Whoof Hee Hooba

OMG. Jesus. Wow. Need cardiac unit. Need it.

Yesterday:
The Brewers, down to their last strike against Trevor Hoffman in Milwaukee, which would give the Pads the Wild Card outright and eliminate the Rockies, pulled off a pretty improbable rally. Tony Gwynn Jr., in the mother of all ironies, hit a game-tying triple to force extra innings, and in the bottom of the eleventh, Vinny Rottino's RBI single brought home Ryan Braun to seal a 4-3 win for the Crew. Still, it didn't mean anything unless the Rockies won; a Pads win or Rox loss would boot my boys out for the 12th straight season.

The Rockies did not lose. Led by a 4-run first and a sixth-inning grand slam from tROY Tulowitzki (if he doesn't have that thing wrapped up, it's highway robbery) they assaulted the Diamondbacks 11-1 and lived to play another day.

Today:
But they faced the same situation today -- they had to win, and the Padres had to lose, just to reach a tiebreaker. The Padres chose to pitch Brett Tomko and save Jake Peavy for a Monday start in the tiebreak, while the Rockies tabbed talented 23-year-old Ubaldo Jimenez. They were opposed by Jeff Suppan and Yusmeiro Petit, respectively, and the Padres went up 3-o early. It looked as if the Rockies were going to go down without being able to lift a hand in their own defense, which sucked.

Then Tomko began to pitch like the 4-11 pitcher he was, the Brewers capitalized, and went up 5-4, stretched it to 6-4, and didn't look back with Gabe Gross's bases-clearing triple making it 9-4. They tacked on a few extra, fended off a ninth-inning threat from the Friars, and made it an 11-6 final.

U-ball and Petit came out of the gate dueling, and Jimenez was amped; his first pitch clocked at 98, and he no-hit the D-backs through five complete innings while racking up 10 Ks. His control goes to hell around 95 pitches, and usuallly in the seventh inning. He walked two, Hurdle put in Julio for some reason best known to him, and naturally, he permitted an RBI single to tie the game at one. (Atkins' single and Hawpe's triple had led to a 1-0 advantage for the Rox an inning earlier). Hurdle fortunately yanked him and installed Fuentes, who came up with two huge strikeouts to end it, and managed (after two walks) to repeat the performance in the top of the eighth as well.

Bottom of the eighth. Tulowitzki reaches on an error, Holliday reaches on an infield single, Tulo to third, Helton walks. Atkins comes through with the tiebreaking RBI single, and then, with Coors going berserk, Hawpe delivers the two-run double to push them to 4-1. Torrealba struck out, naturally, and Cory Sullivan grounded into a double play, to squash their chances of getting more.

Onto the ninth. Usually reliable Manny Corpas has been looking wobbly lately, and allowed a single and a double to open the inning; a run scored on a sacrifice fly. He then induced a groundout, but an RBI bloop single made it 4-3. I was pretty much dying. Rocking. Squeaking. Hyperventilating. Moaning. Crazy.

Stephen Drew chops it back to the box. Manny fields it off-balance and flings it to Helton, who beats Drew by half a step to the bag. Coors goes off the handle and so does Helton, who skips around madly and flings himself into Tulo's arms. The Rockies did what they needed to do. They won 13 of 14 to set up the playoff game tomorrow, which will be Jake Peavy vs. Josh Fogg (not good, admittedly, but who had us winning 13 of 14? Who had us in this position, tied for second place in the NL West at 89-73, one game behind the D-backs? Playing in front of a sold-out crowd with the purple fever?

Here are the playoff spots:
NL West: D-backs
NL Central: Cubs
NL East: Phillies (yes, the Mets tanked, and I'm afraid this will cost Holliday the MVP in favor of Rollins)
NL Wild Card: Padres or Rockies (pending outcome of the game tomorrow)

AL West: Angels
AL Central: Indians
AL East: Red Sox
AL Wild Card: Yankees

Matchups:

NLDS 1: Wild Card vs. Phillies
NLDS 2: Cubs vs. D-backs.

ALDS 1: Angels vs. Red Sox
ALDS 2: Yankees vs. Indians

I'm pulling for a Rockies/Indians series. And I do believe that the Rockies are going to win tomorrow. They've defied every odd so far, they're going to make this one as well.

GO ROCKIES!!!

..... Wow....

Yeah, that's pretty much anyone can say. 11 in a row. 11 in a fucking row. 76-72 to 87-72, one back in the Wild Card, two back in the division (My God, can we ever get any help?! 11 games won and we're still not in the lead?!) and the first unbeaten multi-city trip in franchise history. 10-4 brooming of the Dodgers, homers from Garrett, Brad (back to back in the fourth) and Todd (to provide a crucial insurance cushion, to 6-3 from 4-3). After that, my baby Brad came through again with a three-run double. And.... wow. We did it. We did it. We swept the Dodgers again and head home to what will be a packed, rollicking, screaming, and wildly supportive Coors Field for a season-ending showdown with the D-backs. Win 0 of 3 or 1 of 3, we're toast. Win 2 of 3, we tie for the division. Win 3 of 3, and we sweep, win the division outright, and finish with the NL's best record.

Let me repeat that. The Colorado Rockies, if sweeping the Arizona Diamondbacks at home this weekend, will finish with the National League West crown and the best record in the league.

Amazing. It gives me chills to think what Coors will be like this weekend. I wish I could be there. I wish. It will be an experience for a lifetime. For the first time ever, we have roared to life, we will have a sold-out crowd screaming deliriously for us, and the last three games will be fraught with meaning. We are not playing out our string. We could do this. We could.

So, I have a dilemma. The Mets are in free-fall. If the Phillies pass them and win the East, we don't have to worry about them in the Wild Card, and the Mets losing (and a few losses from the Padres, dammit... help us out, Brewers, and learn how to freakin' field, while you're at it) would substantially clear our path to the Wild Card. But, if the Mets somehow hang on and the Nats beat the Phillies and the Rox claim the WC (you think this is complicated, try reading the tiebreaker scenarios) then the Rox and Mets will play each other. Aside from being favorable for the Rox (Mets backing badly into the playoffs on a terrible swoon) it then means I would be able to go to an actual Rockies playoff game here in New York, probably with Mary and Steve (the latter would protect me from any too crazed fanatics). And yeah, I'd be booed mercilessly instead of being among a sea of purple brethren, but I don't care. I'd take it. I'd take it and more to see my Rockies, my deepest and most beloved Rockies, in a NLDS game. October baseball for all the chips.

Three days to go in the season and while the AL playoff spots are all sewn up (snore, I hate the AL, I can only hope the Indians get to the Series because any of the other entrants make me vomit) absolutely nothing is settled in the NL. We could be facing up to four days of tiebreakers.

And my Rox are, finally, enjoying a winning season. More than that, they are winners. They have an amazing camaraderie, they enjoy playing together, they enjoy winning together, and now, finally, they expect to and have shown us what they can accomplish. Even if they fall short, 2008 is going to be amazing.

I live for this.

Go Rockies.

What Does Not Kill You Will Make You Stronger

Jesus. H. Christ. It's 2:25 AM, I have class in seven hours that requires me to be awake again after six of them, and only now is my adrenaline high wearing off enough for me to think about sleep. What a crazy night. The Phillies lost to the Braves (good!) the Padres stunned the shockingly shitaceous Giants (fuck!) and the Rockies themselves just kept up the good times, logging a 9-7 win over the Dodgers for, coincidentally, their ninth straight win. And boy, did they do it in a wild, roller-coaster, completely draining way. Now that I've resigned myself to the fact I'm not going to get a lot of sleep tonight, it's time to put this down so hopefully it will be out of my head and I don't lie awake hyperventilating for another hour.

What. A Game. And as I say, whatever doesn't slay you must toughen your resolve for the playoff games (I BELIEVE!) that will come. By my (admittedly inexpert... c'mon, I go to a liberal arts school) calculations, the lead changed hands or the game was tied five times. Kaz Matsui got the scoring started; Sullivan hit a single, Matsui did as well, and both scored. Confused? I'm sure the Gameday operator was as well. It featured the Rockies running wild on Juan Pierre's joke of an arm in center and Russ Martin throwing a ball into center field. End result, both Sullivan and Matsui scored in what must have been a very bizarre play to score indeed. 2-0 is a good edge to jump out to, especially in a must-win game (they all are) against Brad Penny in a forbidding Chavez Ravine that has been brutally unkind (4-12) to the Rockies. But the rollercoaster had just gotten going.

Ubaldo Jimenez had been dominant against the Dodgers in two previous starts, but forgot his lucky charms tonight, allowing a two-run homer to Chin-Lung Hu. The very next inning, the Rockies pushed across two runs on a RBI single and a botched DP ball. In the bottom of the inning, James Loney cracked a three-run homer to put the Dodgers ahead 5-4 -- dizzy yet? It also featured the unusual combination of strikeout-double play-strikeout, as Martin struck out but beat the wild pitch to first. Andre Ethier lined into a double play which featured lightweight Cory Sullivan gunning Jeff Kent down at home to prevent him from scoring; Torrealba redeemed himself for letting Martin's ball get away with a perfect block of the plate. Then Andy LaRoche struck out, leaving Ryan Speier successfully having gotten four outs.

The next inning, Kaz (the Purple Dragon) and the Iceman swungeth for the Rockies yet again. Troy Tulowitzki, long may his godliness grace us, hit a two-run shot to left to push it to a 6-5 lead. Visibily pumped, Tulo skipped and punched the air as Rockies fans had orgasms and heart attacks simultaneously. After Scott Proctor hit Holliday in the seventh (making a successful return from oblique injury, he didn't hit any bombs, but got two singles) Helton got his third hit of the game (he smells the postseason and you can bet to hell he wants it) to make it 7-5. The cavernous drought that is Dodger Stadium's center field stole a three-run shot from Atkins (it was out of any park except the hitter's abattoirs known as the Ravine and Petco). Matt Herges, having already gotten through a successful sixth, did the same with the seventh.

Then the real heart attacks started, better known as the bottom of the eighth. Brian Fuentes threatened so badly to revert to June form, Hurdle actually thought about putting Julio in. (Thank GOD he did not). Fuentes allowed a run, walked the bases loaded twice, and then let Matt Kemp hit a low, slicing liner into center field. In any other year, any other day, perhaps, it would have dropped for a two-run single, devastating a two-run lead for the Rox into a one-run deficit. But not in this day, this age, this moment, this charmed season that perpetually hangs on the edge of a knife. Ryan Spilborghs made a sliding catch and saved it. More simultaneous heart attack/orgasms for Rox fans. I was pretty much dead by this point.

The Rockies went to the ninth. Torrealba doubled. Mr. Clutch, Spilborghs, came through with the insurance double, and Jamey Carroll, in as a defensive replacement for Atkins, cashed him in with a single. 9-6 going to the bottom of the ninth, and usually lights-out Manny Corpas wobbled, allowing a one-out solo jack to Delwyn Young, getting Martin to ground out on the first pitch, and then allowing a double to Andre Ethier.

I was rocking, whimpering, shaking, crossing my fingers, unable to stand up and totally drained by this point. I didn't know what he was going to do if Manny didn't get the next out -- but he did. Groundout. Game in the bag. And one totally exhausted, completely euphoric, never-did-finish-reading-her-politics-assignment-so-what fan, who almost collapsed in her computer chair and took a while to get up the focus to take a shower, much less anything else.

