Our Inaugural Baseball Adventure: Day 2. Coors Field.

After an exciting and suspenseful evening (Would we find a taxi? Would we ever make it back to the hotel? Did Lauren ruin Christmas by eating Rudolph?) we were up bright and early and raring to go. Not only was it a Sunday matinee game, but we wanted to grab breakfast before the game and the food challenge that awaited us.

My sister lived in Denver, actually right next to Coors Field, for a few years and always spoke highly of a breakfast place called Snooze. We were excited to try breakfast there and had our taxi drop us off in front. We saw people milling around the door, which should have been a sign, but walked in to put our name in anyway. The hostess told us that the wait would be approximately an hour and a half. We gave her my cell phone number to text when the table was ready, but we knew we wouldn't be back.

After searching Yelp! for some more local recommendations we decided on The 20th Street Cafe, which had mixed reviews but was cheap and we were able to be seated immediately. I had biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon and Lauren had the typical breakfast platter.

As I was eating my breakfast, lost in my own world, all of a sudden I felt a nudge next to me and I looked up to see Can older lady sliding in next to me and asking for some of my food as a joke. I was immediately taken aback, but she was wearing a Ron Santo t-shirt and so I told her that any friend of Ronnie was a friend of mine.

She was there with two younger members of her family and they sat at a table adjacent to us and we exchanged comments throughout the meal. I love meeting other Cub fans, it's an immediate bond as you know that you have both shared the years of pain and heartache. That sounds awful, but it's really quite nice.

We paid our bill and were at Coors just as the gates opened. We picked up our tickets and stopped for lots of photos outside the stadium, but eventually made our way inside. After the pint glass fiasco of the night prior I was afraid that there might be an issue getting the day's giveaway of a Troy Tulowitzki bobblehead, but it went flawlessly and we were soon on our way down to the field.

There were no ushers hassling us as we walked down to the Cub dugout, unlike ushers at every other ballpark I've been to, so I thought we'd be in great shape. I was wrong. Lauren was stopped after following me down, but she told the usher that I was just coming down to take pictures for a few minutes. The usher was very understanding and even offered to take some photos for us. I wasn't going say no and blow our cover, so we got several more nice photos of us with the field in the background. No complaints here.

As the Rockies celebrated their 20th year, they had a special 20th anniversary baseballs that they used when they played in Denver and I wanted one. Pretty badly. So I settled in to beg the players, unfortunately to no avail. While I was panhandling for a ball I saw that Junior Lake (call-up at the start of the series and surprise offensive stud) was signing at the end of the dugout. I knew I had no chance to fight my way down to the mob, so I stood pat and was rewarded with a big goose egg on both baseballs and autographs, however as I was making my way to our seats I did get the text that our table was ready at Snooze.

By this point it had gotten hot. Really hot. So I decided it was time to make my way to the seats where Lauren had retreated earlier with a bottle of water. Once I got there I saw that there was a Cub signing autographs right where I had been, in addition to the fact that Lauren told me that one of the Cubs shagging fly balls right in front of her had not tossed up a ball because there was nobody in the "right jersey." Timing, folks. It's all timing.

We watched the pre-game festivities and the first inning but the heat was absolutely killing us and we had wanted to explore the ballpark a bit anyway. So we vacated our seats and went to see what Coors Field had to offer.

We made our way to the Team Store, where we ventured in search of air conditioning and something to commemorate our trip. I decided that since I didn't get a 20th anniversary ball from the players, I would just go ahead and buy one. So now for every stadium I visit, I will be purchasing some sort of commemorative ball. Relatively cheap, compact and easy to display. I think it was a good choice.

We wandered the concourse for a bit when Lauren mentioned that she had seen a sign for shandies and she wanted to try one. For those unaware, a shandy is a combination beer and lemonade. It sounded nasty to me too but it was quite refreshing and I actually enjoyed it.

With the slight courage boost provided by the shandy, I knew it was time to do the thing that I was the least excited to try at Coors Field, and yet knew I needed to try. I speak, of course, of Rocky Mountain Oysters. Seafood this ain't. I walked boldly up to the concession stand and told the woman behind the counter that I'd like an order.

She looked at me in disbelief.

I said that I felt like since I was in Colorado, I needed to try them.

She proceeded to laugh and said, "I'm glad I'm not you."

With that vote of confidence, I returned to the table where Lauren was waiting and set them down. After we properly documented them I took the bull by the...well, you know...and took my first bite. It was chewy. Not much flavor. Honestly, they were boring, outside of the fact that I knew they what they were. I eventually had to take some French fries in with each bite just so there was some textural variety and flavor.

I didn't finish the order and now I never need to try those again.

Moving on, we continued our wandering and saw Todd Helton's burger joint, and several remembrances of the Rockies National League Championship year when Lauren decided that we should go and see the "mile high seats."

These seats are literally a mile above sea level and are designated as such by being the only row of purple seats in a stadium of green. It was a bit of a hike up, as there were no escalators running, but getting to see something so unique was worth it.

The view wasn't too shabby either.

After our trek, it had cooled down a bit and we returned to our seats, sno-cone in hand to watch the end of the game. Sadly, the annoying fan behind us was still there. In full voice.

"Hey! There's 2 strikes! Only 1 to go!"

"That's what you want! To get a hit!"

"All right! Score the most runs and you'll win!"

It was a real treat to get the deep commentary and analysis from a real expert like this idiot. It got to the point where we were openly mocking him.

