Recently, I received this note from my favorite Cardinal loving Chicagoan:

Goddamn it, it's January 13th already and you have yet to write in 2010, Emmy. Get on it! With love of course :-)
--Jeff

It was like getting a threat-mantic e-mail, threatening, but written with love.

So I figured, "I guess I should get on this."

Welcome to 2010 fellow bloggers! We're almost through the offseason! We've almost made it! I guess BSAD hit me a little harder than I thought, most of my days are spent working and when I'm not working, I can be found beneath my flannel penguin sheets (yes, I have penguin sheets, don't judge) catching up on m Z's.

Some big names like Matt Holliday and Jason Bay have now left our hot stove discussion, and for the most part, it seems as though the Rockies have remained fairly quiet in their quest for free agents. Their biggest move it seems, signing catcher Miguel Olivio, and if you want to call that news... well... I don't have anything witty to say about that.

Right now, one of hte biggest priorities for the Rockies is locking up Huston Street. Oh, wait... they did that already? Okay, then they'll need to try and come to a deal with Ryan Spilborghs to expand our outfielders and avoid arbitra... oh... they did that too? Well, seeing how the Rockies were the only club in 2009 to have five pitchers with double digit wins, it'd be nice if Jason Hammel stuck around with them... are you serious? That happened too?

So, here's the deal, fellow bloggers: I was writing this entry all about how the Rockies need to spend their money wisely, because, let's face it: the Rockies are a relatively cheap team. And I mean that in the nicest way possible, which really doesn't sound nice at all, but the Rockies don't have the deep pockets that we'd all like to see.

So here I was, talking about how after a very disappointing end to the 2009 season, everyone was like, "it was all Huston Street's fault!" And I went on this rant about how wrong these people were and comments like that were made by ignorant bandwagon fans, and if it hadn't been for Huston Street, the Rockies wouldn't have even made their way to the playoffs in the first place. Street was clutch for the team during the regular season, and it was clearly defined in the chemistry that he had with them.

Yes, this long rant now wasted because he's signed with the team. So, yes, Jefferson, once again, you were right (is that guy ever wrong?), I should've been blogging a lot earlier.

Things now seem to be coming together for the Rockies who have reached deals with Clint Barmes, Chris Iannetta, Jorge de la Rosa, Ryan Spilborghs, Huston Street, Rafael Betancourt, and Jason Hammel; the latter four of them had filed for arbitration and now the four of them will be sticking around. Our startingpitching rotation could be interesting with Jeff Francis returning after missing a significant portion of 2008 and the 2009 season. In 2007 he was thought to be the ace of the Rockies and it was projected that a Francis vs. Josh Beckett matchup would be the ultimate showdown. Obviously we know how that worked out. After not pitching for almost a year and a half, I'm interested in seeing how he'll perform.

Our starting infield is also looking good with Todd Helton, Barmes, Troy Tulowitzki, and Ian Stewart. The name that's missing? Yeah, you know it: I'll miss my dearest Garrett Atkins, I stood by his side during the worst season of his career, constantly cheering for him and celebrating just as much, if not more when he hits his heartbreaking nine homers. That's right, he didn't even hit double digits... and I can hear a certain Chicagoan snickering about that at this very moment!  Yeah, it'll break my heart not to see him in those beautiful purple pinstripes, but best of luck to him with the O's.

Most likely, our projected outfield is Brad Hawpe, Dexter Fowler, and Carlos Gonzalez. Gonzalez had a fantastic season with the Eagles during winter ball in Venezuela. The Rockies have speed with Eric Young Jr. as well as Ryan Spilborghs and a powerful bat with Seth Smith, also known as Mr. Clutch from last season.

Most important to the team is the return of manager Jim Tracy, who had incredible chemistry with the team and turned around a rough start to their season.

Last and probably most important, Haiti is still in need of our help. Imagine if every person in the world donated $1 to help out. It's so little, but adds up to so much. So if you can, please donate, there are many organizations out there.

MLB has partnered with UNICEF, The American Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders are also accepting donations. CNN also provides a list of websites that you can donate to.

The last comment my friend Jefferson gave to me was, "Emmy, don't slack." I thought, "yeah, no problem Jefferson, there's tons to write about during the off season." So, what was the first thing I did after I read that? If you're thinking, "you went and wrote a blog," you would be wrong. No, I slacked. And slacked. And slacked a little bit more. So, while my dear readers were busy keeping up with me, I was not busy keeping up with them. My sincerest apologies, oh dear readers. I appreciate the love you've shown me by stopping by here still and making me number eight on the latest leaders board (holla!).

So, while I'm here, let us talk about the atrocity known as the offseason.

Some time ago, I was messaging on my handy dandy... Blackberry!! (In case you didn't get the reference, that was from Blue's Clues... and I had to talk about my newest little gadget that has also become my newest obsession.) Anyway, I was messaging with a friend of mine who lives down in Venezuela and has the pleasure of covering winter ball for the Caribes. From what I've been learning about winter ball, it's completely amazing, but the Caribes... they're like the equivalent of the Washington Nationals.

