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My experience at Game 3


Last night was my first playoff baseball game.  For those of you who could not attend, I'll try to chronicle the experience at Game 3, the first playoff game at Coors Field since Jon Lester clinched the World Series for Boston almost two years ago.

I expected to feel exhilaration, anxiety and excitement for the game.  Oddly, my first two strong emotions were frustration and confusion.  In spite of arriving an hour early, I missed the first half inning, as the line to enter the stadium took over 50 minutes.  

Then the confusion set in as I walked through the tunnel to my section.  There wasn't supposed to be snow in the forecast...why was this kid wearing a ski mask?  What was with the dry snow falling down around me?  Then I realized it wasn't snow at all.  The kid was silly overprepared and the white stuff wasn't snow at all.  It was white fibers billowing off of 50,109 white and purple oscillating Rocktober towels.  Ah, playoff baseball at last.



  • The game was exceedingly hard-fought.  Each time the Phillies scored, the Rockies responded soon thereafter, keeping the shivering witnesses in the game.
  • There was no wave at any point.
  • There seemed to be very few Phillies fans, though the one I ended up sitting next to was one of the nicest and agreeable fans of an opposing team I have come across.
  • I told PhillieFan that it was about time to see a Carlos Gonzalez line drive home run to right.  Four pitches later, he delivered.
  • I am completely positive the Tulo chant echoed all the way to Philadelphia.  Or at least to Golden.  As I commented in the GT last night, it literally vibrated my seat.
  • To pass the time in a long entrance line, several loud and spontaneous "GOOOOO!!!! ROOOOOCKIES!!!" chants reverberated around home plate.
  • Gotta love those towels.



  • We lost.
  • My feet shrugged off the double sock effect and did their best Mr. Deeds impression.
  • It was freezing cold.  While some fans remained rowdy, the chilly temperatures sucked the life out of what I would expect for a playoff crowd.  In the critical ninth, few stood and even the big screen that pined for life from the crowd wasn't enough motivation to thaw the fans.  The towels didn't have quite the desired effect.  This isn't an indictment, as I myself was fairly stagnant.  It was just cold.
  • I saw Utley get hit on his ninth inning "single" from the upper deck.
  • We still have a lame assortment of walk-up music.
I look forward to seeing a thawed out version of Purple Fever later today.  I've included a few other Photos under the fold.


One fan actually had a Jason Giambi jersey.  A Rockies Giambi jersey.



Players had new NLDS-style photos.  While the Phillies trended towards imitating a biker gang mug shot....



Yorvit Torrealba decided to go with a sad puppy look.  Most of the Rockies sported disinterested/spacey mugs, including this one of Tulo or this one of the Little Pony.



But of course, Dex is incapable of not smiling.



Waving the white towel is very different from waving the white flag. 



Scott Eyre delivers a pitch that would eventually end up in left-center field after a CarGo double.



Smoke lingers above the field after a short burst of seventh inning fireworks.


It was a tough, tough game to lose, though I'll certainly remember it for its frigidity as well as my initiation to playoff baseball.  We'll get them later today with Baldy on the hill, then all bets are off for Game 5.  It's not like we haven't won a Cook/Hamels matchup at CBP or anything...