So there we are, sitting in the sludgy Colorado air, watching a baseball game that's gone on forever. Every time a batter makes progress, the Florida Marlins manager trudges out to the pitcher's mound, catcher in tow, then they have a long talk while everyone else stamps their feet and looks at the clock. ("Can you believe those idiots?" the Mound People say. "Everyone has to wait while we pretend to discuss Important Stuff out here. Let's keep it up, and they'll get so bored that they'll lose concentration and fan out!")
By the twelfth or fifteenth time this happened, fans started yelling. Then booing. And it was happening yet again.
Picture the scene: last inning. Jason Giambi is cooling his heels while the Marlins hold their little chatfest on the mound. The rest of the Colorado Rockies players are standing around, talking to each other, or scratching themselves.
Two outs.
Two balls, two strikes.
Coors Field was emptying fast. Half the fans had already given up and gone home, convinced the Rocks were going to lose. The other half figured it was close to the end anyways, so were dancing to "Twist and Shout," calling out jokes, packing up, or slugging down beer.
Finally the Marlins manager goes back. (Muffled insults and cheers.) The pitcher revs up. Then all of a sudden -- BOOM, and Jason's ball goes whizzing past our side of the stadium. It arches up, up and over --
Home Run!
People whip their arms in the air, start screaming and hugging each other. The fountains leap up. And Jason casually jogs around the bases before diving into the players who have raced out of the dugout to meet him.
The Rocks win: 7-4! What a heart-stopping, chest-pounding ending to a game!
(And we even got cheap tacos out of it.)
So they lost tonight, to the same team. (The Marlins probably bored the fur off them. Jason came close to doing it again - smacking a two-run homer in the bottom of the ninth...but it was one run too few.) They're still our Colorado Rocks. Ain't love grand!
By the twelfth or fifteenth time this happened, fans started yelling. Then booing. And it was happening yet again.
Picture the scene: last inning. Jason Giambi is cooling his heels while the Marlins hold their little chatfest on the mound. The rest of the Colorado Rockies players are standing around, talking to each other, or scratching themselves.
Two outs.
Two balls, two strikes.
Coors Field was emptying fast. Half the fans had already given up and gone home, convinced the Rocks were going to lose. The other half figured it was close to the end anyways, so were dancing to "Twist and Shout," calling out jokes, packing up, or slugging down beer.
Finally the Marlins manager goes back. (Muffled insults and cheers.) The pitcher revs up. Then all of a sudden -- BOOM, and Jason's ball goes whizzing past our side of the stadium. It arches up, up and over --
Home Run!
People whip their arms in the air, start screaming and hugging each other. The fountains leap up. And Jason casually jogs around the bases before diving into the players who have raced out of the dugout to meet him.
The Rocks win: 7-4! What a heart-stopping, chest-pounding ending to a game!
(And we even got cheap tacos out of it.)
So they lost tonight, to the same team. (The Marlins probably bored the fur off them. Jason came close to doing it again - smacking a two-run homer in the bottom of the ninth...but it was one run too few.) They're still our Colorado Rocks. Ain't love grand!
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