It's almost 3 AM. I'm still awake. As one of my friends reminded me, Rockies playoff race > everything else. I have taken up a 24-hour Rockies representation -- I have worn my Hawpe shirt for the past three days, and now I am sleeping in my Atkins shirt. Nine in a row ties the franchise record and leaves us still one behind the Padres (ARGH! FUCKING GIANTS! Try not sucking for once in your life! Goddammit! Yes, a lot of frustration here... we could have been tied if they'd just hung onto a 4-2 lead in the ninth!)

Peavy vs. Misch for the Pads/Giants tomorrow. That's bad. Fogg vs. Lowe for us, not great. Tim Hudson vs. Kyle Lohse for Braves/ Phillies, good. And not to mention... I believe. I do. I do. This is a Rockies team that is hot and hungry like you would not believe.

I have learned my lesson.

I will never doubt them again.

I may never sleep, either. Or get anything done in a timely fashion.

One thing I will not do is stop loving my Colorado Rockies. Ever.

GO ROCKIES!!!!!

Eight Straight

Holy shit, that's about all I can say. Everybody in the world, myself undoubtedly included, wrote the Rockies' obituary after they lost two of three to the Marlins to follow up a disappointing split in Philly, painful experiences that I am sure you are already well aware of if you've been following their season or reading this blog. And while Baseball Prospectus still puts their playoff odds at a disappointingly far-away 5%, what the Rockies have done defies explanation. They said they needed a sweep to be talked about at all, and a sweep they got. Their convincing 7-3 victory today featured an absolutely ace-like performance on the back of Jeff Francis (8 innings, 7 hits, 2 runs, 8 K) to improve to 17-8 and tie Kevin Ritz and Pedro Astacio (yes, he's following a dubious precedent) for the all-time franchise single-season victory rotal. Adding to the oddity was an inside-the-park-homer from Garrett "Fankles" Atkins, whose sprinting lumber barely beat the throw home after Cameron and Bradley collided on his deep flyball to center, and Brad Hawpe turning into Mad Hawpiday after Mad Mattie MVP had to sit out (boo!) for the second straight day with an oblique strain. After having the game-winning homer in fourteen innings, he followed it up with a 4-for-4 performance in the middle game of the series and another multi-RBI performance, and another HR, today. So proud of my boys I could burst -- and I will be wearing my Hawpe shirt around SLC for the foreseeable future.

Speaking of which, doing my homework on Sports Sunday (football and baseball, the Rockies won and the Broncos got their asses kicked by the Jaguars) didn't work so well. Good thing I already read Adam Smith, now I was supposed to read Karl Polanyi as a counterpoint, and now I really should be in bed since I have a busy day tomorrow (politics lecture, neuropsych class, Mets game with Mary and Steve YAY) but I'm staying up late talking to my friends, reveling in the Rockies' glory (84-72, 1.5 back of the WC, 8 wins in a row) and trawling laboriously through page by page of Polanyi and really getting worried that it will not be done in time. Who cares?! The Rockies rule!

Oh man. My love for my sports teams is going to get me into so much trouble. But it's amazing the way you can feel for them. At the close of the Rockies game today, I cried. It was in joy, in disbelief, in hope, perhaps, relief, gratitude for them for giving me this ride and this amazing resiliency and talent. This team is for real. I love them deeply enough to forego homework, and if you know me, you know that's something.

They begin their final six games of the season -- three against the Dodgers starting on Tuesday, three at home against the D-backs -- with a chance to stun everybody and complete this comeback. And you know what? I believe they can. There is no quit in them. It's time. They can. And that's what a fan's prerogative is. I can't let go of them, not now and not ever.

Go Rockies. Yours forever.

Don't Stop Believin'

Cue the Journey. I wrote their epitaph, and yet... it has gone down to the wire. It may be. I can believe. 3.5 back of the Padres with 8 games remaining to play. A dramatic 14th-inning victory against the Friars culminating with Brad Hawpe's 27th HR of the year, hit off a lefty, as he did all the offensive lifting and Matt Herges closed it after Manny Corpas blew his first save since July. Baseball is amazing and unpredictable and I love this game and my Colorado Rockies forever, no matter how this ends. That is all.

In Which Some Goes Wrong and More Goes Right

The Rockies confound me. Not that I think they'll really make the playoffs, that coffin was pretty much nailed shut by the disastrous umpiring and Jeff Francis's horrible start in Philadelphia, and their playoff odds currently stand at an oh-so-overwhelming 2.5%. After struggling to a split in the City of (Not-So) Brotherly Love, they went home and promptly lost two of three to the Marlins, who entered the series 20 games south of .500 to pretty much put the kibosh on any talk of pulling out a last-minute wild card. Then they faced their direct combatants in the standings, the Dodgers, who entered a four-game series at Coors (making up for a July rainout, the teams played a doubleheader last night) with a 13% chance of making the playoffs. So if the Rockies couldn't make the playoffs themselves, at least they could spoil it for the Dodgers, who have confounded them all season and have been responsible for their fair share of purple-and-black woe.

The Rox won the first game of the doubleheader in traditional fashion -- a strong performance from ace Francis (winning his 16th game of the season to tie for the franchise record, and setting a personal best of 10 strikeouts -- one-upping his 9-K performance from June 20 against the Yankees). They got RBIs from big man Matt Holliday and Todd Helton, and Brian Fuentes the much-maligned and the amazing Manny Corpas finished off the game by retiring the final six Dodgers batters in order. (Manny is 15-for-15 in save chances since taking over for Fuentes, who is fine as a setup guy but completely lacks the bulldog mentality needed to finish off save chances, especially in tough situations). This is a very patchwork bullpen showing signs of fatigue and overuse -- Matt Herges lost his rabbit foot and pixie dust, probably in unison, to explain his sudden nose-dive, and Affeldt has an ERA over 6.00 since the All-Star Break. Julio was serviceable earlier, even good, but the grind of the season caught up with him as well and he's now giving up runs like a sieve every time he's out there. Four or five months' worth of rest will be good for everyone, my mental state included. Boy, it's hard rooting for (and watching the hijinks of) this team day in and day out, but hey, it's not like I'm going to stop now.

Game 2, the nightcap, was far more dramatic, a thrilling, agonizing, and ultimately glorious see-saw of a battle. Fill-in starter Mark Redman naturally permitted three first-inning runs before the Rockies roared out of the gate against David Wells and got them right back to tie it at 3. Redman wasn't content in that state and had to turn it into a deficit again; the Rox went down 4-3 and stayed that way until the bottom of the fifth, in which Mad Matt Holliday struck again. After being rewarded for his insane play (six homers in seven days, 11 RBI) by being named the NL Player of the Week for the second time this season (at least he now has an extra luxury watch to give as a present) he went out and did it again, bashing a no-doubt moonshot of a two-run homer to edge the Rockies ahead to 5-4.

The lead didn't last long. Herges, now notably lacking his lucky charms and/or lucky underwear, immediately permitted a game-tying homer to James Loney in the top of the sixth. After he allowed the next two batters to reach via walk and single, Affeldt came in and managed to get two outs, falsely raising hopes that he would get out of it unscathed. Not so; the man is a former Kansas City Royal, after all. He coughed up a two-run triple to Tony Abreu, yanking the Dodgers up 7-5, and while the damage was minimized (for that inning, at least) it wasn't a good sign. Every game, as mentioned, is now must-win territory for the Rockies, and they've made it very hard on themselves by consistently losing to teams they should beat, while confoundingly beating teams they should lose to. In fact, they seem to play to the level of their competition -- they can look insipid, lifeless, and flat while dropping 3 of 4 to the Nationals (getting shut out in each of their losses) only to turn around and score 34 runs in the course of a three-game sweep of the Mets. It happens all the time. Some teams' fans look forward to the cupcake portion of their schedule, yet we as Rockies fans actually want them to be facing the stronger teams since they seem to play better when they do.

But never mind the digression. Jorge Julio came in for one inning, miraculously escaped, and then for some bewildering reason (he's already overworked and ineffective) was left out for a second one. He promptly yielded a solo shot to All-Star catcher Russell Martin to stretch the deficit to 8-5 going to the bottom of the eighth, and the Rockies had a tough task ahead of them in trying to crack Jonathan Broxton and Takashi Saito. Broxton has been solid as a setup man for the Bastards in Blue, and closer Saito's numbers are unworldly -- before last night, 39 for 42 in save chances, a 1.21 ERA, four homers permitted all year, and five games, and five saves, against the Rockies, who were 0-for-14 against him. You shall soon see the point of this numerology, but in the meantime...

The Rockies started the bottom of the eighth on a high note when Garrett Atkins fought off seven pitches and cracked a clean single to center. Then Ryan Spilborghs the super-sub stepped up and followed with his third hit of the night -- this one just happened to leave the yard and push the Rockies to within 8-7. Unfortunately, they couldn't get more that inning, as pinch-hitters Brad Hawpe and Yorvit Torrealba struck out, and after a quick and clean top of the ninth from a suddenly rejuvenated Ryan Speier, they headed to the bottom of the frame down one run against an elite closer who'd owned them all year.

Omar Quintanilla hit a hard shot, but unfortunately right at Saito, who snagged it for the first out. Troy Tulowitzki was called out on a questionable strike for the second out, leaving the bases empty and the Rockies down to their last gasp. But they had the big men coming up -- there was still a hope, even faint and flickering, and Holliday's fourth hit of the game, a sharp single to right, brought up Todd Helton, who's playing meaningful games in September for the first time in his long and illustrious career. Despite hitting well through the stretch, he had been 0-4 that night with a rally-killing double play, and his power numbers have taken a swan dive in general -- he only had 14 HR coming up to that at-bat.

Saito started with a ball; Helton fouled off pitches twice before lighting into one of Saito's nasty sliders and sending it over the scoreboard in right field, keeling Coors into delirium and Todd sprinting around the bases like a kid in little league. As he rounded third and headed for the plate, he ripped off his helmet, let out a roar of jubilation, and stage-dived into a mob of ecstatic teammates who hopped up and down, hugged, and thumped madly -- I have never seen Helton, the reserved veteran, so absolutely psyched. He'd just hit 300 career homers earlier, but No. 301 had to top them all -- it was a moment that Holliday, who jumped in the air and pumped both fists as the ball left the yard, said he'd never forget. It was an amazing finish, almost as great as their comeback on my birthday, an amazing moment for a veteran who's ground through so many disappointing and empty Septembers, to hit one that meant so much.

My sister was at this game with our friend Betsy (I have never been so jealous) and she said the atmosphere was amazing. Everyone was screaming, leapt to their feet when the ball left the yard, and she said she hugged Betsy, high-fived a complete stranger, and did a little dance as she was leaving -- the crowd roared and treated Helton to his second career curtain call, the other coming earlier this week. Outside the stadium, people were yelling, screaming, high-fiving as well -- if nothing else, even if this year closes like all the other ones, it is not the same. The Rockies have proven what this nucleus has the capability to do, and they have gotten the city of Denver to fall in love with them again. It has been (and still is) Broncos country for so very long that the Rockies, once they stopped being the new thing in town, failed to draw 60,000+ a night, and started all the abysmal seasons, were an afterthought, occasionally parodied or despaired by an ever-dwindling fanbase. But the city is genuinely excited about and in love with its baseball team again, and that just makes me so happy -- the thought of all this gives me the chills. Ah, September. Fall baseball. It's a beautiful thing.

