Photo Day Redux

As with last year, we went to Photo Day again this year, and while it was again very fun, the presence of all the bandwagoners who hopped on after 21 Days meant that there were a lot more people there and we had a lot less time for actual conversations -- just chitchat. Also unlike last year, there was a definite sense of urgency for the players to get through all the crowds, instead of ambling along and taking their time like they were on June 2, 2007. But July 19, 2008 wasn't at all bad. We got photos of one or more of us with 15 of the guys, hitting up everyone we wanted and then some. Unfortunately, Greg Reynolds got demoted to AAA and Tulo was off on his most recent rehab assignment (enough with the injuries, bucko....) otherwise we would have gotten them too. But we DID get Atkins, Baker, Barmes, Buchholz, Cook, Corpas, Hawpe, Helton, Holliday, Iannetta, Jimenez, Smith, Spilborghs, Stewart, and Quintanilla, which I think you'll agree is not a bad haul. Also, as they did last year, the Rockies won the actual game 7-1, thanks to two RBIs each from Atkins and Quintanilla, along with sundry contributions from Torrealba (!) Hawpe, and Stewart. Not to be forgotten was Scott Podsednik's 4-for-5, 3-double night, which of course failed to win him another start today. It didn't matter, as the Rockies shockingly won 11-3 to finish off the four-game sweep of the Pirates. Winning at home has never been a problem for them, as they improved to 29-21 at Coors, but the road is still their Achilles heel. I'll believe that they can contend in the mild, mild West (still a possibility due to it turning back into the Worst) once they win more than one game on the road.

Anyway, about the pics. Various amusing commentary encapsulated beneath.

Me and Atkins. We didn't have much time to chat with Atkins, since he had to move along and is generally not the world's most talkative guy as is. But he did say, "No problem," when I told him thanks. Also, something that strikes me every year is that Atkins is a very large fellow. No seriously, he is.

That is technically my sister Gillian, Bake, and me, but thanks to my older sister's camera-challenged ways, Gillian got her head cut off. She is absolutely clucking about this, since she loves Bake and really wanted this picture to turn out well. I am starting to see her point. He is the world's nicest guy. He ambled up to us, went, "Hey guys, what's up?" and promptly put his arms around both of us. I put my arm around him too. Hey, he liked it. He gave us a big grin afterwards. Too bad we didn't get to chat with him the way we did last year, but at least he didn't ground into three double plays the way he did last year.

My sister Darcy and I with Barmes. You can't exactly see his face, thanks to the shadows, but it's actually him, not Yorvit in a mask. (Yorvit was kinda tagging along on Iannetta's coattails, doing the double-catcher picture thing. We only got Chris, not Yorvit).

Gillian, Bucky, and me. Bucky is so cute. I told him, "You're doing very well this year," (1.79 ERA, I think so) and Bucky, looking genuinely surprised and pleased, answered, "Oh! Thank you! Thank you so much!" as if it hadn't ever occurred to him. We were doing the typical sister-banter thing in front of him, which was making him laugh, and Gillian said, "Can you tell we're sisters?" Bucky just grinned and shrugged. Cute little lemur that he is.

Gillian, Cookie, and me. Cookie's mouth is open because he was probably in the middle of making smart remarks about our shoes. It was crowded all day, so getting near the guys required a lot of finesse maneuvering, and as we squeezed in for our turn to take a pic with Cook, he looked at our flip-flop-shod feet and remarked, "You know, if you wore real shoes, you wouldn't have to worry about people stepping on your feet." I shrugged. "Oh well, it's hot." (Must have been at least 100 in the sun). "I know," Cookie responded with a grin. Another very friendly and nice guy, although we again didn't have time to talk with him the way I did last year.

Gillian, Brad, Darcy, and me. I think this is a cute picture, and Brad himself is of course as adorable as ever. The lady behind me with the water bottle was prowling around looking for people who might be stepping on the grass.

This year's Todd shot! I love Todd. I brought this picture from last year to show him, and he looked at it and said, "Oh, awesome!" Then, of course, we needed this year's version of the Toddhug, which we got.

Me, Matt, Darcy, and Gillian. Notice two things: 1) That Matt is resting his Gatorade bottle on my shoulder, and 2) The baby just beyond Gillian's shoulder. Once we had gotten our Matt pic, her dad handed her to Matt for a shot, and Matt held her gingerly in both enormous hands, making a funny face as if afraid he would drop her or she would start crying. It was amusing. Since there was such a big bottleneck around Matt, I don't think he moved the entire time.

