“40,000 VOICES… AND ONE MAN WHO COULDN’T HOLD BACK HIS TEARS.” When Joe Walsh struck that first riff, something felt different. His hands shook a little, the kind of tremble you notice even from the back rows. And then his guitar slipped — just enough for everyone to hear his voice crack under the Dodger Stadium lights. But instead of falling silent, the whole place rose to catch him. Forty thousand people stood and roared the chorus like they’d been waiting their whole lives to sing it with him. Joe looked up, eyes wet, and whispered, “You finished it for me.” And for a moment, it didn’t feel like a concert — it felt like a goodbye wrapped in love and noise.
There are concerts you remember, and then there are the ones you feel for the rest of your life. What…