On another Rockies note, as we thank the guys for this great season and eagerly anticipate 2008, the team has announced their intention to try super-prospect Ian Stewart at second base. I, for one, am fully behind this idea. The one (well, actually, two) problems being a) Stewart hasn't played second base since Little League, and b) at 6-3 and 215 lbs, is a big guy and only getting bigger. If he actually did make the conversion, he'd be the biggest 2B in the league, beating out Jeff Kent (6-2, 210) by an inch and five pounds. Although this probably isn't going to work, I find myself rooting very hard for it to somehow come through. First, it would give us an in-house solution to the second base vacancy, as Kaz Matsui may or may not be re-signed, and secondly, it would allow us to keep Garrett Atkins' bat. Atkins' defense at third is an iffy proposition, and since he's a natural first baseman, you'd have two defenders out of position in the infield -- Atkins at third and Stewart at second. However, the infield would have absolutely astronomic offensive totals (Helton-Stewart-Tulowitzki-Atkins is a serious helping of firepower) and would find a way to accommodate Helton, Stewart, and Atkins at once, which otherwise isn't possible; Atkins or Helton would have to be traded this off-season.

I regularly defend Atkins (or at least his offense, as his defense makes me roll my eyes too) and it's important to note that .290/23/103 is not chump change. Stewart replicating that in his rookie season would be a feat for the ages (not everyone is Tulowitzki here, people ;) ) and for next year at least, there would be a significant offensive drop-off with a still-aging Helton and a newbie Stewart. While Ian is certainly capable of this production, it may not come for a few years, and by that time, Holliday will have hit free agency and the Devil will have garnered him some insane contract with a high-profile East Coast team. If the Rockies really want to compete, 2008 and 2009 may be their best shots to do so if they keep the talented nucleus intact. They still need all that offensive cannonade as long as they keep playing in Denver and their pitchers hiccup accordingly, humidor or not, and there is no doubt Atkins knows how to hit. Damn, this Stewart-at-second is such a pipe dream... but please work. Please?

The other drum I must beat regards the candidacy of Matt Holliday and Troy Tulowitzki for Most Valuable Player and Rookie of the Year awards. If they don't win, or at least finish in the top three, then it's a blatant act of highway robbery that yet again focuses on the popular markets instead of actual talent. The field of potential winners is deep, there is an elite crop of talent to deal with this year, but the numbers stack up every which way (and Tulo should get a Gold Glove as well, leading his position in fielding metrics).

Matt Holliday (season to date)
AB: 597
H: 202
BA: .338
HR: 33
R: 109
RBI: 126
OBP: .400
SLG: .601
OPS: 1.001
2B: 48
3B: 5

That is a monster season. Those numbers you see are good for first in the NL for batting average and RBI, third for slugging percentage, fourth for homers, OPS, runs, and eighth in on-base percentage. Not to mention that he's drastically improved his defense in left field. He leads the NL with 281 putouts, ranks third with a .990 fielding percentage (three errors in 291 chances) and second with a .912 zone rating, which measures how many balls a fielder is able to get to. If you don't believe me, just check out all the defensive video highlights he has this year -- it used to be all homers and they skated over the iffy fielding stats. He is a complete player, not at all a product of Coors (and that drives me nuts. How about bandboxes like Cincinnati, Arlington, and Philadelphia -- where Holliday hit four homers? Do those somehow count less?) You'd think, and yet people discount Rockies players out of hand because they play in Denver. Take a look at the numbers, people. Holliday received the most votes by his fellow players to the All-Star Game. They know what a wrecking ball he is, even if the fans at large haven't caught on yet.

And as for Tulo, his chief competition appears to be Ryan Braun, who has him beat in precisely two categories, home runs (30 to 21) and batting average (.323 to .295). Everywhere else, the numbers point to Tulo in a walk. He has more doubles (27 to 22) more runs scored (89 to 78) more RBIs (89 to 83) and half as many errors. Tulo has been a catalyst for the team after starting sub-Mendoza, set the NL record for homers by a rookie shortstop, and plays Gold Glove-worthy defense. His howitzer of an arm leads to regular swollen thumbs for first baseman Helton, and he can hit 90 with regularity on blistering throws from deep in the hole; it's just a joy to watch him play. Braun's defense, by comparison, can charitably be rated as poor. He has 22 errors, a sub-.900 fielding percentage, and achieves the difficult task of making Atkins (13 errors) look like Brooks Robinson. BBWAA writers, and ROY voters, love the surface offensive numbers, and it's true that Braun can mash like nobody's business and came up on May 25, instead of starting the season like Tulo has. However, if you want to rate the complete player, the true sparkplug and young star of a contending team, it's Tulo. And I'm not even saying this because of my permanent purple-colored glasses (or maybe I am). Troy puts in tremendous work each and every day, will go above and beyond the pale to get a win, and refuses to settle for losing or mediocrity. Simply put, he's the fire and inspiration the Rockies have been lacking for so long, and deserves to be rewarded for it.

I know this has been a long post already, but I would like to close by noting that since I am unable to attend Rockies games (clearly) I have made up (sort of) for the lack by attending two games, one Mets and one Yankees, since my return to school. (I will also be going to either one or two Mets games next week). Both times I went with a guy friend, and I tell you... I've been generally indifferent about the Mets, but the Yankees are seriously enough to make me almost actively like them. I can root for the Mets without feeling unclean (and I had to, since the one game I was at, they were playing Philly, and lost anyway.... the Mets are following the 2006 Cardinals script for the postseason by choking and threatening to squander it all before backing into the playoffs). The Yankees and their fans, however, are all such douchebags. They have an astounding arrogance and ignorance, strut around like they own the place (yeah, yeah, we've already heard about your 26 fucking championships, want to talk about the years since you've won your last one? 2004, for example? God, I hope there's a Curse of A-Rod or something that will prevent them from winning for another 79 years... such poetic justice, they could suffer through every inch of the agony that the Red Sox did).

I went to the Yankees/Orioles games with my friend Nick, and while we admittedly asked for it by sitting in the bleachers, the fans sang "Why Are You Gay?" to him to the tune of "YMCA," and incessantly chanted, "Ug-ly shirt!" pointing at his Jeremy Guthrie T-shirt. (I was wearing my Rox stuff -- Atkins shirt, Rockies jacket and hat, and was hoping so very much that they'd heckle me about rooting for a bad team, but they probably don't even remember that the Rockies exist, and maybe had enough sense to realize that I could, you know, point out that we swept them). Don't get me wrong, both of us found the heckling very amusing, but only in the way you find an irretrievably stupid person funny; because they just think they know so much and know actually nothing at all. Perhaps it's a rite of passage, but they are stupid, aggressively stupid, and strut around like they're still the kings of the world. The late-90's Yankees dynasty has passed, people, and besides, you root for the Evil Empire/Chevy/GMC of baseball, headed by an asshole owner and fronted by a calvacade of "twenty-five guys/twenty-five cabs" overpaid primadonnas. Oooh. Don't get me onto the topic of the Yankees, clearly; there is so much hatred here. Don't try to justify liking the Yankees to me. I understand that you're from New York so they're your hometown team, and they win a lot and it's fun to root for a winner, but that's it. And what about all the Yankees "fans" that have never even been to NY? They don't have an excuse at all. They are shameless front-runners, and should be ritually crucified as a warning to all others. (Same goes for non-resident Red Sox and Cubs fans as well. Besides, I don't even get why you'd want to root for the Cubs if you were from Chicago, much less anywhere else. See my diatribe against Cubs fans below).

In contrast, the Mets seem like more fun, have a few players that I could even like, and even though planes roar overhead every half-hour, their much-maligned Shea is less of a dump than the historic but shitty Stadium. Not that I'm going to suddenly start rooting for them, but if you had to make me pick a sports team from my adopted home state with a gun to my head, I'd take the Mets in a (New York) minute. I'm looking forward to going with Mary and possibly Steve (remember them?) next week, and will probably clap for the Mets since a) I'll be in Shea anyway, and b) who the hell wants to cheer for the Nationals? Even those from D.C.? Seriously.

Okay. Long post over. I feel a little better now. Or maybe I don't. I hate the Yankees. Oh well. I fiercely adore my Rockies, even though they shave years off my life, inflate my blood pressure, and ruin my emotional state, and so that shall do. Josh Fogg vs. Brad Penny tonight (Fogg always seems to draw the toughest assignment from the opposing team) as the Rockies try to find their oft-missing killer instinct and put the finishing smackdown on the Dodgers.

Go Rox!

An Interesting Phenomenon Is Observed

Less than twenty-four hours after the brutal, backbreaking, extra-innings loss to the Phillies that most probably ended the Rockies' fledgling postseason ambitions, here I am, watching the second game of the series, Franklin Morales vs. Adam Eaton. I will probably be even watching tomorrow's game as well, which features the hair-raising fact of Denny Bautista taking the ball to inaugurate a "bullpen" start. Mark Redman, All-Star, will probably be in there as well (it can't be this cold in New York, it's still warm and unpleasantly sticky, so that must have been the freezing breath of foreboding).

I am in a neuropsychology class. You think I could read my brain books and find out what's wrong, right?

Weird.

Also.... Whatever your opinion of the political skullduggery, partisan mud-throwing, and general incompetence and turmoil that followed the terrible events of that Tuesday six years previously, the fact remains that the events themselves have, indeed, been catastrophic and life-shattering for everyone involved. The war, the grim outlook, the rampant xenophobia, the fact that you can’t board an airplane without five hours of TSA scrutiny and signing, the equally repugnant posturing on both sides, and well.... a lot of things, and a lot of innocence, broke on that day. Please offer your prayers, or whatever your personal spirituality is, to those who lost friends and loved ones in the attacks.

Pretty Much Just Shock and Disbelief Here, Folks

Rockies season: April 2, 2007 -- September 10, 2007.

Ended later than most. Was lots of fun along the way. Nice job, fellas. Love you dearly, except for Hurdle, Barmes, Julio, and Affeldt.

Requiescat in Pacem.

Life (School) & Life (Rockies)

Everything has gone swimmingly at the outset of the new school year, ever since my belowmentioned trip from hell. I got the classes I wanted, which are: a politics lecture (The Legitimacy of Modernity) a psychology seminar (Narrative Neuropsychology, which is so interesting that I've already read about half my course texts voluntarily) and a writing workshop. It wasn't my first choice, but it'll be interesting anyway; it focuses on the craft and art of writing as much as the actual act, and features four novels to be read and analyzed, which is just fine with me; I'm starved for new reading material (one of the reasons I tore into my psych books like a ravening wolf) and look forward to having a new professor offer perspective on my work. Classes started today, and I am as happy as the proverbial pig in slop. I got up with no complaints at 8:30 (which I generally consider too early) to trot off to my politics lecture, and really enjoyed the first day of studying. Around 4 pm, after I'd finished with both my lecture and my seminar, I found myself in the library, happily reading Hobbes' Leviathan and taking notes about it from the discussion questions. I am the very rare breed of college student who actually enjoys studying (although I suppose that's easy to say at the start of semester, and my assiduousness will probably go down as time goes on) but I am thrilled to be back in the swing of things.

