The weather could have been worse, could have been far, far worse. It could have been snowy like it had been a few weeks ago when I attended the Rockies game in Denver. It could have been rainy. The sun came out at various times throughout the game and there were moments when it was actually pleasant. Of course, that could have been aided by the thermal long underwear I was sporting beneath all the other layers I wore.
The game was a snoozer. I remember lamenting how bored I was and how infrequent were my trips to the park. This may or may not have been the reason that the people behind me were so annoying. They never shut up about inane subjects that had nothing to do about baseball. It wasn’t until the ninth inning when one made the comment “Maybe we should talk about baseball.” That was before the bottom of the ninth began.
That’s when I saw the hawk.
“He’s gonna do it!”
And it was done.
The fireworks were late; either t
he guy in charge of letting them off had fallen asleep over the course of the first eight innings, left in disgust, or was so caught up in the moment of the win that he (or she) forgot to let them off while jumping up and down.