So, we were messaging about this one game, and it was completely crazy: extra innings, bench clearing brawls, a manager ejection, and a high scoring game (Okay, I know what you're thinking, "Emily, that's nothing like the Nationals, a high scoring game? Maybe only for the opposing team, you liar" to which I would say, "hey, even the Nationals get their day... someday..." (but that's beside the point)). Just reading the messages, I couldn't help but get excited waiting for the next one. He kept me updated on the count, who was on base, who was up to bat. I was sitting there, glued to this little screen on my phone thinking, "WHAT'S HAPPENING?!?!" It didn't matter that I didn't know any of the players, that I didn't know anything about the teams; no, it was wondering what pitch, where it's located, did he swing? I was on the edge of my seat just waiting to read what would happen.

I spent Thanksgiving with my friend and her parents who live down in Colorado Springs. The Broncos game against the Giants wasn't broadcast (for some ridiculous reason) so we had to listen to the game on the radio. Listening to any game on the radio is very different from watching a game in any sport (well, I guess I really only listen to baseball on the radio, that football thing was only once). When you listen to one on the radio, you hear something like, "here's the pitch..." With a fastball, it takes approximately 0.4 seconds to travel those 60 feet six inches to get to the plate. But waiting to hear what will happen after the, "here's the pitch..." waiting that 0.4 seconds is like agony. When listening to the football game, waiting to hear if Kyle Orton's throw was completed or waiting to hear if Eli Manning completed... anything, playing that waiting game makes you so... anxious... I think that's the word I'm looking for.

So waiting for that message, waiting for that pitch count, "3-0... 3-1... 3-2... swing and a miss." Waiting for that was like listening to the radio... only harder.

To get to the point, I didn't realize how detrimental the off season is to my health until I found myself huddled around this tiny screen waiting for a message about a pitch, to a player I'd never heard of, on a team I didn't know anything about, in a country I've never been to, on a different continent.

So, while we're on the subject of my health, let's talk about something that I'm about 99% sure I have right now. Have you ever heard of seasonal affective disorder? It's basically how people react to the amount of sunlight in their environment. The typical pattern is that people have a tendency to become depressed during the fall and winter seasons (when there's less light) and then kind of normalize in the spring and summer.

I'm all for getting sunlight, I mean, Colorado is a state that does have all four seasons. But... is it possible to have seasonal affective disorder for baseball? I mean... granted, it does coincide with the timing of... regular.. seasonal affective disorder (I don't know if you'd call it "regular" since I don't really think "baseball seasonal affective disorder" would be found in the DSM).

However, I think BSAD could be a legitimate medical condition, and I think I have it. So, how does it compare to the regular SAD? Like I said, SAD is about the amount of light that you're getting in your environment; therefore, BSAD would be like the amount of baseball you get inyour environment.

Let's think about it this way, in Colorado, at least lately, we've been having like... sub zero type temperatures. Now, since it's Colorado, it's possible that in a weeks time it'll be sunny and somewhere in the 60s. So right now, it's always overcast, dark, and in general, kind of gloomy. Then there are those sunny days where things are a little bit brighter, nicer, it's a day where you want to be outside.

Same thing with baseball. Right now, I don't have any, it's gloomy, dark, and in general, a bit depressing. But there arelittle things that can only keep you satisfied for so long, like MLB Network or messaging with my friend covering winter ball. I mean... it's not having baseball, but it's as close as you can get. It's like that one sunny day out of the week of crappy ones.

So during the off season months, I lust after that spring training date or that opening day date. I mean, when we're talking hot stove, it can get a little repetitive. So I roam through the days in this... zombie-esque manner, waiting for that warm, sunny spring day in April. Granted, "zombie-esque manner" is probably not a politically correct way to describe someone with BSAD, or SAD for that matter, but I trust you'll get over it.

Being on Twitter, being surrounded by baseball fans, and being someone who received their BA in psychology, I feel qualified to diagnose most of us with BSAD. We're all... well... a little depressed right now just waiting, counting down those days until spring training arrives, and the sun comes out and the snow melts away (at least for Colorado). The days where the sun shines perfectly on that baseball diamond, where a beer and nachos (or for most baseball goers, a hot dog) is the only food you need that day to be content, where the sound of a ball hitting the sweet spot on a bat is just the best sound in the world. Yes, we lust after those days, and like anyone with SAD, we have to wait. Wait for the cold, harsh winter to be over, wait for the sun to show its face again, and wait for the day where we won't have to say, "Man... I miss baseball," because baseball would already be here.

Yes, dear friends, until that time comes, we must be the artificial light in each others lives while we wait for that day in spring. We will suffer through our BSAD together while we wait for that day that it seems we can only dream about.  

First, whoever is the first to comment on my blog will be my 600th comment. So, congrats and thank you in advance. Okay, onto the entry.

On November 3, 2008, I began writing a blog. Little did I know what I was actually getting into.

Let me fire out a small warning, because it is my blog birthday, this may turn into a slightly sappy entry. I do not know right now how it will turn out because I haven't started it yet. But right now, you've been warned, so you have nothing to complain about if by the time you reach the end of it, you're like, "Emily, that was sappy and stupid." Because you've been warned.

When I go back and read some of my old entries, I can see a lot of growth from where I started to where I am now. I have, what I would like to think is my best entry written and somewhere in the last year, my worst entry.

I recall my constant rants in the beginning on why Huston Street should be the closer and not Manny Corpas. Why we needed Garrett Atkins on the team (hmm... obviously that worked out well this season) and the Rockies would be fools to trade him.