Darcy, Iannetta, and I. Iannetta is, as always, very quiet and serious, methodically going along the line and applying his superior brain to the difficult task of Photo Day.

Someone scanned this picture crookedly. Gillian, U-ball, and me. No, Uball is not as scared of us as he looks. And no, my head is not on his shoulder.

Another very crookedly scanned photo, this one of me and last year's stretch-run hero Seth Smith. Who is looking kinda hot in that scruff.

Spilly! And us. Gillian was wearing her fringed/specially modified Everyday is a Holliday shirt, which she has cut up in strips, and Spilly took one look at it and said, "Hey, that's a cool shirt!" Since most people think this modification is odd, Gillian has taken it as one more indication that she and Ryan are soul mates. (I kid). I also got to tell him that I liked his tattoo. Spilly is the man and he needs to come back soon. I'm just happy that he was there.

Me and a camera-locating-challenged Stewie, who is looking the wrong way. Although he did kind of stare at me beforehand and then caress my neck during the photo (although not in a creepy way). So that was nice. He's not bad looking in person. Actually kind of cute. That is the case with most of them.

That does it for my pics. There are others with my sisters in them, but above is a fairly nice sample of what we got. It was a fun game, we got to semi-hang out with them, and screw the crowds. Damn bandwagoners. We were there last year before it was cool to be a Rockies fan. Mwah. Also, I’m glad that the Rockies are still enough of a small-market team to be able to do cool things like this (although it was a little zooey). Can you imagine the Red Sox, Yankees, Cubs, or Mets (all of whom I hate virulently with the exception of the Mets) trying to do something like that? Eh, yeah. Pandemonium.

Kip Wells vs. Eric Stults tomorrow. This is probably not going to end well.

Add Another Chapter to the Cinderella Story

This Colorado Rockies season has already progressed beyond believability for even the cheesiest, schmaltziest sports movie. Come on, they're the (possibly, depending on your proclivities and/or geographic orientation) lovable underdogs coming into the 2007 season, their only playoff appearance a distant 12-year-old memory in which they won exactly one game before being four-and-out to the eventual Series champion Braves. They were generally picked to finish last, and I gave them a five-game improvement to a break-even 81-81 mark. (In my preseason predictions, I also really, really underestimated Tulo. I am so sorry, Troy. Call me, and we'll get an arrangement worked out for me to bear your children. Wait, what? [whistles]).

Anyway, this year, they start off 18-27, making all the naysayers look pretty much dead accurate. Then, from May 22, they have the best record in baseball second only to those damn Yankees. They never lead the Wild Card all year and on the last day of the season they manage to scratch into a tie. They play a tiebreaker at home, go down 8-6 in the bottom of the 13th against the all-time saves leader, then win on a play at the plate that will likely go down in postseason lore as The Slide (as compared to Jeremy Giambi, which was The (Non) Slide). Then they win the wild card and meet a similarly hot team in the Phillies, who went 13-4 down the stretch to blow over the hollow-men Mets. Then they win the first two on the road in front of the notoriously (un)friendly Philly crowd, including getting a grand slam from their second baseman Matsui, who hit four homers all year and whose Major League total stands at a whopping 17. Now they go home to a Coors that will be on fire, sold out, and ready to cheer their boys onto their first-ever NLCS (knock on wood).

Let's not get ahead of ourselves, of course. 2-0 is great, but it's not 3-0. We're still nine innings away from the Pre-Pre-Promised Land (Championship) series, 36 innings away from the Pre-Promised Land (the NL pennant) and a further 36 innings away from the Promised Land (World Series victory). What the team has done in terms of bearing down and focusing on each game at a time, instead of trying to comprehend the fact that they've now won 16 of 17 to close the season and charge into the spot they're currently in, cannot be understated. This is a group of young guys playing with maturity and focus beyond their years, a group that finished .5 games behind the D-backs (if both teams can hang on to their respective 2-all edges, they'll be on target to collide in a Wild Wild West NLCS, probably the sports networks' worst nightmare) for the best record in the NL. A group led by a wily veteran (Helton) up-and-coming mashers who are finally getting the attention they deserve (Holliday, Hawpe, Atkins) and a true rookie superstar (Troy Tulowitzki) they are also a supreme example of class, grace, and dignity off the field.

