If you were like me, before walking out of your house in the winter, you had mom saying to put a hat on or else you would get the dreaded sickness. So you laughed but as you got older you learned in science that indeed most of the bodies heat loss is from the head. Pssh mom was right again.
So today it wasn’t extremely cold and I reached for the ol’ ball cap. Not the nice knitted one mom would like or the skull cap which would actually keep you warm, but the ol’ ball cap.
It crossed my mind though. This was my trusty rusty Rockies cap. Shouldn’t I be reaching for the Broncos? It is after all winter and they don’t call them the winter meetings in Vegas for nothing. Then I realized it- I haven’t had a Broncos cap in something like 5 years. The last one I had was a fitted and it fit perfect. I wore that thing into oblivion because it fit so perfect. Then I just never got another one. Hats and me can be standoffish. It’s gotta fit perfect or it just doesn’t end up getting worn. Some people I know could wear any hat and make do with whatever the fit-not I.
This particular hat is sun burned and discolored but it’s seen a lot of battles with me. A true friend. I wore it in the losing years and was proud to have its age with me in the winning. There was no brand new logo or crisp brim, just my old friend. It has a brother just as worn and I rotate depending on the winning streak during the year.
Last season I remember walking next to a guy and his young family. They all had Pirates gear on and I had to comment. Not a bad comment but actually a compliment. The Rockies had just pounded the swashbucklers and I could feel for this guy and his family. I told him how awesome it was he was flying the colors even after his team has not had a winning team since like Willie Stargel. He laughed and said he would be a fan for life and I couldn’t help but tip my worn cap to him. Winning or losing he was flying the colors.
The day after the ’07 World Series I was in DIA catching a flight to Belize. Not because I was so saddened I had to flee the country, but rather for a much needed vacation. Here I am in the Denver airport and everywhere you could see with the naked eye was Red Sox hats. All the beantown faithful catching planes home. There I was with my old friend. I made sure the brim was curved just right like a sharp dressed tux. We lost but I wasn’t going to lose that hat.
Later that week, walking through the heart of a small village, I saw an old Belize man probably 70 sitting on a makeshift bench. To my surprise he was wearing an old Rockies cap. I recognized it was probably from ’96 or ’97 because my dad had worn one just like that. I didn’t stop to ask him how he had gotten it or why he was wearing it. I’m upset to this day I had left my camera in the cabana because I would have loved to taken this gentleman’s picture but I didn’t see him again.
It was cool to see even in a third world country beyond the Yankee and Dodger hats was a lone Rockies cap other than my own. So today no matter it was winter or a losing season, I am still flying the colors.