A lot has changed in a year, and I think it helps that I'm surrounded by people who are just as passionate about something as I am, if not more. Being apart of such an amazing community as MLBlogs is really, one of the best things that has happened to me.

What I love about this site is what it's become to me. I think at this time last year, I didn't start writing about baseball with the idea that I was going to meet some of the most incredible people In fact, I'm sure most people don't expect themselves to go out and meet random people they met on the internet. I mean, c'mon, unless you're internet dating, it's a little sketchy. Apparently, not here... at least, not for me. I'm sure most people don't expect to meet a person who puts everything on the line to follow their dreams, or a die-hard Boston fan, a person who'd be a huge sports influence, or even someone who becomes like a little sister (minus the sibling rivalry). I mean, when this was created, did anyone think it'd become what it has, at least, what it has for me? Not only that, but I'm going to go on and meet just as amazing people.

To be honest, until I joined up here, I didn't know anything about anyone else's team. I think it's so cool when I go to the ballpark and can be like, "I think that's insert ballplayer's name here" because I read someone's blog.

Being someone who lacks confidence in their abilities, it was cool to log on on January 20th and be the featured blog! I want to remember that moment, how much it made me smile. It's been so cool to be able to log onto the cover page and be like, "whoa... it's me!"

I'll never forget that on April 30, I got to meet Tom and the Rockpile Ranter. That was probably one of the best days of my life as I got to know people who care about something as much as I do. Tom had great and amazing life experiences to share with me, and I was honored to hear about all of them. He had such incredible stories and was completely fascinating to listen to. Growing up, I had a father who liked to garden and a mother who liked to shop. I never had a sports influence in my life, it was something that developed on it's own. However, after coming to this site, my love of the Rockies and baseball was nurtured by the Rockpile Ranter; the man who gave me my first glove, who handed me my first major league ball, who taught me how to catch a ball. I mean, you're talking to someone who had no idea how to throw or catch a ball. Don was a huge sports influence on my life I'll never forget when Tom and I were on the cover with the picture Don took, because that really was an amazing day.

I'll never forget being next to the President while being the featured blog, being in a little square right next to Andre Ethier (because, well... he's one of two Dodgers that I like),

when Coors Field was on the cover page. These are things that have stuck with me.

I've even been featured on Matt Daley's fan page! Which is either because people think that I'm a big fan of his or they think I need a restraining order... one of those... hopefully not the latter. I've loved being able to write about how amazing I think his pitching is and share that with people and turn them into high sock, Dora the Explorer backpack, crazy pitching style lovers too! I can't express how great that is to be able to share with all of you about my fanhood.

The first comment I ever got on my blog was from Kaybee, a die hard Padres fan. I remember how excited I was to actually get a comment! I was like, "oh my god! Someone read this!" My best guess is that my first comment was on the Rockpile Ranter's blog. I'll be honest, I'm too lazy to go back and see when I stopped being shy around here and actually commented on someone's blog.

It took me forever to do, but I went through and checked my latest leaders stats, and here's where I've been:

January 29 - February 4                             #41
February 5 - 15                                           #35
February 17 - 23                                         #47
February 24 - March 2                                #28
March 3 - 11                                                #41
March 12 - 27                                             #35
March 28 - April 14                                     #50
April 15 - May 18                                        #13
June 2009                                                  #13
July 2009                                                    #6
August 2009                                               #4
Regular Season 2009                                 #7

I can't say enough how cool it's been for me to be apart of something like this. To be apart of the greatest game on earth and be apart of your lives. I appreciate every person who reads my blog, really, I do. I know I don't show it a lot, ya know, going almost a month between blogging, but it's been awesome to be here. So thank you all so much for reading and putting me on the leaders board, I am really honored to be up there among some amazing and incredible writers.

I've had a great time writing here, and I hope to continue writing and I hope you'll continue reading. So, since I haven't said it yet, happy belated blog birthday to me! 

If there's one thing I've learned, it's baseball is very superstitious. Todd Helton is not only the Toddfather, but the Father of Superstition as well. For example, he recently shaved off all his facial hair. Most would accredit this to his 0-15 slump, however; Todd will tell you it was a mistake he made while shaving. Todd's had the same facial hair for quite some time, but... I guess everyone can make a mistake, although I'm not entirely sure it was one. Now, he grew it back, but he did get a hit that day.

Since watching baseball, I've begun to become a little superstitious myself. Let's rewind to two days ago, the first day of the postseason:

I was set. 12 hours of baseball and an HD TV.

The only thing that was missing was the beer. Of course, being a lightweight, 12:37 was a little early to start my drinking, so it wasn't terribly missed. Yeah, sometimes it pays to be asian (cheap date).

I sat down; ready to watch the Rockies take on the Phillies. 12 hours of baseball meant I wasgoing to sit in my pajamas and my new Rockies sweatshirt.

"Bring on that Rocktober magic."

No doubt, there was magic... that is, up until the fifth inning of that game. The Rockies gave up five runs between the fifth and sixth, suddenly, the magic entering the game seemed to fade. The Rockies faces lacked the luster they had when the first pitch was thrown, and the sheen of being the team to start off the playoffs right was deteriorating before my eyes.

"Wh... what is happening?!"