Here's why: The Rockies voted, unanimously, to allocate a full playoff share to Amanda Coolbaugh, the pregnant widow of AA coach Mike, killed July 22 while coaching first base for the Drillers, their minor-league affiliate. This is made even more touching and heartbreaking by the fact that Coolbaugh only joined the organization a few weeks before he died, and only a few players personally knew him, yet they are stepping up to help out those he left behind. Amanda, aside from expecting her third child any day now, has two pre-school-aged sons; Joseph, 5, and Jacob, 3. You can imagine that an AA coach isn't making very much, and the players receive 60% of the gate take for each playoff game. If they go on to the World Series, this amount could be as much as $362,000. For comparison, Atkins makes $400,000 -- that's almost doubling his salary.

And yet this group of young players, without telling the media, without being prodded by management to repair their image, quietly chose to give it to someone who needed it more than they do. For comparison, the Rockies' payroll is $54.4 million, and 30% of that ($16.6 million) is going to Todd. A fair number of them are making the league minimum, and the second-highest-paid player after Helton is Holliday, who's making $4.4 million (the potential and deserving NL MVP, folks). It is so incredibly rare to hear about players voluntarily turning down more money and giving it to someone who doesn't have as much, in a time of great need, that it's just an amazingly classy gesture by a team of not just players, but friends, fellow community members, and men. These players directly passed on padding their own pockets like so many of their peers, and it shines a spotlight on the quality of the character in that clubhouse.

Contrast this to the main Broncos story, which features Travis Henry getting arrested again for marijuana possession and the revelation he has nine children by nine different women. (Wow, the football version of Elijah Dukes). The Rockies are not only winners, they are the epitome of humbleness, class, and selflessness. I could simply not be more proud of them (but I'm sure that if they kept moving up, it might be possible...) To judge from the comments on ESPN, the Rockies not only pulled off a miraculous late-season run, they are winning the hearts of America by reminding us that not all professional athletes are lowlife thugs. It is a refreshing and truly touching change. I salute them.

One other thing, in case you're having different ideas about where this altruism stems from: You may have heard a lot about the erroneous "Team Jesus" article that got published in USA Today, suggesting the Rockies only draft Christian players and that their clubhouse is some weird version of Bible camp, where Maxims, Playboys, and sexually explicit music are banned and they spend all their time praying and reading Scripture. I feel as if I have to refute this misperception at every turn, so here we go again: That article was a factually incorrect exaggeration based on the beliefs of the front office and a few of the players. And even those players (Cook, Helton, Holliday) aren't happy at all with that story and how they were portrayed.

Fact is, despite the great diversity of backgrounds and ethnic origins, there is no schism among the guys whatsoever; as Cook puts it, "I've never even seen a Bible out in the open in the clubhouse." And far from proselytizing every chance he gets, Holliday, who is religious, likes to keep it quiet and doesn't think it has to do with baseball. The guys in the clubhouse love each other and pull for each other hard. And we look for players with character as well as talent, just so we don't end up with Kyle Farnsworth-like @$$holes on the team (and if even that was so important, how did Jose Mesa end up here for one brief and deeply forgettable season?) Not necessarily religious. There are a few guys who are, as there are on any club, but it's by no means the "Team Jesus" that certain bloggers would have you believe. We're not sanctimonious holier-than-thou missionaries, we're a diverse blend of young guys having fun. Jason Hirsh, who is Jewish, was asked about the supposed Christianity bias in an interview with MLB Trade Rumors a while back, and said he hadn't noticed a thing, and had never played with a nicer and more welcoming group of guys. He was excited to be a Rockie, and this was well before our fairy tale run, so all the more power to him...

Anybody and everybody is welcome in the clubhouse, which is fantastically tight-knit and supportive of all comers. Not all the guys are Christians, and those that are are the best kind, of outreaching, supportive, genuinely nice and humble individuals instead of narrow-minded, vitriol-spewing bigots. Those that are religious are not unduly dragging it into the public eye. You should wikipedia the Rockies and read their response to the article, published in the Denver Post, and if you watched the Rockies Spotlight on Holliday, you'll see him roll his eyes and refer to the USA Today reporter as "that guy." This is not some sort of exclusive "good ol' boys" club.

Hopefully we got that straightened out; I'm tired of having to refute it at every turn. And no matter what started it, the gesture to a grieving widow was a fantastically classy, mature, and professional thing to do, and hopefully the boys can go out in front of a fanatically supportive home crowd and finish the job in three, moving on again with their fairytale season. Coolbaugh's two sons will be throwing out the first pitch -- how more Hollywood can you get?! -- and since Denver has gone deep purple with Rockies fever, it would be great to nail the thing down on the first crack. God, so nervous.