Now, about my Rox.... Pretty much every day is do-or-die time for them in the stretch run, the first time September baseball has mattered since 1995 (coincidentally, their last postseason appearance). Even Todd Helton's annual milestone (in this case, his 35th double for the tenth straight season... the only player to ever do that, congratulations) was relegated to a footnote by the fact that the team is still in the chase. By beating the Padres 2 of 3, including one game in which they used a franchise-record 10 pitchers (and won 10-4) and one game in which they won at Coors with four hits or less for the first time in their history (fortunately, two of the hits were homers, one by Atkins and one by Holliday) they have positioned themselves 3 back in the Wild Card with 20 to play and open a four-game set with the Phillies tonight. The Phils are one game ahead of them, so with a series victory, the Rockies could establish themselves as a down-to-the-wire contender and seriously make the NL wild-card race a last-second affair. There is no drama in the AL, as the Yankees, Angels, and Red Sox have their spots sewn up (heeerurgh, the only AL entrant I can root for is the Indians) but the NL figures to be interesting, especially the wild wild West and the fact that we have to start worrying about giant flaming balls of fire if the Cubs get anywhere. Despite their meteoric plummet, the Brewers are still in first by the skin of their teeth, but they need to do the world a favor and save it from the destruction that would occur if the other Chicago entry became world champs.

The Mets look to have their second consecutive East crown under their belts, but nothing else is certain in the NL. Far more interesting, I like the Senior Circuit better anyway, and everything is still in flux. The Central, West, and wild card could literally be decided on the last day of the season, and I'm rooting for the NL in the postseason anyway; I'm tired of AL arrogance, stupid rules (DH) and dominance. There is no one NL likely entrant that I hate with the bloody vitriol I reserve for the Terrible Trio entering on the AL half, so I'll just have to hope that my support (yeah, like that's the deciding factor) will spur the NL on to victory.... Unless.... Oh my god, what if it's Cubs/Yanks, Cubs/Sox, or something equally awful? My head will explode. I don't mind the Mets, but living in NY, I expect I'd get tired of hearing about them. At least my friends who are Mets fans will be happy, and it would rub the Yankees' face in the fact that the city is holding a championship parade NOT FOR THEM, and it's been seven whole years since they won the Big One. (Oh, please let them never win it again. A-Rod, Giambi, Farnsworth, and Damon preening with a championship ring would make me lose my lunch).

There is one other thing which I'm noting in particular this year, and that is that the umpiring is worse than ever. Recently, the box on Gameday which denotes the strike zone has disappeared, and this has come on the heels of several players and managers airing their (warranted) frustration with the abysmal standard that the calls have dropped to. Baseball is the only major sport in which the referee is directly involved with every play, and the umps have been a constant source of antagonism this year. If one hothead player on one hard-luck team is letting out some dirty laundry, you can't take him seriously, but when a number of veteran players on contending teams are expressing their displeasure with the works (Chipper Jones being the most recent example to come to mind) it's time for MLB to take a look at the situation. I don't care about hurting umps' feelings, QuesTec has to be installed in parks to further accountability. I don't care about the baseball purists who grumble that it takes the human element out of the game to have a machine recording balls and strikes -- baseball is a game that evolves with the time and no need to keep it in the Abner Doubleday era when consistent mistakes are being made. You can bet that with some umps, it's a power thing, showing up the batter and pitcher, and authority complexes make for difficult people to deal with. I want the strike zone in the book, not that as interpreted by a forty-pounds-overweight egomaniac who can be more concerned with ensuring everyone knows he's in charge. I'm sure they do know. I'm fairly sure that the disappearance of the strike zone on Gameday came at the request of the umpires' union, because I can't think of any other reason it would, and this makes me think that they know they aren't cutting it.... it pisses me off.

Watching this Rockies/Phillies game is going to give me heart failure. All things considered, the Rockies have exactly six losses left this season if they want to win the Wild Card, and they used one of them on Saturday, spoiling a 8-inning, 2-run performance by Jeff Francis, so everything is in must-win territory now. They went up 5-2 in the top of the seventh on the back of a monstrous two-run shot by Holliday off their former problem Jose Mesa, but then their current problems Hawkins, Affeldt, and Julio combined to give up three runs on a backbreaking homer by Pat Burrell. Then, with the winning run in scoring position with two outs in the eighth, Hurdle let Omar Quintanilla, who hadn't gotten the ball out of the infield all night, hit; the result was predictable. Hurdle is pulling out the idiot stops tonight, further proving why he is unsuited to manage in big games and that the pressure of a pennant race isn't something that he can cope with, having dealt with mediocre to flat-out awful teams during his four-year tenure. This will likely be the last season that he has such a talented nucleus intact, as the Monforts' skinflintedness will mean that one of Atkins, Hawpe, or Helton will probably be moved in the offseason (with likely money on Atkins in addition to Brian Fuentes. So sad... I really like Atkins). And we get him until 2009? Joy.

More bad umpiring. 3-1 on Hawpe, two on, top of the ninth, two outs. The first call was questionable, but the second call was nowhere close; Wally Bell called the exact same pitch a ball on Utley before the Burrell home run. The count goes to 3-2 when Hawpe should have walked to load the bases, and he grounds out instead to end the inning. This umpiring is making me sick.

The slender thread of hope may be waning, but it's still there... at least my boys still are playing meaningful games in September. Go Rockies...

Travels and Travails

One of those dreaded updates in which I veer into real life.... (Well, just for reference, the Rockies won both before and after my cross-country flight from hell, which was very considerate of them. Now, about the aforementioned flight from hell and the commencement of my sophomore year...)

So basically, everything that could go wrong on my trip back to school did so. I had to leave Colorado on a 11:55 pm flight on September 2nd in order to make it back in time for registration on September 3rd. Naturally, I got to the airport with plenty of time -- 10 pm, so I had almost two hours in which to satisfy the TSA with all the necessary bag-checking/security scanning/waiting etc. Then, for some reason, they inform me that the flight is oversold and I, of all people, have to go standby. Aside from the fact that I don't have a clue where they got that, as I have had a confirmed reservation for about two months, this freaked me out since there was no way I was able to miss the flight -- I had to get a connector in Philly and head onwards for NY, and being late or re-routing was not in the program. So I, uh, implored insistently for them to make sure I got on the plane. After the ordeal of watching everyone else with confirmed seats who had not gotten stand-by (stand-byed?) get on the plane, I was allowed to board and dashed down the jetway; I got hung up at the end of the queue but ended up in a window seat anyway.

Flight out of Denver wasn't much; just long, dark, uncomfortable since as you know there is no leg room in economy class on commercial airlines. My rear end got numb, I shifted vainly to find a feasible position, and my headphones kept fritzing out and annoying the heck out of me since only one side would play. I got to Philadelphia around 5:15 am ET, wandered around a largely deserted suburban airport, killed time, ate an unremarkable sandwich, and finally boarded my connector to New York, a small (and noisy) turboprop jet, but even this was not free of drama; for some reason, my boarding pass apparently showed that I hadn't paid for the ticket (WTF?) and while desperately convincing the airport attendant that I wasn't a crook or a terrorist so she would let me stay on the plane, she took my Frontier claim checks to prove that I had had another boarding pass (and, presumably, a paid ticket). When this snafu was over, we were finally on our way to LaGuardia. The damn turboprop was so loud that I couldn't hear myself think, and the only good thing about this flight was that it was short and we were soon descending into New York. I got off the plane normally, headed for the baggage claim, and of course, my luggage had failed to make the trip with me. Seeing as it was the first time this had happened to me, combined with everything else, I was on the hairy edge of freaking out and paced back and forth by the carrousel muttering obscenities as it failed, and failed, and failed to appear.

Once I had determined that my bags had in fact pulled a vanishing act on me, I managed to control my panic and get to the baggage service office, conveniently located right alongside the carrousels for flustered travelers such as myself. One of my bags miraculously turned up in the hold area, so I just had to go through the teeth-pulling business of filing a missing-bag report minus a claim check. Fortunately, the guy at LaGuardia was really helpful and promised to get my bag delivered once it turned up. White slip in hand, I sallied forth to the bus stop, waited for a while since I'd missed the bus I was originally scheduled for, and then departed for Grand Central. At least, this was the plan, and we spent a while caught in airport deadlock before actually moving. Nothing, at least, went wrong here, and I headed into the terminal, checked the schedule like a New Yorker without needing to ask when the next train to Bronxville was, and wasted some time until it departed at 11:23 am.

When I got there, I hauled my assorted heavy bags up a hill, in the hot sunshine, to school and arrived very tired and ready to just sit down for a while. I had to go through registration, get my packets, room keys, meal plans, etc. Then, with all my stuff safely sequestered in my new room (a single, loads of character, more on that in a minute) I headed back out across campus to find my friends. I was able to fall into their arms for big hugs and bitch about my bad flight, which was very nice; I was so happy to see them. I ran to Bronxville and bought some things, spent about freaking $100, and was able to finish (mostly) unpacking, before crashing around 11 pm; I looked at the clock, thought, "Oh wow, I haven't slept in 36 hours," and fell into bed.

I was woken up around 7:30 by my cell phone ringing, missed it the first time, thought it was the room phone, and was just about to go back to bed when it rang again. I answered, very sleepily, and was informed by SLC security that I had a cab waiting. When I expressed ignorance as to why a cab would be there, he amended that it was a suitcase delivery, and I almost fainted in relief. I scuttled down the twisty spiral staircase of my new dorm in pajamas and flip-flops, waited outside for the delivery, and then hauled it back UP aforementioned twisty spiral staircase. I yanked the extra pillow out of it and went back to bed, slept for another two hours, and when my alarm went off at 9:30, I first reset it and then decided that my fabulous day of faculty interviews could hang on for a bit; I was so sleepy that I just lay in bed and dozed for a while as another beautiful day matriculated outside. Once I was done regaining my senses, I rolled out, got dressed, and headed off to get my course schedule approved and in order.

At SLC, you interview professors before signing up for their courses, so naturally I spent the last leg of my 36 hours without sleep picking out all my courses and writing down all the pertinent information. My schedule, if I get what I want, is: Narrative Neuropsychology (a fascinating-looking psych course) The Legitimacy of Modernity (a political science lecture course) and a fiction workshop, which, of course, is the reason I am at SLC in the first place. Hopefully I get them all, as students are placed into at least one of their first choices and sometimes have to settle for alternates if all the spaces in their desired classes are full. I need the lecture course for requirements, so I'll probably get it, and I asked the psychology professor to place me on the priority list, so I'm guessing I get two. Hopefully. I'm excited and look forward to resuming my studies. Yes, I am weird like that.

My new room is also excellent. Apart from being located at the top of a staircase that would do some old Victorian proud (very steep, very twisty) it has wood floors, slanted roofs, a four-paneled bay window that I can sit in, and strange angles. I have papered the walls with all my Rockies photos, pennants, tickets, and cards, and since I am the only one in the room and don't have to contend with roommates (hurrah!) I am free to go to town with my fanaticism and I did. I'll probably take pictures eventually, as I have a mother and several friends asking to see where exactly I am living for the next year. There is a large Rockies sticker and this photo on the door, and inside is equally plastered with assorted purple, black, and silver tokens of my love. What the hell. At least the boys considerately won for me yesterday, kicking Matt Cain's ass in the process (always satisfying) which I needed after the hijinks of my travel arrangements.

Now that my suitcase is home and all I need to do is trust the post office to safely convey my boxes to me (I shipped them parcel post a week ago, and weekends/Labor Day/post office transfers will take extra time, so I'm not too worried) I'm really happy to be back at SLC in all my places and spaces, with my friends and my interests, ready to get back into classwork and get a few part-time jobs to supplement my always unfortunately-dwindling income. In addition to designing posters for College Events, I'll most likely get a job at the Bronxville Starbucks (I heard that if you have experience, they hire you, and I'm already trained and whatnot). Future reaffirmed, sophomore year begun, excitement high, here we go, and return you to your regularly scheduled Rockies blogging. Thank you.