However, the brilliance of Cliff Lee certainly did not lack. Credit must be given where credit is due, and that guy? He was spot on. Giving up six hits and one run, throwing a complete game.

If we're taking the Harold Reynolds approach, "here's a guy" who wasn't even talked about during the trade deadline. It was all about Roy Halladay and the possibility of him moving to the Phils. So, Cliff Lee? That acquisitioin seemed to pay off (possibly understatement of the year).

My beloved Rockies would fall to the Phillies that day, and it hurt. Bad.

I had looked so forward to this moment, to this game, and now that the Rockies had taken such a beat down... it was like my soul hurt.

"It's just game one... it's just game one." It was like being in the Wizard of Oz and reciting tomyself, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." We can come back... we have o come back.

The Rockies have been on fire at home, so in reality there really is "no place like home."

Next up was the Twins and Yankees game. For the most part, I didn't care tons. Sorry TWinkies, but the Yanks are a damn good team, I don't see many beating them out despite my dearest friend's opinion.

However, I was cheering for the Twins. With the Red Sox, being my number two team, there is certainly no room for Yankees cheering.

Although the Twins would strike first, the Yankees would be quick to respond. I watched, yet again, as the team I had hoped to see win fell.

I have one more chance for redemption. The Cardinals are my number three team.

"Please don't fail me."

How could they? An ace on the mound, Albert "God" Pujols, Matt "Everyday's a holiday" Holliday, no way, the Cards had to win.

However, I faced disappointment. Again.

The Dodgers would not let up, pushing runs, pushing defense. Both teams had amazing scoring opportunities, in fact, they had a combined total of 30 men left on base! But the Cardinals just couldn't catch a break.

I couldn't catch a break either. All three teams I wanted to see win lost that day. After that Rockies loss, it was like adding insult to injury.

My sweatshirt had failed me. "How can this be?" The first thing I did when I got it was sprayed linen spray on it and called it "not smelling like it came out of the maufacturer's ten minutes ago." You know, that new clothes smell, but not nice new clothes...?

When I first got my Matt Daley shirt, I went and watched the game with my good friend after being super domesticated. It was that day when Rafael Betancourt gave up a grand slam.My shirt had failed me that day, but after washing it, it's won every time I've worn it.

The same had to be done with my sweatshirt. It needed a wash; the stench of loss is far worse than any "new sweatshirt" smell. I was confident in my sweatshirt's winning capability after the wash. I was ready for game two.

And what a game two it was.

The Rockies came out swinging, and before I knew it, we were up 4-0. Aaron Cook was on fire! Which was good considering it'd been some time since he pitched. However, worry struck in the sixth inning when Cook's sinker was no longer sinking and the Phillies would start a rally that felt like it wouldn't end. Huston Street came into the ninth inning and was able to shut down the Phillies, and now the series is tied after a nail biting 5-4 win.

Next was the Cardinals game. I felt confident in the ability of my sweatshirt after that. The Rockies won after I washed my sweatshirt, it was like my Matt Daley shirt. "Cardinals, don't prove me wrong."

The Cardinals, however, would. But I can't be entirely sure it was my sweatshirt. When I left the Cards to hit the grocery store, they were up 2-1. I didn't want to leave, but my dad needed me to go get dinner since he was sick. I returned to find the Cardinals had lost, not only that, but Matt Holliday had a huge error.

Suddenly, I realized... it was my fault. I left at a critical point in the game. How could I do that to the Cardinals? I left, wearing my sweatshirt, to go to the grocery store. I failed the Cardinals... and now they're 0-2.

I had to move on, it was time for my number two team, and I couldn't go into it feeling guilt ridden. However, I would miss various portions due to eating dinner and putting together a shelf. The Angels would win the game 5-0. Once again, I left down another team, this time my beloved Red Sox.

So, the sweatshirt would win the Rockies game for me... but I had no one to blame but myselffor the other losses. I should've known better than to leave a game at such a crucial point. I should've waited to put together that shelf.

It's superstition, and it's gotten the best of me. Suspicious of my sweatshirt, my Daley shirt, my baseball socks, all these things.

I may not adjust my batting gloves after every pitch like Troy Tulowitzki or take my hat off and readjust it on my head like Huston Street after he throws a pitch; but everyone's got their quirks, their habits. And now, I have mine.

I decided that I needed something to blog about during the off-season, which is why I've held off blogging about my trip to Boston and New York. So, in the meantime, you'll have to deal with my other ramblings.

For those of you that don't know, I am now a working person. It's not like I have an upstanding "adult" job or anything, but I guess I'll take what I can get right now.

My friends always told me, "Emily, you really need to get a job at Coors Field." Well, in August, the concessions that go through Coors, Aramark, happened to be hiring. I figured, what the hell, I'll give it a shot. Well, lo and behold, I was hired as a club level food runner.

I'll tell you right now, it's not the best job in the world, but the reason that I really love it is that I get to be at the ballpark everyday... well, everyday that the Rockies are playing.

I get to watch the Rockies take batting practice. I get to see Matt Daley with his socks in the outfield during BP. I get to see the players messing around before the gates are open. I get to see guys from opposing teams hug each other because they're old friends. I get to be there when homeruns are hit, when the most unthinkable plays are made. I love every moment of being at the ballpark. It's not the job that keeps me coming back, it's the Rockies.