P.S. Colorado niceness has to go out the window. I want people above the 'pen razzing Jamie Moyer during his warmups, and I want Rollins to be as viciously treated as Holliday was in Philly. We're real baseball fans now, not just people going to a game to spend an evening, and it needs to be recognized. Besides, if we lose Game 3, Mark Redman is starting a potential Game 4, and the last thing we want is to send the series back to Philly tied and Cole Hamels on the hill for the clincher. Beating him once was great, but let's not count on having to do it again.

GO ROCKIES!

Purple Fever Believer

Jesus Fucking Tapdancing Christ on a Toaster.

It's 3 am and thank God I have no class tomorrow, because I doubt I can sleep. The adrenaline is kind of wearing off. Kind of. After waking up on the heels of 4 hours of sleep for morning class, feeling too apprehensive to eat anything except from a croissant in the morning and some chicken fingers and an apple in the evening. I went to class in the morning. I didn't eat lunch because I felt too sick with nerves. I almost passed out with exhaustion in my afternoon class, and my focus wandered badly as we finished up the last leg of 2 hours of psychology. Knowing I was going to need all the fortitude I could muster for the night's forthcoming tilt, I went home and slept for three hours or so, from 3:45 until 6:45. I woke up at dusk, feeling so nervous I could barely breathe, and added the Rockies jersey and hat to my shirt, necklace, and jacket. Then, scared but hopeful, I sallied forth to find my friend Nick and the TV he had promised to purloin for us. We chased off, or briefly assimilated, certain annoying Red Sox fans who wanted to hijack it to watch Monday Night Football (the Pats won again, of course, and who the fuck cares about them? This is my team fighting for October, people).

Game started. I was whooping, rooting, cheering, and cursing like a sailor. I was pleased as hell to see the two runs off Peavy in the first inning on a deep sac fly by Mr. Rockie Todd Helton and and an RBI single by Garrett, was stunned (but in a good way) when Yorvit actually hit a homer, and then felt like axe-chopping something when Dragon Slayer Josh Fogg lost his sword and gave up a grand slam to Adrian Gonzalez. Another run on a forceout made it 5-3, and with Peavy on the mound, you might think this was a problem.

It was not. Peavy was mortal. He yielded a solo shot to Helton in the fourth, and then a combination of ROY double/MVP single tied the game in the fifth. In the bottom of the sixth, pinch-hitter Seth Smith blasted a triple and scored on Kaz's sac fly; thanks to another defensive miscue by replacement Pods center fielder Brady Clark, Tulo hit the second triple of the inning, but failed to score when Holliday struck out. Every time he was up, however, the whole stadium was chanting, "M-V-P." It was amazing, chill-inducing, and insane.

In the bottom of the seventh, the umps blatantly missed a call on Atkins, ruling that his ball that went over the wall, hit a chair and bounced back, was a double instead of a homer. Poor Garrett has been fucked out of two homers this year, and yet again, the Rockies couldn't go for the jugular, sitting on a 6-5 advantage into the eighth. Brian Fuentes came in, admittedly got into a little trouble, and should have gotten out of the inning intact, but Holliday completely misplayed a Brian Giles fly ball and let it go over his head for a double. I slapped my hand to my face and moaned, as all the while the morons broadcasting the game on TBS salivated and continued to ride Padre jock hard enough to leave carpet burns. The Rockies couldn't come through in the eighth and Manny Corpas blew through a six-pitch ninth inning; that should have closed the game out in regulation, but since the umps had, of course, fucked poor Garrett out of his homer, it dragged on, and on, and on, close to five hours of a grueling emotional marathon. Matt Herges wriggled out of jams, the Rockies couldn't touch a ridiculous Padres 'pen, and when Jorge Julio came on for the thirteenth, I groaned aloud.

Sure enough, Julio bore out my bad feeling, walking the first hitter he faced before allowing a two-run homer to Scott Hairston, for the love of Christ. It made me sick to see the Padres whooping it up in the dugout, and I admit it, I could not bear to see the season ended on a such a bitter note, losing a winnable game in front of our raucous and screaming home crowd, silenced forever and left to wonder what could have been. I left the TV room and began the long walk back to my dorm, feeling brutally upset and bitter, broken, hollow, and empty. Basically like shit, in other words, cursing the umps for missing Atkins' homer, Matty for missing the flyball, and Jorge Julio for existing. I flung down my stuff on my bed and naturally turned on Gameday, just to see how it would end. Ramon Ortiz, of all people, came in and snuffed the rally in the top of the thirteenth, and then Trevor Hoffman, he of the all-time saves record, came in to try to put the finishing touches on a monstrously aggravating and heartbreaking loss.