A Birthday Blast

Well, you know, the general Rockies-related news recently has not been that inspiring, to say the least, as they fell on their face and lost 3 of 4 to the Pirates. Yet again, they've put their own backs against the wall and need some kind of miracle run to get back into contention -- with the D-backs appearing to have a stranglehold on the division, it looks as if the only way the Rockies will taste that playoff savor is if they somehow make a sustained push for the wild card and leapfrog all the teams logjammed ahead of them. As I have noted previously, I am not sure that this will happen, but I'd settle for a winning season at this point. Still, all I wanted for my birthday was for them to win, especially since I had been planning to attend a game on this day ever since the beginning of the summer, when I discovered Gillian's friend's father could aid us in getting prime free tickets. (The last time we used them was on May 30 against the Cardinals, but we've had this game on the schedule since I came home from school. In other words, high expectations).

Well, for starters, yesterday was my 19th birthday and I had an excellent time. Got a day off from work, got to sleep in, then got up and enjoyed a nice morning. I was briefly shanghaied into being used as brute labor by my mother, who had to haul a load of books to the middle school (and just stepping into that building made me unspeakably grateful that I am a college student). Then I picked up my sister, and we headed down the hill to spend an hour or so at the Colorado Mills mall, where we lustfully eyed assorted Rockies paraphernalia in the hundred or so sports stores (no, we don't have a problem at all). We ate pretzels, wandered into accessories stores, bickered like, well, siblings (but all in good fun) and then departed for Coors Field. Upon arrival, we headed straight to the Diamond Dry Goods store, where I was given $100 ($80 from parents/sister and $20 from aunt/uncle) to pick out my birthday presents. I ended up picking out a light jacket, a blanket, an autographed baseball (well, not real, but it has copies of the whole team's signatures on it, and Gillian and I spent quite a while trying to decipher who was who) and a pennant; I now have so much Rockies stuff, which will be posted in my dorm room, that it's rather ridiculous. Someone will walk in and go, "Uh... you don't like the Rockies, by any chance?" I'll go, "No, really, how'd you guess? What tipped you off -- the two pennants, the flag, the stickers, the posters, the tickets, the photos, the blanket, the ball, the cap, the jersey, the shirts -- " At which point they will tune out and contemplate how sane, exactly, I am to be rooting for this team, which is something I myself indulge in on occasion. I am looking forward so much to getting back to NY and having my own space, filled with all my stuff, mementos of things I love and an awesome summer. :)

Still, after the shopping was concluded, Gillian and I headed to the sidelines along the first-base side. We had theorized that the combination of a) the Nationals b) the Rockies sliding recently, and c) a weekday night would lead to rather less autograph-seekers than there usually are, in which we were correct. We were hanging out, still trying to work out who was who on the ball, when guess who? -- Jason Hirsh showed up. I was very surprised to see him, as he's still on the DL, and hadn't expected him to be kabitzing around Coors on such a pretty late-August evening. Sure enough, however, there he was in the flesh; you know that he's one of my favorites and I was planning to ask him to sign my ticket "Happy Birthday." When he actually got to us, I chickened out and handed it to Gillian to ask him instead; she did, he did just that and wished me happy birthday, I asked him how it was going, he said it was good, and I stood there grinning like an idiot as he moved on down the line, patiently answering questions about when he's going to get off the DL (for the record, Jason thinks it'll be a few weeks). Then Jamey Carroll, the other frequent signer, showed up (and I swear he has to know us, or at least recognize us, by now, with all the time we spend down there). He also wished me a happy birthday, and by this point we didn't have much time left before the game. We watched the usual suspects come out and warm up, a routine that is always amusing because a) Tulo runs like a pigeon, and b) Atkins has his own personal stretcher guy who maneuvers him into various uncomfortable-looking positions while Gillian and I snigger. And assorted sundry other amusements, but we got back to our seats (sixteen rows back, Section 132) with plenty of time.

It is worth noting that the "amusements" included the fact that it was "80's Night," and all the Rockies' scoreboard mugshots had been doctored to alter their appearance to the best (worst?) of the eighties. I fortunately managed to get photos of most of them (up later) but they were, shall we say, most amusing. Some of the highlights included: Tulo sporting a sweatband and a 'fro paired with a poofy orange bomber jacket, Atkins transformed into a unibrowed monstrosity adorned with a sunflower, Holliday turned into a truly revolting used-car-salesman type with a combover and a porno-stache, Hawpe given flowing brown dreadlocks and a sleeveless top, and Helton rocking the big hair with a penguin suit. (Stewart had a mullet and a golden jumpsuit, while Spilly had long shaggy bangs. Extremely amusing). Also, it is a discovery of some interest that Jeff Francis somewhat resembles Atkins while wearing what appears to be an orange toilet plunger on his head -- what this intimates for either party concerned, I shall refrain from speculating. Still, most funny, and I'll post the photos in a subsequent entry.

The game got underway, Jeff Francis (in the first inning at least) seemed determined to suck, and after Tulo helpfully chipped in an RBI single in the bottom half of said inning, the offense went AWOL. They left runners on third with one out two innings in a row, but Francis managed to limit the damage and keep the Rox in striking distance, trailing 2-1, until for some inexplicable (cough, Clint Hurdle, cough) reason, he was sent out to start the seventh, having already amassed 109 pitches and never really having gotten into a groove all night. Well, Hurdle learned in June that it is a Bad Idea to pull Francis early, so now he just leaves him out there too long. Predictably, Francis went nuclear, helped out with some shaky defense, and after a failed force play at second left the bases loaded for Ryan Zimmerman, who is quite scary for being a National, and who had hit the homer that made it 2-1. That was all for Francis, as Taylor Buchholz (5-1/2.31 as a reliever before last night) was summoned from the pen. He promptly yielded a 2-run single to the pestilential Zimmerman to push the Nats' advantage to 4-1, and by the time the bottom of the ninth hit, Buchholz had also given up a solo homer to Wily Mo Pena(Wily Mo Pena?) to stretch it to 5-1. Thus started the ninth with Chad Cordero summoned out of the 'pen to face Tulowitzki, Holliday, and Helton, and while this is the meat of the order, I felt little hope. I could not believe that they were actually going to lose on my birthday, the bums. But I put on my rally cap and hoped for the best.

It started off well. On Cordero's first pitch, Tulo laced a single into right field. On Cordero's second pitch, Holliday took him downtown to the Rockies' pen for a two-run blast to shave the deficit to 5-3. I began to ramp up the yelling intensity, just since I had had no excuse to do so all game. In this case, however, it wasn't over. Helton shot one deep into the hole, Jimenez overthrew, and he was safe at first. The stadium was on its feet, cheering, yelling, clapping, really getting into it, and it was great to feel that spark of shared energy and excitement.

Still not over. Atkins belted one into the left field corner that rolled to the wall for a double. Coors was yelling itself berserk, joined in heartily by Gillian and myself; we were screaming, whooping, jumping out of our seats, practically on the edge of them on the rare occasions that we sat down. Brad Hawpe worked a walk and that was enough for Manny Acta; he came to retrieve Cordero and summoned Jon Rauch instead. Yorvit Torrealba was up, the whole stadium was behind him, and Yorvit rewarded them for their loyalty by snapping a two-run single into right-center. With Coors going apeshit, Cory Sullivan bunted the runners over into scoring position for only the first out, and Spilborghs came up. Right about this point, Gillian and I were going hoarse with all the screaming we were doing, fervently and madly rooting on whichever current hero in the purple pinstripes was up there. All previous dislikes or biases put aside, we loved them all, and the fact that Spilly eventually grounded out did not deter us. There were still only two outs, after all.

Then Kaz came up; he had a single and a triple already in the game and we were going berserk (along with everyone else who had stuck it out). Kaz hit a ground ball to short, Jimenez couldn't come up with it, and there wasn't even a throw to first as Hawpe crossed the plate with the winning run and everybody jumped up and down, thumped each other on the back, and whooped it up. It was an amazing finish, I was completely euphoric, and I woke up this morning with a sore throat from all the yelling and still feeling that kind of dizzy, drunken happiness (but no actual alcohol involved, thank you very much) that settles in you and makes you grin. And as you know, I really needed that due to how down and unhappy I've been recently. As a matter of fact, I had to wake up at 6 am for work, which really did suck, but it was okay. The fact that I have a killer blister and a sore foot that makes it rather difficult to walk dampened my ardor only slightly, and what I really need to do now is start packing (including all the Rockies stuff I've somehow accumulated over the summer... no idea how that happened...) in preparation for my relocation back to NY and the start of my sophomore year. I really am looking forward to getting back to my other life, but after being in "home: Colorado" mode for four or so months, it'll just be odd (at first) to switch back to "school: New York" mode. It's transferring everything, after all.

But it will be fun. Very, very fun. My summer (mainly thanks to the Rox) has been pretty kick-ass. Now it's time to start up the New York segment of things. Which means I should get started on the packing (I have several boxes I need to ship, since the fact that I am going out alone and relying on the bus/train to get me back to school means that I am limited to bringing on the airplane only what I can schlep up the hill to SLC. Ah well). And my birthday party isn't really even over yet, since I get dinner, cake, and a few extra presents tomorrow night (Sunday being the only day we could all get off). Hooray.

Standing By My Boys

Well, the Rockies lost tonight, 4-2 to the Pirates, after LaTroy Hawkins coughed up the game-tying homer in the eighth and then usual suspect Brian Fuentes blew it in the top of the eleventh. It's become pretty obvious to me that this isn't their year; that they have made improvements in some phases and are standing still (or going backwards) in others. And don't get me wrong, it's not as if I am all right with this. I hate losing and can't stand the pain of watching something that I give so much to give me nothing in return. But as long as our bullpen remains a sieve, Hurdle misuses it, our offense can't collect hits against bad pitchers, and Garrett Atkins can't play defense, we aren't going to make a serious push for the wild card, let alone the division -- it's as simple as that. And as odd as it sounds, I've finally come to terms with that. The Rockies have given me a very, very magical summer in which my passion for baseball has escalated to unhealthy heights (yeah, believe it or not, I wasn't always this much of a fanatic). And for that, I'm grateful.

I can't always support what the organization does. The management on a number of levels drives me insane. I feel absolutely wretched watching the team fail in important situations. So.... why do I stick with them? Because they are my boys forever and that is what being a sports fan is about. I will never abandon them. And for the record, 2008 is shaping up as pretty exciting.

Thanks guys. Now win at least two from the Bucs, just to salvage your dignity.

In Which I Am Partly Justified

Yeah. Huh. No sense in ending the road trip with an inspiring come-from-behind win to take two of three from the Dodgers, right? A night after Jorge Julio blows it with a little non-help from the defense, giving up two runs, Hurdle puts him in in the eighth, where he blows it without any extra outs from the defense; he does get helped by Jeremy Affeldt deciding to completely suck at the worst possible time. After Affeldt gave up five runs without recording an out in San Diego, in a game that the Rockies lost 11-9, he does the same thing in Los Angeles, giving up a two-run single to RAMON MARTINEZ, who is hitting, for the record, .173/0/18. Great job, Jeremy. Great freaking job.

The Elmer Dessens experiment did not work; the Franklin Morales (!) flyer might have. The 21-year-old lefty went 5.1 innings, permitting only one run, in his MLB debut, in a game that the Rockies eventually won 7-4 in 14 innings. They lost two of three to both the Padres and Dodgers, going a heartbreaking 2-4 on their six-game crucial West swing. At least two of those losses are attributable to Affeldt becoming Affuentes at the least convenient juncture. Yeah, I know that playing on 100-loss teams in Kansas City didn't really prepare you for the heat of a pennant race, buddy. Just go away.