Well, while working this fantastical job, like any job, it's had its moments.

One day I was taking food out when I walked by this guy. I knew this guy, but I couldn't place him for the life of me. The teachers and professors that usually stick out in my mind are my math teachers. I was trying to remember if I had him as a teacher in high school, I thought about my math classes. "Was that... Mr. Tolmachoff?" No, it wasn't him; this guy wasn't as heavy set. Who is it?! I couldn't think, so I let the thought settle in the back of my mind. I left work, still thinking about how I knew this guy that I had walked by, in fact I slept on it. The next morning I woke up, still thinking. It was going to drive me crazy, this had been on my mind for the past 12 hours. Finally, it struck. I know who that guy was... it was Clint Hurdle! Yes, like a rookie, I passed by Clint Hurdle without even recognizing him. And if you're wondering, Jeff, no, he wasn't glowing orange. I couldn't believe what I'd missed. Rookie.

Everyday, there's a door that I walk by... twice. When I'm walking into work and when I'm leaving work I walk by this door. I know what's happening on the other side of this door, but nonetheless, it's got this huge lock on it. Some days when I'm leaving work, the door is just cracked open enough that you can see inside, the only thing you can see though is a wall of vines. I've dreamed of just walking in this door and visiting, perhaps if I was giving a lesson in "How to get a restraining order 101," then I could just walk into this door.

Yes, when I arrive at Coors Field, I have the honor of walking by the Rockies bullpen (yeah, the picture is only a little blurry), obsessed with the opportunity to just go in and talk to my favorite relieving pitchers. "Hey Matt Belisle... your socks are pretty fantastic." "Huston STreet, you're such a phenomenal closer!" "Matt Daley... you're like... my favorite reliever!" Yeah, but like I said: how to get a restraining order 101.

There was one day where I walked by the visitors bullpen door when the Rockies were playing the Padres and the Padres bullpen catcher and someone else were standing outside of it. I was very tempted to approach them and say hi, but then decided that it might be weird.

When I was waiting for my supervisor under the stadium, I once thought I saw Manny Corpas walking by. I have no idea if it was actually hiim or not, because it was when he was injured, so I don't know what he'd be doing walking around the stadium and not dressed out. And if you're wondering, no, I haven't wandered around trying to find the dugout or the locker rooms; I do have some dignity.

Oh yeah, and did I mention that the Rockies are going to the playoffs?! Yeah, old news, but it's Rocktober... take two!! You know what that means? The state of Colorado has decided that it's okay to be a Rockies fan again, NLDS tickets are totally sold out, so if you're looking to get into a seat for the post season, prepare to pay a boat load of money from scalpers!

A big crowd will be good for the Rockies esteem. Right now, the wild card seems to be a pretty good place for them. Although it would've been ideal to see them win the division and have home field advantage, the point is, we made it. What I love about the wild card is that it's just that... a wild card! We'll see what the Rockies are capable of when it comes to the game!

One more thing, I love getting to know people who read my blog and follow me on Twitter, really I do. But it'd be great if you could le tme know that you read my blog when you send out a friend request, just so I know who you are.

Dear Emily,
Where have you been?

That's a good question. As you can see, I haven't blogged in quite some time.

Let me tell you, I've developed quite a larger respect for those of you who can work a full time job and write a halfway decent blog as well. I work a part time job and can't find the time to do much of anything.

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you'd know that I spent the end of August in Boston and New York. Well, I took about 700 pictures at the Red Sox game and another 700 at the Yankees game. I, by some miracle, managed to edit the Red Sox pictures down to 214; however, I have yet to start on the Yankees pictures. So you must still await the time when those will be posted. But, here's a quick preview with a couple pictures:

Okay, so my Yankees pictures didn't turn out great, I certainly don't claim to be a photographer.

After checking the latest leaders board, I was surprised to see that I had moved up to the lovely number four. It's a HUGE honor to be among that number, I have the utmost admiration for the blogs above me and often lust after having the capacities to write as well as they do, I lust after being able to write as well as many of you out there. So, I figured that since all of you have helped me to attain number four, it was about time for me to stop being so lazy and actually write something up.

So, I thought about it... and thought about it... and thought about it. It wasn't just work keeping me busy, it was writers block. "These people put me at number four, they've been reading my stuff, how can I possibly live up to their expectations?" I admired my last blog, it was written with heart, I could post up anything, and it just would lack heart, passion, and thoughtfulness. So I pondered over this more, "Think Emily, think."

Finally, it struck. How could I have not thought of this before?

My blog is about baseball, mostly about the Rockies. The answer had been sitting in front of me the entire time. The Rockies were in a slump before this event occurred, I'm in a slump. The Rockies managed to get out of it, remember how?

It was none other than the new skipper, Jim Tracy.

By a stroke of genius, the very man who helped get the Rockies out of their slump could help me get out of my slump, and it works out, he sits in the dugout with the number four sewn to his jersey.

Yes, a stroke of brilliance that I actually owe to our skipper.

I remember looking at Twitter when I read the news that Clint Hurdle was to be released by the Rockies. I can't say I was surprised; rumors were swirling about the fate of his career. I haven't ben a baseball fan long, so when Jim Tracy stepped up to the plate to take Hurdle's spot, i had no clue who he was.