He didn't. Kaz Matsui fought off tough pitches and ripped a double deep into the left-center field gap. Coors began to make some noise again, after being deadened by the Hairston homer. Then the Rookie of the Year came up and set the torch to them again with a matching blast, scoring Matsui as he rolled into second with a double. And then...

Matty had been somewhat of a scapegoat earlier in the night for blowing the flyball and striking out twice with runners in scoring position. With one swing, he sent Coors off the edge. I'm not kidding. I was watching this on Gameday, but I saw the video and... the noise the crowd makes when he lights into that ball is unbelievable. It and Brian Giles bang off the right-field scoreboard, the place is in pandemonium, Tulo scores to tie it, and Matty is safe at third with a triple. As you can imagine, my phone began ringing right now, and the first call I fielded was from Nick. He made no bones about it, "GET BACK HERE! NOW!"

Another friend called as I tore down the stairs, fumbling for my keys. I sprinted across campus back to the TV room, and I went belting up the stairs in time to see a mosh pit on the TV -- Jamey Carroll, placed in to pinch-run for Atkins after it was a "double," came through with a shallow liner to right field, Holliday charged home, dived face-first, swiped the plate with his hand as Barrett dropped the ball (dodgy call, but hey, it was karmic justice, the game should have been over in regulation) and came up bloodied and dirtied, probably feeling the best he had in his life, as his team, his city, and his mates went absofuckinglutely berserk. I screamed and threw myself on Nick. I shook. I launched myself across the room to hug his friend, who I don't even know that well. I shrieked at the top of my lungs. My legs would not support me, I fell down. A few people came up the stairs to ask if I was all right, since I was screaming bloody murder. Nick was like, "The Rockies made the playoffs, it's cool."

I screamed. I threw myself in Nick's arms again. I held on. I fell to my knees. I had earlier promised to freak out on an epic level if the Rockies won, and they did. The Holliday call was justice for screwing Atkins out of the game-winning HR, and holy shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I have no classes tomorrow, won't be in bed before 4 and may sleep all day, have homework to do that's not getting done as I live and die with my team, and I don't care. This is amazing. The Colorado Rockies are one of four NL entrants still standing with a run that defies explanation. We didn't even lead the NL wild card. We weren't tied until yesterday. And we beat the best pitcher in baseball and the all-time saves leader. I swear, you can't script this. Even Hollywood would reject it as too corny.

I don't care if Holliday supposedly didn't touch the plate. We won. He lay there dazed, Tulo flung himself over Matty, then jumped into the mosh pit. Fireworks went off. A town believed. A team fulfilled a destiny. 90-73 and a wild-card spot into the postseason and a first-round matchup with Philly. Two strong offenses, two suspect pitching staffs, the first stop on the way to immortality.

Jeff Francis vs. Cole Hamels. 3 ET Wednesday.

See you in October.

GO ROCKIES!!!!!!!!!!!

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!!!!!

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!

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...

Fireworks and the Fourth (On the Seventh)

Sorry for the lackadaisical blogging on a number of accounts: first, I'm working full-time and prefer to use my scanty time in the evenings to work on my novel instead of recapping the Rockies, and besides, until recently, the Rockies were a source of acute agony for me due to the 1-9 road trip they just suffered through, no thanks to Fuentes. (I am feeling marginally more charitable towards him now, if only because he's sitting out the next few games and seems to genuinely feel bad/be angry about his monumental fuckups). Thirdly, my computer has decided that it hates Blogger and freezes whenever I open the page in Netscape, or will not allow me to give the post a title in Internet Explorer, so I have to switch back and forth between the two in hopes of finding something that will permit me to actually update. I opened this post in Explorer, tiptoed through Netscape trying not to freeze it, and managed to get somewhere, but I remain convinced it will crash at any moment -- even though the new auto-save feature is great, I'm sure that clicking it will cause massive system failures. Oy.

Anyway! The Rockies came home from said shitaceous trip to a tough assignment -- the Mets and Phillies for their last series of the first half. And either they really, really like Coors Field, or the road trip was just an aberration, and one that they should have gone 5-5 on without Fuentes' dubious services. (They left Coors on June 21 at 38-34 and returned home on July 1 at 39-43. Yeah... ouch). But they are again beginning to resemble the team that tore through May and most of June at a 20-7 clip after brooming the Mets in three, including two blowouts (6-2, 11-3, 17-7). In doing so, the Rockies became the first team ever to sweep both the Mets and Yankees in the same year, something which I am very proud of them for doing; living in New York for college has not made me feel any more charitable towards their sports teams. I hate the Yankees with a violent and unbridled passion, and just can't summon the energy to care about the Mets; I sort of dislike them as a matter of principle. But the last game of the series, the one on July 4th, where the Rockies provided offensive fireworks early and often and then put on an actual fireworks show afterwards... well, I was there. I got two field-level tickets for $23 total (sweet Player of the Homestand deals) and me and my sister headed down for a fabulous Fourth.

