The Desert of Denver 2045
Benny Bash comes crashing to a stop in the sands of the South Platte wadi. Sand boarders stop to help him out of his DeLorean and brush the fine grains from his back and shoulders.
“It’s a little dusty out here,” Benny jokes with them. They stare back blankly.
“Where’d you come from?” A voice shouts from under a dilapidated bridge that spans only half of its former expanse. “I haven’t heard someone using words like that in these parts for 20 years.”
The words come from a surly looking codger who hobbles over from his encampment made of old solar panels and reflective tarpaulin.
“I came from 2015 to see the future of Denver sports,” Benny tells the old man who bears a waist-length beard and a striking resemblance to a former All-Star centerfielder for the Rockies.
“Well, in the future, we don’t use words anymore – that’s for one thing,” this fellow with “Nazty” tattooed across his knuckles says. “Except for me. Everyone else sends picture messages through their cortical implants. No thank you, for me.”
He ushers Benny back to his make-shift home, which is littered with sports memorabilia from Denver’s past.
“I hope you like the place,” he chuckles. “I donated all my playing days money to build a Children’s hospital. I never was suited for the high life.”
He pulls a faded yellow baseball from a pile.
“This here’s a ball from the last Major League game played by the Colorado Rockies. After 50 years and no division titles, baseball finally relegated them to the minor leagues. Now they’re the farm team for Cleveland. Ain’t that a kick in the pants?”
“But I still see Coors Field across the way,” Benny says.
“Yes, they play lacrosse and football over there – the Outlaws and Rapids are the most popular teams in town. Took over the lease when the Rockies had to move to Pueblo. At least they got to keep the name ‘Colorado,'” the old crank chuckles.
“And this is a Nuggets jersey from the 2029-30 season. They wore grape and magenta that year. I used to have all 47 uniform combinations, but I couldn’t keep up after they were sold to Madrid. I still can’t believe that after all this time they still haven’t made a Finals appearance. Even Charlotte went to the Finals once. They lost to Brisbane. I got to know Dr. Faried pretty well during my time in Denver – back before he was a Nobel Peace Prize winner – I really thought they had something in 2019. Turns out some things never change.”
“What about the Avalanche?” Benny asks. “They were a team on the rise where I come from.”
“Oh, you mean the Mudslides? They had to change their name after Colorado went 15 years without snowfall. They moved to Montana, but their arena was wiped out… by a tornado.
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Surely the Broncos must still be here! Not all of my favorite teams have moved out of town these past 30 years,” Benny implores the hermit.
“Oh, no. They’re still here. They used to be the best flag football team in the country. But now they have this aging quarterback – Marshall Manning – he’s 34 years old. Way past his prime. The next oldest guy in the league is 27. Sure, he gets Tommy John surgery every Wednesday so he can play on Sunday, but he’s not the same quarterback he was in his late teens. The game has changed. I think the only reason he’s still playing is because his Dad owns the Titans and his sister plays for the Colts. The league likes the story.”
“I guess some things don’t change,” Benny says to himself. “Well, I guess I better get back to my Denver, at least there’s some hope there.”
“Then I won’t spoil it for you,” the old man says. “I’ll just tell you this: Keep your schedule open in early February. The old man’s going to surprise some people.”