Support for the wave comes and goes for Rockies players, Coors Field fans
For Brian Simmons, it was baseball blasphemy.
On July 4, the 47-year-old baseball fanatic from Conifer was sitting in his dream seats at Coors Field, perched 26 rows behind the Rockies’ dugout. The home team was leading San Francisco 1-0 as the game entered the ninth inning. Closer Wade Davis was on the mound, trying to protect the lead and get the Rockies back to .500. Rockies 3, Dodgers 2: Ryan Mcmahon’s three-run, walk-off homer lifts Colorado within 1½ games of first place. » 5C
Suddenly, the wave emerged, swamping all fans in its path.
Perhaps the wave started that night because there was a party atmosphere brewing as the sellout crowd waited for the postgame fireworks. Perhaps the makeup of the crowd — lots of families, lots of casual baseball fans — had some- thing to do with it. Whatever the reason, the wave crested at a critical juncture in what turned out to be just the 10th 1-0 game in Coors Field history.
“I couldn’t stand it,” Simmons said. “Every pitch matters in a game like that, and the fans are doing the wave? Give me a break.”
Simmons is not alone in his sentiments. Yet there are plenty of others who say that hard-core baseball fans like Simmons should just chill out and ride the wave for
the fun of it.
“I honestly don’t mind it at all. I think it’s kind of cool,” Rockies all-star third baseman Nolan Arenado said. “If it’s a packed house, it’s really pretty cool. But then, if there is hardly anybody in the stands and a few fans are trying to do it, it’s pretty brutal.
“But bottom line, as long as the fans are being entertained and making some sort of noise, I’m OK with it.”
As baseball debates go, the wave certainly doesn’t move the needle like the issue of whether the National League should adopt the designated hitter. Yet there are plenty of staunch arguments on both sides. Those who love the wave, which long ago ceased being popular at most ballparks, figure its opponents are baseball snobs. Those who hate the wave are pretty sure its proponents can’t tell the difference between ERA and RBI.
Drew Goodman, the Rockies’ longtime TV play-by-play man for AT&T Sportsnet, has found diplomatic middle ground.
“Fans should have the right do anything that does not affect the enjoyment of the game for others,” Goodman said. “I have no issue with the wave, though it is a bit passe.
“The only issue I have is if Nolan Arenado is up with the bases loaded in a one-run game and all of a sudden the wave breaks out. That’s bad timing. If something monumental or potentially monumental is happening on the field, and you’re doing the wave, you lose your baseball card.”
The wave tends to be thought of as a creature of football and soccer, but according to a 2013 ESPN.COM story, the first recorded wave occurred in Oakland at an Athletics playoff game against the New York Yankees on Oct. 15, 1981. According to the story, the wave was organized and led by professional cheerleader Krazy George Henderson and was seen by a national TV audience.
Another account is more local. Krazy George himself was quoted in a 2015 Hockey News story as saying he originated the wave at Denver’s old Mcnichols Sports Arena at Nov. 15, 1979, at a Colora- do Rockies game. That’s Rockies hockey, as in the former NHL team now called the New Jersey Devils. And the Rockies still lost 4-1 that night to the Montreal Canadiens.
Folklore, however, tends to point to the University of Washington in Seattle as the wave’s origin. The truth is, 16 days after the wave debuted in Oakland, a former UW cheerleader named Robb Weller — back for a game as guest yell leader on Halloween — led fans in the wave at Husky Stadium during Washington’s 42-31 victory over Stanford.
Rockies manager Bud Black, who grew up in Longview, Wash., and played two seasons of college baseball at Lower Columbia Junior College in Longview, has loved the wave since its inception.
“I’m pro-wave,” he said. “I remember when Robb Weller started it. Loved it.”
Even at a baseball game? “Yes, I’m for anything that gets the fans excited at a Rockies game,” he said. “I want the fans to be involved.”
One of Black’s best pitchers, however, can’t stand the rolling mass of humanity.
“I loathe it,” said second-year left-hander Kyle Freeland, who’s emerged as the Rockies’ most consistent starter. “For me, as a pitcher, it’s distracting.”
During his last start, in which he threw seven shutout innings vs. the Pirates at Coors Field, the wave broke out, much to Freeland’s displeasure.
“I actually avoided it,” Freeland said. “I threw over to first (base), twice, without a sign. And I stepped off the rubber twice, just waiting for it to pass by. If somebody starts the wave, I can sometimes feel it coming from my back side. The other day, I felt it coming and I stepped off and let it pass by.”
Freeland is not the only pitcher who shares his displeasure with the the wave. Mets right-hander Noah Syndergaard has frequently tweeted his disdain, with a wicked does of humor thrown in.
For example:
“After more research, Children who do the wave are 5X more likely to drop out of school. It’s on the web, must be true. Save the children!”
“The wave is THE direct cause of global warming.”
Deb Smith, 56, a longtime Rockies season-ticket holder from Fort Collins, has her own take.
“I’ve been around long enough to notice that most of the people who start the wave are usually single-game participants,” she mused. “It’s like, ‘Hey, here we are at a big-league ballpark, so let’s start the wave.’ I’ve noticed that it usually takes them three or four times to get it going. But they stick with it.”
Smith’s seats are in the left-field bleachers at Coors, just seven rows from the field. The area that is often ground zero for the wave. She’s learned to love it, in her own way.
“I continue to watch the game, because I’m really into baseball,” she said. “When the wave comes through my section, I don’t stand up with everybody else, but at least I raise me arms.”