Pay the mortgage, or buy Rockies tickets?

Spare $2,100 for World Series tickets?

I think not. That's how much my wife's coworker wanted for three tickets to game three of the World Series Saturday at Coors Field in Denver. A little rich for my blood -- and my budget. That's two mortgage payments. Eight car payments. Fourteen weeks of groceries. Seven hundred lattes. I mention lattes because that seems to be the measure of most things in newspaper stories about the economy. "If the average consumer gave up one latte a day, he/she could buy a yacht in five years." Something like that. Three World Series tix for seven hundred lattes?

This offer was made before the Series started in Boston on Wednesday. They may be cheaper now that the Rockies are down two games to none. But maybe not. The Series has never been held in Denver. This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime events that you'll be able to tell your grandkids. "I saw the Rockies whip the Boston Red Sox in ought-seven." Or "I saw the first World Series game ever played at a mile high."

It's not worth it. The best I'll be able to do for my grandkids is say that I saw Helton and Tulo and Matsui play during the World Series season of 2007. I might also mention that I paid 90 bucks for three great Rockies tix in August. First base side, 20 rows up. We watched the Rox beat the Brewers. In front of us were four bearded guys from Milwaukee, about my age, who'd decided to catch one of their hometown team's road swings. They'd been touring the mountains that day, and now sat back with beer and brats to watch the game. They thought the Denver fans were a bit timid, too laid-back. An old criticism of residents of Rocky Mountain High-land. Did I mention that they also were Green Bay Packers' fans? Diehards. I suggested they attend the next Packers-Broncos game at Mile High Stadium and sit in the south stands. See if they can find any laid-back fans there.

I'm not a diehard fan about any team. I like the Broncos and Rockies, but don't live and die with their fortunes. In August, I took the family to a Broncos' exhibition game (three tix for $56!) and we sat amongst a bunch of drunks. One very large drunk, at the game with his son and a male friend, spent most of the game trying to pick up an apparently single mom seated with her two young kids. He made no headway, despite his bonehead witticisms and the obscenities he aimed at the refs. He and his pal gave a hard time to the interracial couple seated below them. Then he and his friend lit cigarettes and that was too much for my wife. "No smoking in the stands!" The overage bad boys stared at her but said nothing. I was thinking: "My wife is going to get my ass beat." I've seen more than one fight in these stands. As they filed out between the third and fourth quarters (what kind of fan leaves early?), one of the guys told my wife that it was lucky she was a woman. He gave her a hard look. She stared at him, said nothing. Ditto for me. I was just glad they were gone so I could enjoy the Broncos' dismantling of the Arizona Cardinals on a warm August night.

My wife and I have watched all the Rockies' post-season games, including the one-game divisional playoff against San Diego. That went thirteen innings and I didn't go to bed until after the last out. I guess that's pretty dedicated. I wasn't there, choosing instead to watch from the comfort of my front room.

The Red Sox have been impressive during the first two games. Excellent pitchers, and they knocked the cover off the ball on Wednesday night. Rox pitchers pretty much shut them down last night. Unfortunately, they still got two runs and the Rox only one. But Coors Field is friendly to Rockies hitters. So we'll see what happens Saturday and Sunday and (we hope) Monday.

I could spend all day and many calories/electrons writing about the economics of baseball. I hate its excesses, the huge profit that greedhead owners pull from the wallets of gullible fans, the big paychecks for some of the players. Owners regularly blackmail fans to build big new stadiums so they can boost their already obscene revenues. It happens in football too.

Here's something else. Who are the people who sit behind home plate and get their well-groomed mugs on TV? No matter the ballpark, those faces are white. Yuppies with cash, by the looks of it. They can buy the tickets, pay the mortgage, and sip lattes 'til the cows come home.

The excesses of big-time sports are legion.

Still, I like the Rox and not the Sox. I like the way the Rox play hard and play as a team. Intriguing personalities, too, although none have a goofy dance like Sox pitcher Jonathan Papelbon. Rooting for a winning team makes my anemic little life more interesting.

But pay $2,100 for three tickets? Never do it. But do I hear $1,500? Now you're talkin'...