And now for the brief foray into real life issues: I am not okay right now, with the Rockies only comprising one of many reasons. I am trying to work through the anger and depression and get my head back on track, as I've been in a serious emotional swoon for the past few weeks and need to exorcise the blues. I'm having a pretty wild self-esteem and self-knowledge crisis, I suppose you could say, and I have difficulty letting that side of me out; so naturally it all caught up and nervous breakdowns really aren't to my taste.

Still trying to recover, today's travesty didn't help, and sometimes I feel like I am hanging on by my fingernails. I am so tired and so down and the blues are taking over me. I have no creativity and ambition. I can’t write, novels or blog or anything. I want to sleep forever and work is becoming more of a chore than ever. I want to go back to school, I’m actively looking forward to it, and at the same time I hold back and want to stay home, which is odd, because I know I love it in New York and want to go back there; maybe it’ll be good for me. It’s the end of the summer and I am mired in a serious emotional swamp. Slipping off the edge. Clawing back. Crystalline shards beneath the fingernails. Dealing with family, with self, money, ambitions, images, life. Splintered mirrors, shifting shadows. Going slightly crazy, clearly. I am too old to be this confused; I may be only 19 (well, in five days) but I am very mature for my age. I know what I want in life and I am generally content. This slide came out of nowhere and it really sucks. I keep pretending that I am fine, and that's what I say when anyone asks, but I am not. This has more to do than just baseball. Everything seems to be teetering on the brink just now. It'll get better, I hope.

I need something to hold onto. Who knows what it’ll be?

It Is With Great Regret I Announce the Demise of the '07 Rox

Yeah, I know. It sucks to have to write a sentence like that. But the truth is, the injury bug that the Rockies had been so fortutiously dodging all season has caught up with them in a major way -- Aaron Cook is now headed to the DL as per the Rocky Mountain News. This means that Cook, Hirsh, and Lopez are all unavailable, leaving an already suspect rotation in even worse shambles and causing the Rockies to look to players like Ramon Ortiz (acquired from the Twins in exchange for AAA infielder Matt Macri) and Elmer Dessens (salvaged from the D-backs scrap heap and rushed into duty) to patch a suddenly fast-sinking ship.

Add to this cornucopia of crap the fact that ace Jeff Francis was shelled for eight earned runs last night, and the Rockies were shut out by the Pads in the opener of a crucial set, and you can see why I am beginning to accept the fact that we may just be done for this season. We hung in there a hell of a lot longer than we normally do, but with three-fifths of our opening-day rotation unavailable for duty and the cracks chinked by less-than-replacement-level garbage, there is very little reason for hope in the Mile High City. Sure, they could be a sports movie, but they're not. The only way they could hope to stay out of a season-killing tailspin is by using a quick hook and relying on the suddenly good bullpen and usually-potent offense to correct the goose eggs the starter will be laying (and not in a good way). Please, O'Dowd and Co., call up Franklin Morales. Just let him have a shot -- our number-two starter is now Josh Fogg. Good god. Francis has zero margin for error now -- last night's debacle had better be the last of the season as well. I still advocate that I'd feel more comfortable with Buchholz and Morales instead of Dessens and Ortiz -- Dessens and Ortiz, for the love of Christ. The next few weeks are going to be very brutal to watch.

To add further to the misery, Ubaldo Jimenez, he of the hitting-a-wall-in-a-major way, goes tonight against Chris Young, who has a 0.73 ERA at home. Yes, 0.73 in the spacious dimensions of Petco, compared to a more-mortal 3.30 mark on the road. Besides, Jimenez has absolutely imploded in his last few starts and desperately needs to show Rockies Nation something, anything to cling onto. If we have no rotation at all, despite the presence of five breathing guys suiting up for the task, our last pipe-dreams of contention are gone. Even the vaunted offense scored precisely zero runs in said important game last night.

You shall notice that the "Axes I Grind" sidebar has been updated accordingly. Oy vey.

You Know Who I Don't Like? The Cubs

No really, I don't. I've never seen the allure of being a Cubs fan to start with -- is it fashionable to be a loser and wear blue, sit in the stands at opposing parks, and annoy the hell out of everyone else with your completely unwarranted arrogance while cheering for your pack of toerags -- not to mention splashing beer on people, standing up and doing frat-boy fist pumps every time a spawn of your hapless brood happens to make it as far as first base? True-blue Chicagoites who have seen their team through a lifetime of misery are not included in this diatribe, but I must say, there seems to be an awful lot of Cubs fans who have never even been to the city and just decided to root for the Lil' Bears because... why, exactly? "America's Team?" Because Haley's Comet has passed the earth twice since they were hoisting a championship trophy on the North Side? Because it sounds chic to say that you're a Cubs fan, as if you really "know" baseball and truly "support" a comically inept team? Because one day you hope that your bunch of assclowns accidentally stumbles into respectability and causes the world to end? Do you want that on your consciousness? Then again, you are a Cubs fan, so you have nothing better to do. So, really, is all you can do to sit at Coors Field one seat away from me and posture and preen like you really had something to celebrate? Billy Goat. Steve Bartman. Kerry Wood. Ron Santo, Ryne Sandberg, and no championship rings. Sit down, you porky son of a bitch.

As you may be able to tell, I certainly wasn't addressing that above venting session to anybody in particular. Not at all. I didn't even slip his friend a Rockies sticker to slap onto the back of his Cubs jersey or anything insidious like that. In fact, if I happened to encounter a particulary annoying Cubs fan of any stripe, it was purely coincidence, as they were popping up like poisonous fungi all over my beloved ballpark. They certainly weren't driving me berserk with their beer-fueled bellows and their endless chants of "Let's Go Cubbies!" as if they had forgotten that their ignorant rears had been removed several hundred miles from Chicago and were now unfortunately located in Colorado instead; their stunted intellect could most likely not process this development, so they carried on turning it into Wrigley Field West anyway. The cheers whenever the Cubs happened to get as far as first were absolutely insane. If I was not smarter than your average Cubs fan, I would think that I was the one in Chicago instead.

Now, look. I'm not an entirely unreasonable person. If these people would like to purchase tickets, swell the Rockies' coffers with a hope that this money will be put to a reasonable purpose (Monforts, a Holliday contract extension, for example?) and come out to root on their team, they are perfectly welcome to do so, even if said rooting happens to drive me out of my tree with their consistent and moronic yelling. What I cannot get is why the Cubs have so many fans in the first place. However much I loathe the Yankees, I understand why people root for them; it's easy to support a winner. On the other hand, the Cubs have done nothing but lose, have done so with truly remarkable incompetence, and yet everyone seems to love them anyway. I know, I know, I'm a Rockies fan, I can't talk, but.... hey, at least the Rockies have only been bad for 14 years, with flashes of promise here and there. I also happen to be from Colorado, have been to many many games at my home ballpark, have an encyclopedic knowledge of my team, and don't go to other parks purely to annoy the opposition. The Cubs have been terrible for 99 years and counting (may the curse never end) and they specialize in promising false hope and yanking it away. Lucy and the football. Buy your kids a Bears or a Bulls hat and get done with it. The Bears made it to the Super Bowl, even if they lost to Manning and the Colts and still have Rex Grossman. The White Sox have returned to their customary climes of outrageous suckitude this year, so I guess there's just not a lot of choice if you're born in the Windy City. And let me emphasize, if you're actually from there, then go ahead and root, try not to be such douchebags in our house, and try shutting up for once in your life. If you are not, then don't even show your mug.

There is another reason I hate the Cubs at this point: They appear to either be actively trying to kill the Rockies or just have a bunch of shitty pitchers who can't keep the ball in the zone. Jeff Baker was drilled in the head on Friday night by Jason Marquis, which knocked his helmet off and left him stunned in the dirt for several minutes; he had a concussion and facial bruising and was released from the hospital today. I was at that game (the same one where I didn't meet any particularly annoying Cubs fans) and it was sick; the entire stadium gasped when he went down. He had no time to duck at all and it was as violent and scary as it gets. A few innings earlier, I'd been soundly ragging Baker for throwing an easy double-play ball into center field and wishing that Helton was back for defensive purposes; then he went down and I was just wishing he'd get up or start moving or something. Fortunately, Baker was all right, just a bit worse for wear, but the plunking didn't stop there. Rookie Ian Stewart, called up to play third while Atkins slid to first in the event of Helton not being able to go, took a pitch off the helmet, but payback was sweet when JAMEY CARROLL of all people launched a pinch-hit grand slam. Today, Holliday took a sharp low curve off the foot, and after the Cubs' intentional walk of Matsui predictably backfired when Tulo blasted a two-run double, they threw behind him. Not to mention, there have been near misses on Spilborghs, Taveras, and Helton, just for a start. There has been a lot of ducking to avoid getting drilled, and maddeningly, none of the Cubs have taken it in the ribs yet. Only one inning left. I'll bide my time.

Also, due to extenuating circumstances, the Rockies had Tim Harikkala starting today. Yes, Tim Hur-ick-uh-luh, aka Tim Hara-Kiri, who predictably failed to be good when making his second major league start ever (the last one came 11 years ago when he was with Seattle. Uh, yeah, we're low on options). Now, it's not as if Jason Hirsh (15-day DL, fractured fibula) and Rodrigo Lopez (out for the rest of the season, torn elbow tendon) are world-beaters, but at least you could count on them to go out there every fifth day and give you a decent five or six innings, sometimes even seven if you asked nicely. Now, since they're gone, the Rockies' rotation consists of Jeff Francis, Aaron Cook, Josh Fogg (somehow weaseling his way into being the third starter when calls for his departure, usually from myself, are made often) and a lot of spit, smoke, mirrors, and glue. Rookie Ubaldo Jimenez has allowed fifteen earned runs over six innings (yes, hair-raising) in his last two starts, and if he's hit a wall, we're in trouble. Taylor Buchholz pitched five one-run innings out of the bullpen during Jimenez's most recent debacle, but has looked bad as a starter since he uses only a fastball and curve with any effectiveness; his changeup is, to put it charitably, a work in progress and he doesn't seem to have a decent feel for his slider. Young lefty phenom Franklin Morales, a combined 19-5/3.24 in the minor leagues this year, may attempt to follow Jimenez up if the Rockies can't get the rotation sorted out. So, they're playing Tim Harikkala, who might as well have come from the AARP as from AAA, and who -- shockingly! -- sucked, going 3.1 IP/3 earned runs. This heralds a very worrisome return to the Denny Stark/Scott Elarton/Shawn Chacon days, which I am not happy about. Hopefully they find the right buttons to push, Jimenez re-transforms from a pumpkin into a coach, and perhaps Morales can be given his shot. Tim Harikkala. Cold shudders.

On the bright side, the Rockies did win today. In one of the more befuddling managerial moves in history, Lou Piniella intentionally walked Kaz Matsui to load the bases and face ice-in-his-veins Tulowitzki, who loves clutch situations and already had a solo homer in the game. Tulo did not disappoint, missing a grand slam by about two inches and settling for a two-run double to break a three-all tie. Matt Holliday added an RBI groundout (after they threw behind him, grr, aargh) to make the score 6-3, which ended up being the final tally. The bullpen did not allow a runner from the top of the fourth until Manny Corpas permitted a one-out walk to Jason Kendall in the top of the ninth. All in all, a good day for the Blake Street Bombers v. 2.0 as they improved to 61-56, stayed two games arrears of the Pads in the Wild Card, and now head out west to take on an absolutely crucial set of games versus San Diego and Los Angeles, which could make or break their fledgling postseason ambitions.