Aside from the fact that the stadium was sold out and almost everyone there actually were Rockies fans, the atmosphere was great. Everyone was really into the game (except for the bottom of the fifth when the Wave went around five hundred friggin' times) and cheered loudly every time the Rockies scored, which they did absolutely relentlessly. The bottom of the first and the bottom of the eighth were the only times they didn't put at least one run on on the board, and they hit every pitcher that the Mets trotted out there like so many pinatas. Brad Hawpe had a two-run homer, Todd Helton had a two-run double and two bases-loaded walks, and Garrett Atkins enjoyed a monster night, going 4-for-5/5 RBI with a deep infield single, an absolutely crushed two-run homer, and a laser of a two-run double, picking up Player of the Game honors for his sudden offensive resurgence. Ever since that miserable May, Atkins has come on like a machine, OPSing 1.050 since June 1st, and has jacked his batting average up to a perfectly respectable, if not yet stellar, .263 from its season-low mark of .219. He is again beginning to resemble the player that went .329/29/120 last year, and his 13 homers are only two shy of Hawpe and Holliday for the team lead. (Those two seem to be having a race. In last night's game against the Phillies, Holliday jacked his at-the-time-leading 15th about 460 feet into the center-field rockpile. In the bottom of the ninth, Hawpe crushed his 15th about 430 feet to tie the game). Considering Atkins had only 3 homers at the end of May, it's been fun to watch him put it back together.

The offense is now clicking very nicely -- tablesetters Willy Taveras and Kaz Matsui use their speed to get on base and discomfit the opposition, Holliday hits a double or a homer or something else that leaves the infield at a high rate of speed, Helton fouls off six and works a walk, and then Atkins, Hawpe, and Tulowitzki are waiting to take advantage. (Tulo is hitting .285 with 9 homers, is a fantastic all-around player, and is endlessly confident. Atkins remarked that Tulo's not happy with his numbers because he thinks he should be hitting above .300 -- I love the kid's swagger and the shot in the arm he brings to the club, especially with a manager who, um, doesn't really have the winning attitude). This is a very hard lineup to get through without getting hurt -- even Yorvit Torrealba and Chris Iannetta, the constantly platooned catchers, have shown signs of offensive spark and Torrealba is 8-for-16 in his past few games. The offense was never the problem on the Road Trip from Hell, just the relieving, and with Fuentes taking a seat due to a sore back (he'll also miss the All-Star Game, which clearly he was elected into before the previous week's debacle) the bullpen looks suddenly much more trustworthy. (They worked six shutout innings last night in relief of Jeff Francis, who only went five and permitted six runs against the Phillies).

But back to that Mets game. Not only did Atkins, Hawpe, and Helton hit, everyone else hit, as well. The problem was Josh Fogg, who permitted a first-inning three-run homer to David Wright that (very briefly) made the Rockies faithful nervous that they weren't going to get that coveted sweep. Fogg ended up allowing five runs in six innings, so in other words, he's lucky that his offense opened up a nine-inning can of whoopass. Clint Hurdle made remarks to the effect that both Fogg and Jason Hirsh needed to step it up or risk losing their rotation spots -- Hirsh responded with six shutout, three-hit innings against a high-octane Mets offense in the opener, before having to leave after spraining his ankle on the basepaths. Fogg responded with, you know, the mediocre-to-bad outing which is his trademark. Due to the All-Star Break, it's likely that Hirsh could only miss one start, and the Rockies are going to have to look seriously about keeping dead weight in their rotation (and the team in general) if they hope to have a prayer of putting together a strong second-half run. This means that young Taylor Buchholz could be seeing more action as a starter, after being used temporarily in that role during Rodrigo Lopez's injury. It remains to be seen if Hurdle will actually yank Fogg from the rotation, which I've been hoping would happen since day one, and put Bucky in there instead.

