all night, even tossing a little rain down once in a while, but it withholds its full force, which is lucky because the game turns out to be the best one of the season. Roger Clemens has drawn a crowd of groupies up from Texas, and pitches a great game while I try to convince my aunt that he is in fact the same Roger Clemens that has been pitching since I was in grade school. But as the game wears on, the Astros’ game begins to fall apart, and the Rockies sense a glimmer of hope. At the beginning, I was fairly nonplussed by the game, chatting with people around us and looking over the stands, but as game grows closer and closer, the building energy of the crowd sweeps me into the tide, and I find myself yelling at the players and critiquing plays with the energy of a Sox fan, albeit a heavily sedated Sox fan. Both teams give up grand slams, and in the top of the ninth, the Rockies pull out their closer and shut down the Astros with a strikeout, winning by a single run.

But even as we drive home from the game, I’m thinking about tomorrow. So much more still left to see and do. I’ve stayed stationary long enough.

  1. muffster says:

    I resemble that remark about a way to go to beer without getting a sitter. that is why my parents took me to ball games πŸ˜€

  2. Anonymous says:

    I resemble that remark about a way to go to beer without getting a sitter. that is why my parents took me to ball games πŸ˜€

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