Spring + Snow = STOOPID

It's March 28 here in Denver, CO and I wake up to a dusting of snow and sleet falling from the sky.  A high temp today of 51 and then returning snow for tonight and tomorrow.  Really?  I mean... REALLY?

I was under the impression that Spring carried with it visions of green grass, warm weather, sunshine and flip-flops.  Golf anyone? Instead, the closest I have come to playing golf is relocating my new golf shoes from the closet to the golf bag eagerly awaiting it's time for action.  This just doesn’t seem fair.  Sure, I can see those jerks on TV playing in Sunshineville with tiny beads of sweat forming as they stand over a 10 foot putt… but where is that for me?  Instead, my best round of the year comes from the Xbox where I put the smack down on Mr. Arnold Palmer.  That isn’t the same.

We are only 4 days away from OPENING DAY at Coors Field.  Are you telling me that I will not be in shorts and baseball lid, sporting the shades and looking for that “yes I was at the game sunburn”?  I should pack some snow shoes, mittens and beanie?  Come on, man!  My wonderful beer will be topped with a layer of snow that drops from nasty, cold skies?  No I will not have hot chocolate – are you kidding me?  This is baseball!  The only times you should see the players breath is in the frickin post-season playing some playoff baseball.  Do you know how utterly nasty it is to sit in the stands with all the pasty white skin?  Again, not right.  Give these people some sunshine to tan up!

No, I will not move to Phoenix or San Diego for many reasons. 

1.     I like the snow… WHEN THE SEASON CALLS FOR IT! 

2.     In San Diego, I might run into Phillip Rivers and be forced to punch his throat off.

3.     Steve Garvey is no longer a Padre

4.     No Phoenix because it’s too close to a friend of mine in Flagstaff that I don’t like all that much…

The list goes on.  My point is that Denver is awesome.  Colorado is great.  But come on with this late March Madness… the only March Madness should come in the form of poop all over my brackets.  I want 70 degree golfing weather and a 1:00 tee time.  I want a Fat Tire (or two) and a seat in Section 110 at Coors Field.  I want the sunglasses tan on my face.  Is that too much to ask?  I want the spring that I dream of….