With that in mind, I won't give you the history of Jim Tracy, his career, or where he's been with his life. Instead, I'll tell you how I feel about him. I've had about three and a half months to get to know our dear new manager, and I immediately was in awe of him.

Despite the fact that he was at Coors Field and I was sitting at home, I could tell the demeanor in the dugout was different. Do you know what I mean? It's like when you get bad vibes from someone, you don't have to talk to them to be getting bad vibes from them, you just know. That's how it was with Jim... only, not bad vibes, just a different feeling with the players in the dugout.

The best thing about Skip is the exuberance he shows for his team. When I look to a baseball team, I see brothers; they're more than teammates, more than friends, they're family. I love to see the joy in Jim's face when the Rockies win it in a walk off. He doesn't hesitate to show the love for his team, he's genuine.

During the post game show, you'll see him talking to the press and he never fails to give credit to the other team when credit is due. "They outplayed us," "we were outplayed," "we didn't play good baseball." Tracy shows a large admiration for this amazing game, and I have grown to have the utmost respect for him.

He's a powerful feature in the clubhouse. When he came in on May 29, I had no idea what to expect. A change in the middle of the season can either make or break it, and fortunately for the Rockies, he made it. It was a whole new ball club, a winning ball club.

I can't help but admire our skipper. He's calm, collected, and that's what's important in the clubhouse. If you stress out down there, you're going to be putting stress on your whole team. I've seen Jim thrown out once, and anyone could see that the Ump was wrong, even the other team had to know the Ump was wrong. He's a legit guy, and I am absolutely a fan of this man and the demeanor that he brings to this team. It's obvious he's turned them around to be a winning team, one that is a threat and contender for the post season.

One last thing to note: I have quite the favorite relieving pitcher, and the numbers on his jersey happen to add up to four. So, I have to give a shout out to him as well. Since Tom Runnells is a bench coach and the Rockies don't have a 13, it must be 31... MATT DALEY!!

Yes, if you follow me on Twitter or are friends with me on Facebook, you'll know that I have a special place in my heart for this pitcher. As I flew into LaGuardia Airport, I looked down and actually SAW Citi Field!! Then I thought of Matt Daley, I know, nerd. When in New York, I attempted to get into Citi Field, but apparently I do not know the lingo of scalpers (you'll hear more about that later). Anyway, on April 25 against the Dodgers, I watched as this 27-year-old pitcher that I had never heard of pitch... like a weirdo.

"Um... who is this guy?"

Have you seen the way Daley pitches?! It's completely unconventional and completely phenomenal.

I have so much respect for Matt Daley when I see him take the mound, I mean, the guy wears a pink Dora the Explorer backpack... and pulls it off! We also know that I'm a sucker for high socks and Matt is always rocking the high socks. Because of my love for Matt Daley, I know I have turned some of you into Matt Daley lovers as well.

It is times like these where we need to unite as fans of Matt Daley, and what better place to do so than on Facebook? An entire fan page devoted to the amazingness of Dora the Explorer backpacks, high socks, and unconventional pitching; a page devoted to the amazingness that is Matt Daley. I feel like after that sentence there should have been one of those like... sound effects and sparkles so it was like, "SHING!! Sparkle, sparkle." I guess that's how I'd spell out that sound effect.

So, I would encourage you to join this group, because Matt Daley, well, he's fantastic.

The other day I was looking through my profile pictures on Facebook. I came across one that I had posted on April 11th; it was Nick Adenhart.

My heart felt heavy as I remembered watching the news on April 10th and learning of his death. Learning about his pitching, his 1-0 record, his 6.00 ERA, and his nine strikeouts.

For some reason, on this day, his death struck me with a surplus of grief. He was a few months younger than I was and he was living his dream.

I consider myself to be on a constant spiritual quest, while I don't claim to be religious nor believe in a god, I contemplated the most pronounced features I knew about Adenhart.

He wore number 34. Perhaps it's a stretch, or merely coincidence, but the numbers three and four add up to seven. Being someone who once considered herself religious, I thought about the number seven and the context it had toward Adenhart, I stumbled across a website that explained it to me:

"When man began to analyze and combine numbers, he developed other interesting symbols. He took the perfect world number, four, and added it to the perfect divine number, three, and got seven, the most sacred number to the Hebrews. It was earth crowned with heaven - the four square earth plus the divine completeness of God. So we have seven expressing completeness through union of earth with heaven. This number is used more than all other numbers in the Word of God...

"The whole Word of God is founded upon the number seven. It stands for the seventh day of the creation week and speaks to the millennial rest day. It denotes completeness or perfection."

I sat and wondered if Adenhart had thought of these things, he pitched for the Angels, his number when broken down, was considered divine. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn't. Had he ever considered himself to be a mark of perfection? I don't think that anyone ever considers themselves perfect, I don't think anyone ever considers themselves divine, but had these ideas ever crossed his mind?

I pondered the man who had taken Adenhart's life away from him, away from the Angels, away from us. Had he thought about these things? Did he think about the lives he'd impact when he got into a car with a BAC higher than 0.19? Had he considered what he'd taken away when he plead "not guilty"?

