A friend gave me a couple of tickets to the Rockies game a
few days ago. My oldest, Avery, had
always had interest in the Rockies so I decided to take her for a
daddy-daughter date. The Rockies were
playing against the team I had watched before the Rockies inception so I was
very excited to watch the game and excited to share it with Avery.
Per Jacobson tradition, we were running late and even needed
to get my sister involved with ticket pick-up.
We parked the car, grabbed the tickets from my sister in an intersection
in front of the stadium and walked inside just after the national anthem. My daughter's face was glowing as we walked
in. I miss that sense of wonder when
walking into a stadium. To her, the long
lines and crowded walkways are part of the experience not the nuisances that
grown-ups see them as. You could see her
processing all of the information, her eyes bounced from sight to sight, like
my mother in a row of slot machines. After
a few minutes her eyes trained on a snack stand.
"Daddy, I'm hungry."
We waited in a line that seemed forever but the conversation
was great. She talked about her favorite
player, Troy Tulowitzki, and wondered about the likelihood of him hitting a
homerun that game. I said that he
probably would, not fully believing it.
She had never been to a Rockies game where he hadn't hit at least
one. I quietly hoped he would keep the
streak alive.
We got to where we would order and I asked her what she
wanted. After a brief discussion that
cotton candy was not dinner, she settled on an unattractive slice of pizza and
we found our seats. We missed the
Rangers half of the first but got sat down in time to watch the Rockies take a
quick lead and Avery seemed to be getting onto the game. The Rockies continued scoring in the second
and Avery and I discussed why Tulowitzki was her favorite player. To my chagrin it was because he had Justin Beiber's
"Baby, baby, baby" as his theme music, but at least she was cheering,
right? As if I planned it, Tulo came up
to bat as we were having the discussion (with different theme music) and he
promptly put a ball over the left field fence.
He put the Rockies up 7-0 in the second inning. Avery shot out of her seat cheering. I'm sure that my smile would be tough to
duplicate. I was in bliss.
But then it changed, just a couple of inning in, she was
ready for another snack. We went and got
her some Dippin' Dots and she asked if we could go look at the kids area. She ate her snack and spent an inning in the
kids zone. After that she asked if she
could get a souvenir.
"Of course, sweetheart." I responded wanting to
see what was going on with the game. By
the time we got the overpriced pom-pom into her hand the Rangers had begun to
chip away at the Rockies lead and I hadn't seen a moment of it. My phone rang. It was my buddy Dave who had seats behind
home plate. He was offering us a couple
of innings in the seats. We went to meet
him and I was excited about the prospect of using the seats. Dave made his way up the steps and he was
grinning ear to ear. He had just caught
a foul ball. The white whale to many a
baseball fan. As excited as he was, the
prospect of sitting anyplace a ball could actually land scared Avery and I
begrudgingly let Dave know that he could have his seat back.
After that Avery wanted to see how long it would take to
walk the entire concourse of Coors Field.
Incidentally, it takes the exact amount of time that it takes the
Rangers to make a 7-0 game into a 7-6 game.
I asked...no, I begged that we go back to our seats to finish watching
the game. She responded by letting me
know that the cotton candy, Sprite, Dippin' Dots and pizza had left her feeling
"icky" and that she would like to go home. I didn't like it but the prospect of an ill
child forced me to acquiesce to her demands.
We left the stadium and made the long walk back to the car. I could hear the stadium erupt from time to
time and somewhere deep down, I was down about having to leave.
When we got back to the car I unlocked the doors and held
hers as to keep her from banging the car next to us. She started into the car but then turned and
hugged my leg.
"That was the most fun ever!" she said into my
navel. It was one of those moments that
melt you. I hugged her hard and climbed
into my seat. She was asleep before we
left the parking lot.
I listened to the rest of the game on the way home. The Rockies won 8-7 in the bottom of the ninth. The takeaway I had from this is simple: the
thing that kept her from wanting to sit in her seat for the game was the same
thing that made her able to look past the crowds and long lines. It is the sense of wonder that I envied in
her. It's the fact that going to the
game with her was about far more then the score at the end of the game, it's
about the cotton candy and the overpriced baubles. It's about Tulo keeping our streak alive and
the play zone and walking the entire stadium and trying to find Dinger. At the end of the day, I've been watching the
game all wrong. Thank you, Avery.
I love this post, Chris. You really capture her well.
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