But anyway, about the rest of the game. The Rockies wiped their feet on the Mets 17-7, and then the real fun started. One of our friends works as ballpark security at Coors, and he told us that sections 148 through 160 were going to be brought down onto the field itself to watch the postgame fireworks. Our tickets were in section 146, so around the eighth inning, we got up, sallied nonchalantly past the ushers while they were checking someone else's tickets, and jumped the caution tape into sect. 148, clearly put there to make sure that people didn't do exactly what we did. Nobody caught us, we watched Matt Herges stagger through a zillion-pitch ninth inning (including half a zillion pitches to Paul Lo Duca) and then it took us a long time to manuever with the crush down the stairs and onto the field. But once we got there -- oh yeah. We walked down the outfield grass by the warning track, and got a first-hand look of what it is like to stand on a baseball field with forty thousand people watching you. My sister steered us to left field, aka Matt Holliday's spot, and we sat down in the outfield grass and took off our shoes, wiggling our bare feet against the actual hallowed ground. It was amazing.

Then they turned off all the stadium lights -- have you ever been in a full-to-capacity baseball field at night with all the lights off, except for the eerie glow from the guide lights and the hundreds of flicking flashbulbs? Neither had I, until then. AMAZING, especially when you're lying on the outfield grass of Coors Field barefoot, cheering loudly with everyone else as fireworks begin to shoot up just beyond the Jumbotron. Awesome fireworks, too, and they were playing some great music -- when "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong came on, my sister and I just looked at each other and went, "Yeah." The fireworks were so loud you could feel them all the way into the ground -- it was just one of those moments that I never wanted to end. Another one of the best nights of this summer, and the reason that the hardest thing for me to leave when I return to college in the fall (something that I am looking forward to) will be the Rockies. God, I've gone crazy for them this year, it's a little sad, but who cares.

Last night they rallied back from a 6-1 deficit to win 7-6 in 11 innings, on Yorvit Torrealba's squibbler of a game-winning single. Who cares, I'll take them however they come, will probably be half relieved and half bored stupid during the All-Star Break, and look forward to see what my boys in purple and black do next. I'm going to the game again tonight, and since Rodrigo Lopez is pitching, I will have seen all the Rockies starters at least once.

Go Rockies!

Photo Day!

Yes, I finally got my lazy rear in gear and uploaded the pics from our splendiferous wonderful time at Photo Day. I know the blog hasn't been very fastidiously updated these days, but I still try to get a post at least every other day. This has something to do with starting my new job and the fact that I'm working 36 hours a week (I asked for Wednesdays off/early so we can go to Ladies' Night games at Coors, heh). In the meantime, enjoy. (Some of these pics aren't from Photo Day, so I'll label those. Also, please ignore my hair; it's not usually that frizzy and although I bear a striking resemblance to a psychotic witch, that is not really the case. I blame the hat).


This is Gillian and I at our first game of the year together -- May 16 vs. the Diamondbacks. Seeing as I got home on May 11, you can tell that I could NOT wait to get back to Coors. Also, despite appearing pregnant in this picture for some aggravating reason, I am not. I'm not even fat. Oy, I'm such a pick about how I appear in pictures, so I apologize for the running commentary.

This is Gillian and Chris Iannetta from that same day. Check out those blue eyes; they actually look like they're related.

Me and my new boyf -- I mean, Jason Hirsh, also from the May 16 game. This was right after he flung his arm around my waist, began grinning like a cheese, and temporarily put my brain circuits out of commission. Love the boy.

OKAY! Here's Photo Day.

Here's a shot to show you where we were -- i.e. right on the field. Ignore the fat woman, she's no one I know. If that is you, I apologize.

Me and my boy, Brad! Yay! Again, please ignore how psychotic I look, and trust me, Brad did put his arm around me by choice. He actually didn't run away screaming.

Gillian and Brad. Yet again, they look alike, this time by dint of matching sunglasses.

Gillian, Spilly, Garrett, and Darcy. I accidentally cut Darcy's head a bit out of this picture, but yeah, Spilly decided to mug for the camera right as I took the shot. What a ham.

Gillian can die happy now. This is her and Matt Holliday, and yes, she's deeply in love with him.

I'm not, but I do like him, and I got a picture too.

This is Darcy and Iannetta again. You have no idea how much convincing it took to get her to do a picture alone.

Me and Tulo, the Thrice-Introduced.

Gillian and Tulo.

Gillian and my boyf -- Jason. Check out the shit-eating grins on both of them.

Me, Bucky (Taylor Buchholz) and Gillian. I think this is a cute pic, actually.

Okay, the best for last. I LOVE THIS PICTURE. Me, Darcy, Gillian, and Todd giving us a big ol' bear hug. Warm fuzzy memories forever.

That's it for the photos. I'm going to go write now. I wrote a baseball-themed short story called Elysian Fields for my second-semester writing project, and now I'm redoing it as a novel. I swear, the other day, I realized that I think about baseball pretty much 24/7, and I woke up early and spent a while contemplating the philosophy of the game and why it has so much effect on me. God, do I ever need a real life.