I don't claim to have been friends with Adenhart or even have heard of him before his death; but somehow, it struck a note with me. On some level, I'd like to have the belief that Adenhart's team and number are no coincidence, and somehow he really does represent that of an angel, maybe watching over his team; but the skeptic in me wants to dismiss it.

The key phrase is "wants to." There was something very settling about looking at Nick's picture that day, a calming presence that simultaneously moved me to tears. Like I said before, maybe it was coincidence, or maybe there's something bigger. Either way, despite not knowing Adenheart, despite not hearing of him until his death, I can't help but think of him often, linger on what might or might not be, and think that maybe, just maybe, he's watching over me too. Maybe it wasn't coincidence that I wrote this blog, maybe it wasn't coincidence that his number was somehow broken down in my mind, maybe we all need an angel to believe in, maybe Nick is that Angel.

The average Rockies game contains about 20,000 to 30,000 people, probably more lately since the state of Colorado has decided to jump on the bandwagon. Of those 20,000 to 30,000 people, I represent one. I don't expect that the Rockies or FSN will take note of the lowly asian sitting out in the Pavilion; in fact, I don't expect really anyone to notice me out there, I blend in quite well with the blanket of Rockies t-shirts out there.

Of the, I have no idea how many, possibly thousands of blogs on MLBlogs, I represent one. One single Rockies blog in a sea of major league blogs; an average blogger whose writing is... well... average. I don't expect to get noticed for it, although I wouldn't mind if someone had talked to me before putting up that terrible picture of Matt Daley on the Rockies homepage.

As a fan, I suppose in reality, we don't expect to get noticed for our fanhood. We move through the crowds, maybe hoping to catch a homerun ball here or avoid a bat flying at our head there, be apart of the greatest game on earth somehow. As much as I would like for the Rockies to say, "hey, these are some good pictures, and this is a good blog, we should've talked to her before putting up that picture of Matt Daley where he looks like he's sleeping," the reality of ever actually getting noticed is slim. After all, for each of us as an individual, we are but one fan.

One fan sitting out in the crowd, one fan writing just another blog.

However, this one fan got their five seconds of fame for ten seconds. Make sense?

On July 5th, I received a few text messages from friends saying I had just been on television. That's right, yours truly was standing in the crowd singing "God Bless America" and was shown on television next to a rather strange looking, "maybe I should stand uncomfortably close to you" dude.

Okay, so, he wasn't that uncomfortably close, it just looks to me like he is.

It was my five seconds of glory, which I think we all kind of expect to get one day, the five seconds of catching a ball, the five seconds of screaming on the Rockies post game show and having Tom Helmer stick the microphone out toward the crowd, the five seconds of being the only fan sitting in the stands while it's pouring and the game is still playing.

Not that I'm letting it go to my head or anything, but it was cool to hit a bar with my friends, JENN AND MARY, and have the bartender say, "Hey! You were on TV during the Rockies game!" (Not as exciting as it sounds, it was a bar that they frequent so the bartender actually kind of knows me.)

Yes, I had my five seconds of glory being on television, but, the fun didn't stop there for me.

On July 25th, I went to the Rockies Fan Photo Day, which was amazing!! I stood in line waiting for my friends, JENN AND MARY who, to no one's surprise, were late... and by "no one's surprise," I mean mine. A girl later approached me and our conversation went something like this:

"Are you Emily from MLBlogs?"

"Yes!"

"I read your blog!"

I was about to be really embarrassed if this was a person who had commented on my posts and I never commented on hers.

"Oh, really? Thank you so much, that's awesome! Do you write a blog?"

"No, but I go through and read some of them."

How did she recognize me?

It was the Garrett Atkins shirt and the Red Sox bag, my indistinguishable trademarks.

It was like one small step for me, one giant step for bloggers!

So, Emily was recognized by Emily at Fan Photo Day.

It was pretty spectacular, I was really stoked; and since Emily, I know you'll be reading this, I really appreciate it. Thank you so much for reading, it's greatly, greatly appreciated. I hope we meet up again at a Rockies game. Look for me in the Pavilion, that's where I usually sit.

There it is, I had my five seconds of glory for ten seconds. The way I see it, that's it, I've used mine up, so I probably won't have any more moments of glory in my life.

With that in mind, thanks to everyone who reads my blog! I like writing them, reading and commenting on others, and getting comments. It's cool to do.

Okay, so Rockies Fan Photo Day was AMAZING!!!

I got my picture with Garrett Atkins, as you may have noticed from my new profile picture. It went down like this:

"Oh my god, he's coming!!!"

"Hi..."

"Hi."

"You're like... my favorite player in the majors..."

"Thanks."

And that was it. Possibly the greatest five seconds of my life.

I expect that throughout the rest of that time, Garrett Atkins heard, "You're my favorite player," or "I'm your biggest fan" at least 400 times. I don't expect that mine stuck out to him or that he would even remember me telling him. What's important is that I know I told him, and I actually meant it. That's not to say that no one else who met him and told him that that day didn't mean it, but, well, I guess you all know how ridiculously crazy I am about him.

For the most part, Fan Photo Day was uneventful. It was: players come up, take a picture with you, leave. Some things to report:

Ryan Spilborghs is still elusive to me. I was so close to getting a picture with him and then the people running the event ushered him elsewhere. I couldn't even believe that, he was like, five people away from me. It was a little heartbreaking.

