A Chilly Rockies Game

The last few weeks in Boulder have been hot, and so when my friend Rikki proposed an evening trip to Denver to watch a Rockies game, I couldn't think of much that sounded better. A warm evening, a cold beer, and a baseball game to ignore while I chatted with my friends sounded like a recipe for happiness. To sweeten the deal, tickets for a section of bleachers called "the rock pile" were only $4. 

Alas, when we met at the bus station to ride into Denver, the weather had other ideas. It was chilly and gray and had been all day, so I didn't have high hopes that things would improve much as the evening wore on. I'd never taken the bus into Denver and was glad for the opportunity to try it out. The trip cost $5 and took about an hour. I found myself wishing for the rail line connecting our two cities which was discussed and approved but never built. 

We waited at a bar at the newly refurbished and charming Union Station for the rest of our friends to arrive on later buses, drinking beer and enjoying the atmosphere. Then it was time to head for the stadium, which was only about a ten-minute walk away. 

I don't know whether it was the damp chill of the evening or the fact that the Rockies are a pretty terrible team, but we found that a pretty sparsely populated stadium awaited us when we finally arrived midway through the first inning. Entire sections were completely empty. My friend Lindsay's co-worker had told her that the stadium personnel virtually never check tickets once one is inside, and so we found some seats sheltered from the drizzle that would have cost much more than our spots on the rock pile. Sure enough, we sat there unmolested for the duration of the game. The night was cool enough that beer didn't sound particularly appealing; I found myself wishing for an Irish coffee instead. Warm food did sound good, but vegetarian options were scarce, and I ended up with a tray of nachos followed by a funnel cake shared with my friend Laura. (Hey, this is why I exercise.)

We saw a home run (hit by the other team, alas), but other than that the game was pretty slow, as baseball generally is. I had a good time chatting with my friends but was ready to leave at the end of the seventh inning when we decided we ought to head back to the bus station. The bathroom stop we made on the way out of the stadium managed to separate our group, however, and my friend Colleen and I ended up on our own, very turned around, jogging through the streets of Denver in search of the illusive bus station. If we missed the bus, we'd have to wait half an hour for the next one, and we arrived, panting, with about thirty seconds to spare. The rest of our group, who had taken a more direct route and arrived ten minutes before we had, was amused but happy to see us. 

I'd certainly be willing to go to another baseball game, particularly if tickets can be had for such a low price, but I'll be sure to wait until the last minute to buy them next time so I can vet the weather first. And I'm going to be sure I know exactly how to get to the bus station before I leave the stadium next time.