Great Surprise!

Yesterday, the Rockies, facing off in the finale of their three-game set with the Reds, looked a little, well, unimpressive. Rodrigo Lopez permitted three earned runs (four total) in 4.1 innings, and Ramon Ramirez did yet another Hindenburg impression for the recently beleaguered pitching staff, recording a 1-inning, 4-run disaster to stretch the Reds' advantage to 8-2. He wasn't helped out by Hurdle calling for two intentional walks, both of which scored, but things were looking a bit dreary for the Blake Street boys. Garrett Atkins appeared to benefit from his days off, and cracked a 372-foot solo shot to left in his first at-bat, but it looked as if it was going to be yet another series loss at home (before this series, the Rockies hadn't won a home series since their season-opening set against the D-backs). The other run came from Atkins blipping a double into shallow right, followed by a screamer off the wall by NL Player of the Week (hooray for my boy!) Brad Hawpe.

Then a few things began to happen. Lineup deadweights Yorvit Torrealba and Jamey Carroll cracked back-to-back RBI singles in the sixth. In the bottom of the seventh, Holliday singled, and Helton and Atkins walked to load the bases. Hawpe started out in an 0-2 hole and crawled back to work a run-scoring walk. Naturally, Torrealba flew out on the second pitch to squelch the rally, but the Rockies had climbed to within 8-5 and weren't quite done.

Bottom of the eighth. Jamey Carroll and pinch-hitter Jeff Baker got aboard with sharp singles, and Willy Taveras beat out a bunt for his ML-leading 17th infield hit on the year. This left the bases loaded with no outs for Kazuo Matsui, and while I was cautiously hopeful, I didn't think that the guys were actually going to roar back to life after being down six runs. Kaz had different ideas and laced a game-tying triple down the right-field line, scoring everybody and making me scream loudly and in disbelieving delirium. Holliday struck out and Helton was walked, Atkins flew out, and my boy Brad laced a go-ahead single. (.455/3/8/.571/.955/1.526 for the week. Nice job). But the way the game was going, there was no way it was going to be easy, and Brian Fuentes, after allowing a leadoff double, had the guy picked off and threw the ball into center field instead, allowing the runner to move to third. He subsequently scored on a Jeff Conine single, and with the bottom of the order coming up in the ninth, the game moved into extras at a 9-9 deadlock, just like those halcyon days of yore in Coors Field when the park averaged about three or so homers a game.

Manny Corpas pitched a quick tenth, and in the bottom of the tenth, hero-of-the-day Matsui led off with a single. For some reason he made the pitcher nervous, and on the fifth straight pickoff attempt at first, there was naturally an error that allowed Matsui to move to second. (Karma, baby). Matt Holliday struck out again (not something he does that much) and yet again, they intentionally walked Helton. (Hurdle has yet to learn that unless he separates Helton and Atkins in the lineup, that is going to happen a lot. But does he? No, he just keeps letting them take the bat out of Helton's hands). But this time, Atkins came through with his third hit of the day, lashing the game-winning single into left field to allow Kaz to bolt home. Both of them got a hero's welcome (Atkins' helmet got knocked off, heh) and it was a very good sign to see Atkins' bat waking up out of its month-long slump. He was decent in April and horrendous in May, but Hurdle sat him for two days and stuck him back in after Jeff Baker's three GIDPs at the position a game earlier. Atkins rewarded him with the three-hit, multiple-RBI game, including his first homer since May 19 against the Royals, and now the trick will be maintaining the consistency. He's a big part of their offense that hasn't really shown yet, and if he's finally busted the slump (I shall refrain from asking how, Garrett, but I am grateful) then the offensive production might take a sharp upswing. That would be very nice to see.

Next on tap is to get Jason Hirsh on track. The Rockies have an off-day today, and then they get back in the saddle to close out their long homestand with a three-game series against the struggling Astros. (Then again, the Rockies have previously showed a remarkable inability to beat teams that are even worse than they are). Hirsh's ERA has ballooned from 3.41 to 5.10 over the course of his past few starts, and his last start was the eight-run disaster against the Cardinals. Last time, they were consistently fouling things off until they got a pitch they could drive, so finding his out pitch will be key. If he can't get it going, there are mutterings that he could see a stint at AAA when Josh Fogg comes back. I don't see how this would help, as pitching with the Sky Sox would be harder as they don't humidor the balls in Colorado Springs. A good outing would go a long way towards securing the number-four job he won out of spring training, and, you know, make me happy.