I have never followed sports.
Basketball, soccer, even football just did not catch my interest.
My sisters and parents loved to watch most athletics on TV, but I just never got into it. For the first part of my life, watching professionals play just seemed like a waste of my time. <br/>That was, until my dad took me to a Colorado Rockies game.That was, until my dad took me to a Colorado Rockies game.
That was, until my dad took me to a Colorado Rockies game.
Of course, like most kids growing up in Colorado, I spent at least one warm summer afternoon at Coors Field every year.
Most times this was a family and friends type of outing that consisted of me and the other kids running around the stadium begging our parents to buy us cotton candy while they scolded us and tried to watch the game.
I never understood what the big deal was about the people just standing around on the field.
When I got older, probably the summer after sixth grade, my dad came across some free tickets to a game and decided to drag me along with him. I was not thrilled about this.
However, it wasn’t too often that my dad got off work, so I went for his sake.
My dad loves baseball, and he loves me, so I figured I would be doing him a favor.
After a hot dog and an ice cream cone (both items I had guilt-tripped out of him), and a few hours of sitting on the bleachers spending time with my dad, I was sold.
I fell in love with baseball and with the Colorado Rockies.
Every summer after that, every chance we got, my dad and I were at Coors Field, sometimes sitting in the cheap seats, other times right behind the dugout, but we were always together, and we always had a great time.
During those times, I never realized what it was that I loved so much about the game and this team.
For a while, I thought it was the thrill I got when the bases were loaded, or the energy in the stadium after a home run.
Even when the Rockies were swept by the Boston Red Sox in the 2007 World Series, as humiliating as it was, I stayed loyal. I love the Rockies and nothing could change that, not even a little embarrassment.
Now, with Major League Baseball starting in about a month or so, I’ve realized that as excited as I am about this season, it is going to be completely different. This season, a little piece of the game will be gone for me.
I’m going to have to watch Rockies games on TV without my dad.
When I want to talk about the idiot who missed the catch or the pitcher who threw the game of his life, I’m going to have to pick up the phone instead of yelling upstairs.
So, for all the other baseball fans out there, the countdown to spring training is on; less than a week ‘til the boys hit the field.
But for me, my favorite part of baseball won't start until this summer when I am back home in Colorado, sitting in Coors Field, drinking a soda. And spending time with my dad.<br/>&#160;