Go Rockies!

Déjà Vu All Over Again

Last year on August 2nd, my sister and I attended the Rockies/Brewers game, the last one we would be able to make it to for the 2006 season, and enjoyed a very special time that evening -- it was the last night of summer for us, and we generally had a religious experience with how much we'd gotten to know and love the Rockies. It was lots of fun, was bittersweet because I was leaving for my freshman year of college in a few weeks, and made us very eager to get back to Coors this year. (If you are interested in further reading about this subject, please consult this entry, which details how I fell for the Rockies as well as offers a recap of the August 2nd game).

It was a great way to cap off the season and a fitting way to bid adieu to our new boys for 2006. Therefore, when the 2007 schedule came out and we saw that they were playing the Brewers on August 7, we immediately made plans to go, hoping to repeat. Unfortunately, my sister was doing the Aerial Dance Festival in Boulder, the same commitment that made August 2 the last game for us last year, but there was no way that I could be kept from it tonight -- as it was, several of my friends from Purple Row agreed that the date worked for an "Internet People Get-Together Redux," and I met three of them (four counting a Cubs-fan friend who was along to root against the Brewers). We had a fine time at the park, sitting in Section 206 just like last time, and it rained during batting practice, just like last time. Since the Rockies also won the August 2, 2006 contest they played, I was hoping that the deja vu would extend that far.

Chris Capuano was starting for the Brewers, and I, for the record, have saved him from ninjas. (Well... not exactly. See, the thing is, during my freshman writing seminar, we were asked to write about our best experience of the summer, so I wrote about the August 2nd game. Then we had to give it to one of our classmates, who would try to introduce a thread of conflict into it. The classmate that received my piece knew nothing about baseball, so she had to resort to having a pack of ninjas attack Coors Field. In the course of this little adventure, I saved both my sister and Capuano from them before the marauding pirates showed up. Ask me later... man, I should see if I still have that). So, I was hoping he'd repay me for his life by giving up runs to the Rockies, but unfortunately, until the bottom of the sixth, he was not getting with the program and had been shutting them out on three hits. Since the Brewers were 21-33 on the road coming into the game, and had lost 12 of their past 15 away from Miller Park, this did not seem like such a tall order to ask for, but the Rockies have a puzzling habit of pummeling good pitchers and making bad pitchers look like Cy Young.

Fortunately, they got with the program in the bottom of the sixth, starting with Tulo's leadoff homer, continuing with Atkins' RBI single, Spilborghs' double, and Sullivan's infield hit; Jamey Carroll added the last tally of the inning with a fielder's choice. In the bottom of the seventh, Helton hit his first homer of the game to push the advantage to 6-3, the bullpen had a couple of nice tidy innings, and then the offense went to work again ruthlessly in the bottom of the eighth, highlighted by Helton's second homer, a three-run, 430-foot shot just beneath us. (Side note: There was an incredibly annoying Brewers-fan kid behind us, saying stupid things all game, and when Helton was up with two out and two on, Holliday having missed a three-run jack by the skin of his teeth, the kid said, "It's the third out, it's Todd Helton." Well, sure, Helton's lost his power stroke a bit, but it made me mad; you do not insult my boys in front of me. I guess Todd thought so as well, because seconds later he launched it and shut the miniature dipshit up in a hurry. He was still possessed of the opinion that the Brewers were going to make a comeback, down 11-3 in the ninth, which they did not. Also, of course Helton had to hit a homer -- he hit one during the 8-1 win last year. I told you it was deja vu). And by the way, since when have the Brewers had so many fans (there seemed to be a disproportionate amount of them here tonight, or maybe they were just loud?) They were a losing and footnoted club for the past 15 years, one good season and there they are... but I guess I shouldn't be complaining so much. I seriously doubt the Rockies had this many fans for the last few years either. Good for the Brewers for finally pulling out of their decade-and-a-half tailspin, and if the Cards won't win the Central, I'll take the Crew to do so, although they can wait to return to their winning ways until they get out of Colorado. If the Cubs get into the playoffs, never mind win anything, I'll start being very seriously concerned about the end of the world. We dodged a bullet in 2003... can you imagine? The Cubs, Red Sox, and White Sox all in a row? We'd be melting in nuclear fallout right about now.

It's just fun to go to Rockies games this year. Unfortunately, that may be the third-to-last game I make it to (I'm going on August 10th and 24th, the latter being my birthday, but then I won't be back at Coors until May 2008.... a thought that makes me incredibly sad). The crowd gets into it, they cheer loudly, the electricity is great, and it's not just a bunch of bored people out at the ballpark to talk on their cell phones and eat hot dogs, if they bother to show up at all. This is a good young club finally getting some attention from the national media, Denver is supporting its Rockies again (which warms my little heart) and thirty-thousand-odd fans turning out for a Tuesday night game against the Brewers is very respectable indeed.

The Rockies go for the sweep tomorrow, and they've got the right man on the mound -- Jeff Francis, 12-5/4.01, who hasn't lost in a very long time and seems to be able to inspire his team to do likewise. They've won 15 of 22 starts made by young Jeffrey Franchise, and he looks to be turning into a bona fide ace. Even when he has his rocky outings, the offense seems able to pick him up, something they'll have to do again against Yovani Gallardo (4-1, 2.55) who shut them out for 4 1/3 innings the last time they saw him, in Milwaukee a few weeks ago. A series win is nice, but a sweep would be better. With their victory tonight coupled with the suddenly free-falling Dodgers losing to the Reds and the D-backs being dropped by the Pirates, the Rockies moved into third place, four off the pace in the West and three behind the Wild Card-leading Padres. Believe it or not, they're actually in a pennant race, and although they may not get there, it's been a blast to be along for the ride. Well, usually; Brian Fuentes' little, ahem, hiccup not qualifying. (I keep trying not to imagine what our record would look like.... I know I mentioned that, but seriously, he doesn't have to throw another pitch this season for my team as far as I'm concerned).

Go Rockies!

Iannetta Optioned; The Cracker Barrel Rockies

Yes, naturally, I reneged on my dubious promises to bring you my incorrect insight about how the second half might shape up for the NL, but is anyone really surprised? At least I never got around to making predictions for the Senior Circuit in the first place, aside from the Cards and Rockies, so I don't have to retract any of them yet. Well, it seems as if all my Worst Case scenarios for the Cards have played out, and the Rockies are about what I gave them credit for, except they're definitely better than the Giants (hahahaha, couldn't happen to a nicer team). They're still, remarkably, playing meaningful games in August, and sport by far the best record of the teams that I follow, but 5.5 games (division) and 4 games (wild card) is a tough task to make up, and they have a logjam of teams ahead of them that they're going to have to miraculously leapfrog if they plan to remain in contention much longer. Plus, Clint Hurdle. You know.

But the main point of me returning to the blogosphere, if only briefly, is to note that Chris Iannetta got the somewhat-expected boot to Triple-A Colorado Springs today. After opening the season as the starting catcher, he could never clear the Mendoza Line afterwards and had one hit in his last 29 at-bats at the time of the demotion. I did my fair share of pimping him earlier in the season, but have to admit that Yorvit Torrealba now deserves the lion's share of the playing time he now receives. He's the hottest-hitting NL catcher behind the Dodgers' Russell Martin, and his defense is certainly good enough to warrant trotting him out there on a daily basis. The one problem with Torrealba is that he consistently, and sometimes habitually, calls for fastballs, and while this works with starters like Ubaldo Jimenez (who can throw 98) or Jason Hirsh (who needs to use that pitch more often) it runs into a snag with Aaron Cook, who relies predominantly on a sinker/changeup as well. Iannetta actually recognized that Cook could throw other pitches and as such called for them, guiding Aaron through a hot streak of quality starts. He'd become Cookie's personal catcher of sorts, and it does make one wonder how Cook's outings will look if Torrealba returns to catching him.

Yorvit won't be without backup, of course, as the Rockies promoted Edwin Bellorin from the Springs to replace Iannetta in the role of spare catcher. Bellorin looks good on the outside (.326/9/45) but most of that comes in the thin, un-humidored Colorado Springs air, where he hits .358; the number is significantly lower on the road. He's also hit a recent swoon, as he started the season on fire (.480 in April) but has hit only .250 for the month of August. Still, whatever he can provide will probably, and unfortunately, be better than Iannetta. I like Chris and remain convinced that with some extra time to season in AAA, he may prove to be more than he's shown thus far. I also think that Hurdle's mismanaged him, doesn't even seem to really like him (he has a predilection toward crusty and crappy veterans, after all) and a change of scenery and a return to a more familiar level may help out with his swing. Iannetta will probably be back up in September when rosters expand, along with Sean Barker, Jayson Nix, Franklin Morales, Ian Stewart, Joe Koshansky, Seth Smith, Omar Quintanilla, and (groan) Clint Barmes, so we can see if it helped his swing at all. Good luck to him.

As for the second topic of discussion, the Rockies (surprisingly) resisted making any deals at the non-waiver July 31 trade deadline. If you check out the packages they were offered, it's pretty easy to see why (Hurdle, for once saying something that I agree with, termed the offerings "coal for gold nuggets.") To get Jose Contreras, he of the 6.60 ERA, the Rockies were asked to give up Morales (their top pitching prospect, recently promoted to AAA) and Stewart (their hotshot third-base prospect, hitting .302 with 14 homers). To get Kyle Farnsworth from the Yankees (come on, KYLE FARNSWORTH?) the price would be Morales and Ryan Spilborghs. The Twins kicked the tires on Garrett Atkins and offered.... Juan Rincon (5.89 ERA) as the centerpiece of that deal. Come on, Major League Baseball. Show us a little respect. We are not a farm club for you to pick and eviscerate as you like, and you cannot have all our good young talent for the dregs of your system. At least Dealin' Dan O'Dowd, who earned a reputation in the past as being all too ready to wheel and deal and pick up prospects for proven talent, resisted the impulse and kept the nucleus of his young club together.

There really are no gaping holes, and dismantling might prove counterproductive. Sure, we wish our rotation was better... but Francis/Cook/Jimenez/Hirsh/Fogg is average to decent, even if Fogg is like a foot fungus that just won't go away. (Unfortunately, with Rodrigo Lopez having torn a tendon and probably a wash for the season, he may be staying there). Sure, we wish Brian Fuentes would go away and never come back... but Manny Corpas will hopefully continue to impress so that even Hurdle will get the picture. (Hurdle, depressingly, has announced his intent to slot Fuentes into the closer's role upon his return from injury. I keep trying not to imagine what our record would look like if Fuentes hadn't catastrophically blown those four straight saves, but man, it's difficult... 60-50, 1.5 back in the division, probably in the Wild Card lead... OY, that's painful, I'll stop). If our season goes to hell, at least we know who to blame, right?

Either way, I'm still watching, on the rare opportunities that I can. (Money is nice, but I'm starting to be quite sick of work and ready to go back to school). Therefore, I sneak in games when I can, and the thought that I may be attending only two or three more in person made me quite sad. I know I'm going to the game on my birthday, August 24, and that that will probably be the last Rockies game I see for the season. Man, depressing.

On a final note, you may notice that my list of axe-grinding has been cut significantly. Tom Martin is finally gone (hallelujah!) and Iannetta is in the Springs, plus, Spilborghs is now the starting right fielder against lefties as Hawpe still has trouble hitting them. Now just get rid of Hurdle and Fogg, and we'll be good...

