We arrive at Bob Bronson’s, a dear friend from high school at about 7:00 am. We go to straight to bed and sleep for a few hours, then get up and go to an afternoon game at Coors Field.
We are given a wonderful tour of Coors Field. There is a film crew and a reporter from a local TV station. At the end of the tour, we are introduced to the manager of the Rockies, Clint Hurdle.
After the game, we decide to stop at a local bar for a beer to wait for the traffic to clear. Then we go back to Bob’s house for a wonderful dinner with he and Ann. We make it an early evening because we have a long drive to Las Vegas the next day – 750 miles.
Aug. 5, 2004 - Bob
Denver, CO
Denver, CO
Coors Field -- Another of the good newbies (put PNC, Citizens Bank and Minute Maid on top of that list, too). The brick walls don’t feel cliché here. It works.
It is more family than baseball oriented, which is not my personal first choice, but I do understand why they do it. In fairness, my bias has something to do with my home stadium (and the seating within that stadium), the Oakland Coliseum. I spent many a summer in the left-center field bleachers (when they still had them in the 80’s) and that set my idea for what a baseball game should feel like. I remember actually feeling very out of sorts when my dad got my friend Jonny O and I tickets in the first row along the first base line.
Back to Coors: It’s very comfortable -- the view from where we were (up on the third base side -- choice seats) was excellent. They have a great food section for kids (and adults are welcome to dine there too) where the regular ballpark fare is actually quite a bit cheaper than the “regular” stuff.
And, as the people are the motor, not enough good things can be said for the incredibly kind way we were treated here -- like we were family. At one point, down on the field (and it’s really wrong to say that so ho-hum, “down on the field” because each on field experience is magical and truly a gift), we got to meet Rockies manager, Clint Hurdle. He was extremely warm and very sensitive to our mission of spreading awareness about Parkinson as he has a daughter, as he described it, with “special needs”.
He put his arm around my dad and was giving him a hard time about wearing a Boston Red Sox hat. My dad’s smile was like he was in the bear hug/noogie of an older brother. That smile alone, and knowing I somehow played a part in getting us to this place, was worth all the fears and doubts I’ve gone through on this trip.
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