"OK! Oxygen! That's the stuff you wanna be breathing!"

"Do the hokey-pokey! Turn yourself around! Now THAT'S what it's all about!"

Thankfully, there was a sweet older lady sitting next to us who we spoke with throughout our time in the seats. We told her of our adventure and she seemed excited and genuinely told us 'thanks' for visiting Denver.

In one of the more bizarre things we saw on the entire trip was the dental hygiene race, in which a tooth raced toothpaste and a giant toothbrush. These mascot races are becoming more popular, with the sausages in Milwaukee, the presidents in DC and, as we were soon to see, the "legends" in Arizona, but the oral care race was truly something else. And that's the "tooth"!

The Cubs fell again to the Rockies despite a fairly decent pitching performance from Edwin Jackson, going 7 innings and earning a quality start.

0-2 to start the trip was not exactly how we wanted to leave Colorado.

We picked ourselves up and after trying to choose a place to eat for close to a half hour, finally decided that room service and packing for our 4 am hotel shuttle was probably the best plan for our last evening in Denver.

Yes, readers. We really do live the high life! The Mile-High life, for at least 2 days.

The complete set of photos for this game can be found here

The Greatest Game I've Witnessed

For the second consecutive game I was dateless. Lauren's mom and brother were coming in to town and she was planning to join them on their visit to the Reagan Library. I already had tickets for the Angel game, so I opted out and called my brother, Matt, to see if he wanted to join me for the game and the free Mike Trout pint glass. He agreed to leave work early and drive the hour and a half from San Diego to Anaheim.

Due to traffic, we didn't get to the Big A until after 6 pm, with the game scheduled to start at 7. I had completely written off the idea of getting in for batting practice, which was fine, but I was paranoid that we wouldn't get one of the pint glasses. We finally reached our seats in center field a few minutes before the pre-game festivities began.

We were actually sitting in a pretty neat spot as we were right next to the batters eye/national park in center field and kind of cornered in our own little box. It was cozy. We got our food before sitting down and basically didn't need to move for the entire game. This fact would prove to be a very, very good thing.

I had been watching the Cubs game on TV, waiting for Matt to get into town, and they mentioned off-handedly that Aaron Harang was one of the biggest Cub killers of all time. Harang was the Mariners starter and I figured that it was just my luck that he would destroy the Angels as well. That isn't exactly what happened.

After hitting a home run and a triple his first 2 at-bats, it seemed like Josh Hamilton was going to be the hero of the night on his birthday, and a candidate to hit for the cycle, having gotten the hardest part out of the way to start the night. While the Angels were smacking the ball all over the yard against the weak Mariner pitching, Mike Trout was quietly putting together a pretty remarkable night of his own. After he hit a 3 RBI double in the 6th, I turned to Matt and said, "If he got credit for a base hit in his second AB, he is a home run away from the cycle..." We whipped out our phones and checked, and it was indeed an infield hit in the third.

I'm not sure how many in the crowd realized what was happening because as the Angels' lead grew bigger and bigger, the crowd in the ballpark got smaller and smaller, but I have been to enough games in my life to realize that a baseball game is not over until that 27th out is recorded, let alone to not leave  when there is an assault on history.

Innings came and innings went, and the Angels continued scoring while the Mariners did not, but that was, for all intents and purposes, meaningless. We were waiting for one more time at the plate for Mr. Trout. He came to bat in the eighth, with no one on base.

The count against Lucas Luetge was 2-0 when Trout connected on the pitch. It was a long drive right off the bat and it was undeniable that he had hit a home run to complete the cycle. The stadium erupted and after Trout had made his way around the bases, was forced out of the dugout for a curtain call. It was an incredible moment.

As I mentioned, I have been to a lot of baseball games over my lifetime, but I have never been to a game with the historical significance as this. Previously, the closest I had come to was at the second game of a double-header in old Jack Murphy Stadium one afternoon when Kevin Brown took a no-hitter into the late innings, but, as the Padres still lack a no-hitter, we know how that turned out in the end. It was absolutely exhilarating to witness a moment of this caliber in person.

As Trout returned to the field for the top of the 9th, he was very reluctant to make his way out to center field, opting to stand near second base and chat with Josh Hamilton. It was like he knew that we were going to lavish him with love and he didn't want it, being a bit of a quiet guy, but he eventually had to make his way out, and got loved on whether he wanted it or not.

The only issue I had with the game was the removal of Jerome Williams in the 9th after he had spent the previous 8 innings completely dealing. Albeit he had thrown 107 pitches, but given the weakness of the Angels bullpen and the strength of Williams through the 8th inning, I feel like he could have finished the game and earned his first complete game shutout of the year, but overall, this is the most minor of quibbles.

The funny thing about this whole deal was the fact that earlier in the day, Matt had been trying to see if he could pass his ticket off to one of my other brothers, since he had been relatively missing a lot of work and didn't look forward to telling his boss that he was leaving early again to attend the game. I think, when all was said and done, he was reasonably happy with his decision to come up to see Mike Trout become the youngest American League player to hit for the cycle since Mel Ott and the first Angel since Chone Figgins.

In the years to come, as Trout continues his rise to elite superstardom, I'm sure that the number of people who will claim to have been at this game will double or even triple the actual number, but to have actually been there was truly an amazing experience, and one that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Until next time, Keep Trippin' Baseballs!