Go Rox!

Midseason Reviews, Part I

I meant to do this at the All-Star break, but naturally, I had only one day off and that was during the Home Run Derby. I came home around 9 PM and the last thing I had energy for was writing about baseball. By this time I'd usually had quite enough of reality and all the attendant irritants that go with it. I'm so disgustingly perky at Starbucks that no one knows I am in reality a cynical introvert who lives largely in her head and is prey to a flotilla of disturbing obsessions. (Some of my friends know some of them, I refuse to divulge the rest). So I decided that writing fiction about baseball was better than writing about real baseball, as I have detailed in preceding posts. Explanations over, here are my one-paragraph summations of the 30 MLB teams' season to date, and a look at how badly I suck at predicting things. They are outlined in standings order, AL East to NL West, and will probably be split by league.

I also have three days coming up this weekend, even if the great majority of the time will be occupied with sleeping. Hey, people, I had to get up at 4:45 this morning. Don't judge. Also, I'm having a royally, royally rotten day, am consumed in bitterness and misery, and will try to tone down the venom.

AL EAST

Boston: I predicted their usual second-fiddle finish to the Yankees in a top-heavy division, but instead they're burning up the league, leading everybody at a ridiculous 61-40 clip, just edging out the Tigers for the best record in baseball and enjoying a margin that's been as wide as 14 games, even if it's been whittled to 6.5 at the moment and making the Beantown fans sweat it out again. Second Half: Although their fans have been conditioned to expect collapse, it would be fairly surprising indeed if the Sox turned into the 1978 versions of themselves and let the Yankees come all the way back... but you never know.

New York: I bowed to the mojo, even if I hate them violently, and figured they'd be setting the tone atop the East again, but they've looked extremely mortal for large portions of the season. They briefly put together a hot streak, winning 11 of 12, then came to Colorado and got swept by Todd and the Toddlers (proudest moment of my life) , skidding aimlessly into the break and looking like a done deal. Of course, then they began winning games against weak opponents and trying to find their own Bucky Dent, attempting to build on a 54-46 record and chip away at the Sox lead. Second Half: I hate the Yankees (I may have mentioned this) but I can't deny that they bear an unnerving resemblance to a cockroach or an earthworm (in more ways than one). If anybody has learned anything, it's that you can't count George Steinbrenner's Traveling All-Stars out completely.

Toronto: I thought they'd at least be competitive, and predicted that they'd make at least a few fans in New York and Boston sweat, but instead, the Blue Jays haven't done that much (not that they ever had a realistic shot of cracking the Sox/Yanks stronghold, and at least I tabbed them to end up in third, the slot they're currently inhabiting). Despite the Rocky Mountain News' readers bewilderingly naming Toronto as the majors' best team, they have a strong offense (Wells, Glaus, Thomas, and an emergent Rios? Yikes) and yet can't mount enough of a push. They currently stand at 51-50, one game clear of the break-even mark -- and ergo, not bad, not good. Second Half: Barring an intercessory act of God, there's little chance Toronto clears their accustomed spot. They should pick out curtains and a wallpaper pattern for third place.

Baltimore: Peter Angelos, recently (and deservedly) named in Jon Heyman's SI.com article as one of the worst owners in baseball, still has his talons embedded in this floundering franchise, so until then, there's not a realistic chance that somebody will perform the overhaul needed to transform the Orioles from pretender to contender. MLB K leader Erik Bedard is a pleasant surprise, establishing himself as an ace on anybody's staff, and youngster Jeremy Guthrie has also stepped it up. Sam Perlozzo, to nobody's surprise, was fired and was replaced with interim manager Davey Trembley, who has skippered the O's to nine wins in 13 games coming out of the break. Still, they're 47-53, and they have more of a chance to win the East than I do of marrying Jason Hirsh. (And don't ask me about that, I'm still upset). Second Half: Not much of interest. Have hot streaks, have cold streaks. Finish in fourth again.

Tampa Bay: Unpopular opinion time: The Devil Rays are given far, far too much credit. Everyone talks about how they're a tough young team, how Maddon will pick up Piniella's slack and lead them from doormat to sudden contender, but let's face facts: Rocco Baldelli stays healthy for five minutes at a time. James Shields has turned back into a pumpkin. Scott Kazmir and Carl Crawford can't do it alone. And as long as the Tropicana Juice Box attracts 5000 fans a night (8000 on promo days) the Devil Rays are going to continue to play exactly the way their 38-63 record suggests. Second Half: More of the same.

AL CENTRAL

Detroit: I expressed skepticism that they'd be able to follow up their Cinderella run with another successful season, but they're doing just that, ripping along at a 60-41 mark and just behind the Red Sox for the best record in baseball. They're actually better on the road than they are at home (34-20 vs. 26-21) and despite Joe Morgan's bewildering insistence that Gary "Loudmouth" Sheffield is the sole reason for their offensive prowess (Joe, A) they were a good-hitting club last year, and b) have you, uh, heard of Magglio Ordonez) their strength still lies in their pitching. Rogers went down and they didn't miss a beat, as Justin Verlander is turning in a sterling sophomore effort and already has a no-hitter to his credit. Second Half: If the Tigers can fight off the marauding Indians, they should make a return playoff visit. They'll have their work cut out for them to get back to the Fall Classic, though, let alone win it.

Cleveland: I underestimated them, figuring they'd resemble their 2006 selves more than their 2005 selves, but I was wrong yet again, and they're fighting the Tigers tooth and nail, currently only one game arrears of the Motor City Kitties and sporting a shiny 59-42 record. Cleveland is usually a solid club, and is making a very real push for the AL Central title. Detroit lost it (thanks to the Royals) in the final few days of the season last year, so nothing's impossible. Second Half: My previous pick to click in the Central, the Twins, uh... didn't live up to it, so I'll jinx the Indians by picking them. Apologies to Tribe fans.

Minnesota: The Twins made a sweep of the major awards last season -- Cy Young for Santana, AL batting title for Mauer, and MVP for Morneau (who has 28 HR this season and is trailing only Alex Rodriguez -- I think -- in the AL). So why are they so bad, or at least, not that good? (51-50 as of this writing). Answer: No one after Santana in the rotation, His Johanness looking mortal, not enough hitting, and just plain bad luck. I thought they'd be the team to beat in this division, but overestimated them while similarly undervaluing the Tigers and Indians. Second Half: Unless they can snatch out the Central title with hours on the clock like they did last year, the Twins really don't have a realistic shot at unseating the leaders.

Chicago: Man, what a meteoric plummet. I guess the White Sox realized that although they've gotten off the World Series schneid, they're still supposed to be a bad team. They've fulfilled that billing admirably, waffling along ten games under .500 and only two ahead of the Royals for possession of the cellar. The offense I talked up in the beginning of the year has taken a season-long catnap and GM Kenny Williams has gone into rumored fire sale mode with his starters, who I correctly tabbed as mediocre. (At least I got SOMETHING right). Jon Garland, Javier Vasquez, and Jose Contreras are all on the block for the right price, as Williams tries to wring a king's ransom for average-to-bad pitchers. But since the market for starters is so thin, he may be able to command a decent return anyway. The same can't be said of his team, who will tread water at best. Second Half: Nothing worthy of note. The Sox already got their highlight with Mark Buehrle's no-hitter (conversely, the only pitcher that's definitely staying after he got an extension).

Kansas City: Like anybody's surprised. 43-57 and still solidly in last in one of baseball's toughest divisions, in this case by a 16.5-game gap. Gil Meche, the much-maligned, has been all right (7-7, 3.76) and, just as I predicted, got named an All-Star. While it wasn't quite the Mark Redman silliness, it still shows that the All-Star Game is a joke.... What? The Royals? They're still not worth mentioning and are a few years at least, possibly a decade, away from contending. Plus, they're still owned by David Glass. Second Half: Does anybody still follow the Royals? Well, if they do, they are brave souls, are to be commended, and will probably be treated to more bad baseball.

AL WEST

Anaheim: I refuse to call them by their full (and ridiculous) name. And they are fulfilling my prediction that they'd take the West, except they're doing it quite a bit more handily than I thought they would. They're leading by three and a half games, but their chief challenger is not the Athletics -- it's the surprising Mariners. The Angels have a stable of prospects to shop, strong pitching, and have a few holes they need to patch, but they still have Vlad Guerrero, who one of these days will probably swing at an intentional walk pitch and hit it over the fence. Second Half: I was right, there's no unseating the Ridiculous Names atop the West, who will probably win yet another playoff berth. As long as they take out the Yankees in the first round, it's all good.

Seattle: Everyone, myself included, didn't really expect the Mariners to make a push this year -- and then they went and did it anyway, kicking into a higher gear after a typically disappointing start to the season. They currently sit at 54-45, but are currently embroiled in a bit of a skid, just breaking a five-game losing streak. Mike Hargrove's puzzling resignation as the Mariners were their hottest didn't appear to matter much at first, and interim manager John McLaren has done a fine job. The Mariners locked up franchise cornerstone Ichiro Suzuki at five years and $90 million, which I expect will be another mistake contract by the time it's run its duration -- what big-money pact isn't? -- but I guess they weren't going to let him walk. The rotation is still suspect, but it remains to be seen how long Seattle can make it work. Second Half: May make Los Angeles Angels of Huntington Beach Lakewood hot under the collar, but doubtful that they'll unseat them.

Oakland: Well, I blew it. Perhaps I have a tendency (well, yes, I do) to bias my predictions in favor of teams I like, and I guess I failed to properly take into account that Oakland has a team made of china men who fall over at the slightest breeze. Well, I did, but one has to wonder what the hell Larry Davis is doing to make the A's use the DL whenever and wherever somebody breathes too hard. That and Joe Kennedy really is as bad as his numbers suggest, Chad Gaudin is becoming human again after a Cy-like start, and Dan Haren, despite starting the All-Star Game, has scuffled in July to tarnish his previously sub-2 ERA. The A's have been forced to use so many call-ups they might as well rename themselves the Rivercats, and I think I'm officially done with Rich Harden. Makes a few starts, does brilliantly, hurts himself and disappears. The best theory now is try to keep him in bubble wrap for a couple weeks and peddle him off on a GM who still thinks he's not the next Kerry Wood/Mark Prior/Mike Hampton. Second Half: The A's entered the break in need of a patented second-half surge to get them out of the doldrums and back into contention, but it's not going to happen. They're 48-53, under .500 and pretty much done for the season, and it'll be interesting to see who stays and who goes come July 31.

Texas: If the Rangers thought that hiring fiery Ron Washington was going to help light a fire under their underachieving rears, they were mistaken. They're a sad 46-56, solidly in the cellar (although Oakland has only three games to work with) and rumors have bubbled up of Washington's hard-nose style not playing well in the clubhouse and creating a schism between manager and players. The Rangers still have no pitching (hard to believe Kevin Millwood was the AL ERA leader a few years ago) and Mark Teixeira is seemingly a lock to be traded before the deadline. On the bright side, they have C.J. Wilson. Read his blog. Second Half: Nothing really worth remarking on. C.J. may write some more and make me laugh.

Okay, that's done. Gah... that took too long, spanned the entire time it took for me to watch the Rockies lose 5-4 to the Dodgers, and didn't make me feel better about this royally rotten day. Seriously, everything that could go wrong did, and I'm hoping that tomorrow will be better. It pretty much has to be.

I'm out.