No time to report this time 'round. Here's the nutshell version as it pops into my head:
Band was busting ass, but every member spent a lot of time in Idaho last night. Wee bit of a mess at times -- Andy actually gave himself a thumb's down after a solo; Sting kept jumping in at weird times. Overall SC seemed to try to compensate by playing harder, but you could see that the beat was eluding him at times (such as in "Wrapped"). Was not an especially neat night, but was a rocking good time with a bit of edge-of-your-seat anticipation of how it would all turn out thrown in.
Sting did push Andy's playing last night -- literally. On at least two songs, Sting walked up behind Andy and physically nudged him with his shoulder, hip, and leg to the edge of the stage.
Since the Flag was in Philly (which kinda sucked cuz had Hartford been known, the Flag would have easily been there), Moeskido made up a quick proxy -- that said "Flag Proxy" with the horse logo. Not sure if Stewart could actually read the words, but he seemed appreciative.
Stewart broke something or needed some kind of really fast drum tweak because he did pop out from behind the kit for a few seconds at one point but it was really brief.
Sting did the whole "let them hear you in (insert state here)" bit -- but although he did get the neighboring state correct (MA), he didn't seem quite sure. Back to geography class for you, Stingo!
The damn stadium people actually tore our ticket stubs (rather than scanning them)! Now this poor ticket is going to look stumpy next to the others. Bastards.
There's no doubt more, but I'm having to rush through to get ready for MSG. Hope that, at the very least, it keeps your jonesin' demons at bay.
N.B.: If you've got seats in right in front of the Stadium Wall of Speakers, take a dramamine and some earplugs because HOLY MOTHER OF CRAP. Is it possible to feel one's own bones? Because I swear that I could feel the bones in my fingers vibrate. The guy next to me actually felt sick from the volume. (I gave him the earplugs I had in my purse.) The bassdrum and snare hits were so loud that I couldn't feel the difference between them and my own heartbeat. It was ungodly. I thought Sting's "Synch II" wail would make our ears bleed. Did I mention holy mother of crap? Whoa.
ETA: Thanks to nancyrose for the unexpected Hartford show!