I met Tom Runnells, and he was hilarious. I'd heard that he was a really nice guy from Tommy, but Runnells now sticks out in my memory. He approached and I was so excited I was like, "Tom Runnells!" And he was like, "Yes?" And I said, "Oh... nothing, I'm just excited." So I shook his hand and he was like, "You can stop shaking my hand now," although I wasn't really shaking his hand anymore, he was just shaking mine and then kept joking that I wouldn't let go of his hand, even though it was the... opposite... or... maybe you had to be there.

I accidentally stepped on Josh Fogg's foot and had a mild freakout about it. It wasn't really stepping on his foot, it was more like I kind of tripped on his foot. Anyway, he was cool about it.

My friend Jenn tripped and used Dexter Fowler's jersey to help hold herself up. I find that far more hilarious that she used his own jersey.

I really wanted pictures with Jason Hammel, Huston Street, Todd Helton, Clint Barmes, Brad Hawpe, and Omar Quintanilla, but they are now elusive to me as well.

Other stuff:

I have decided that I am in need of a vacation from not going to school and, until recently, unemployment. Therefore, I am headed up to New York to see my friend. I was trying to work it out so I could go to Washington DC first, but I wasn't thrilled about the idea of heading there by myself and having to pay for my own hotel. It's too bad airports don't let you store stuff in lockers these days, or at least the ones in Washington DC don't.

I curse Washington DC for not doing that because I have never been to another ballpark, let alone a ballpark that my boys are playing at! Oh well, plans didn't work out for that, I'll survive.

So, since DC isn't happening, I will be headed straight to New York and once up there, straight to Boston. Up to Boston for what you might ask? A RED SOX / YANKEES GAME!!

Yes, I am going to witness the GREATEST rivalry in the history of sports. I am, in a word, stoked. I will cheer loud for the Red Sox and won't worry about getting beat up since I'll be in Boston. I guess the biggest concern is being in New York with my Red Sox jersey bag, maybe I'll get beat up there. That may have sounded like I was too eager to get beaten up. Don't be fooled, I am not eager to get beat up.

While in Boston, I hope to meet up with none other than Julia over at Julia's Rants. It will be EPIC. As disappointed as I am that things didn't seem to work out for DC, I'm pretty stoked to head up to New York and Boston. Any advice?

That's my big news. I'll leave you with Rockies pictures that I got from Fan Photo Day:

Aaron Cook:
Chris Iannetta:
Ian Stewart:Jason Marquis:Jeff Francis:Juan Rincon:Yorvit TorrealbaMatt Daley:Jeff Francis and Seth Smith (quite possibly my favorite picture):

I wanted to write anther entry about Fan Photo Day and the awesomeness that ensued and about my upcoming trip to Boston and how I don't get to go to Washington DC, but in light of recent events, this entry was, as Jeff Francis says to Ubaldo Jimenez in the Dodgeball commercial, "necessito!"

This started out as a regular entry, and then a lot of "I's" and "you's" kept showing up, so I ended up having to turn it into a letter, or else it'd sound like I was blaming all of you readers for the PED shenanigans.

Dear MLBPA,

You Suck.

Love,
Me








Just kidding.








Dear Major League Baseball Players Association and Major League Baseball,

There's no doubt in my mind that by now you've heard all you can from the fans about the use of steroids in baseball. One by one, our heroes seem to be nothing more than a shattered, broken image. A once famous slugger, a once home run record breaker, a once respected player, now nothing more than a tainted record in the history books.

Odds are, you're not too interested in hearing about my life, but I'll tell you anyway. In 2004, the first time I came home from college, I arrived at a house where my father's belongings were not. I found out my parents were separated and getting a divorce, and that was my welcome home from college. After that, I lived on my own for four years while going to school. Now, I'm living with my dad until I can find a place of my own.

I know that both my parents have worked very hard to provide me with what feels like a home, but neither house is; it's either my dad's house or my mom's house, but not my home.

Since seventh grade, I've been in an uphill battle with depression. Since moving down to Denver, I can't find a job, I have no friends down here, and I struggle with my happiness everyday. Most people you meet will wake up looking forward to the day ahead of them; I can barely get out of bed.

As ridiculous as this may sound, the purest joy that I get in my life comes from the game of baseball. I've never been happier than when I'm at Coors Field, the Rockies' ballpark; even when the Rockies are losing, it's where I'm happiest, it's my favorite place to be, it's where I feel home.

Baseball is like my love affair, it's my light at the end of the tunnel, it's the only thing that's mine that I feel like I have truly fallen in love with. Some people fall in love with men, some fall in love with women, and I fell in love with baseball. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

I don't care about the list of 104 players from 2003; I care about the future of this sport, the future of the greatest game on earth. It's become abundantly clear that the association is no longer striving to protect the players from themselves, their trainers, or their agents. It's become abundantly clear that you, as the players association, don't seem to care about the problem at all.

You and I, we're a lot alike in the sense that when a problem arises, we tend to ignore it with the hope it'll just... go away, at least that's the sense I've gotten. Maybe the problem will take care of itself, maybe someone else will take care of it, or maybe sweeping it under the rug will disguise it from everyone else. The difference between you and I is that I'm not a union. I'm one person, I write a blog about baseball, I take pictures of baseball, and I want to stand against steroids. It can't, and shouldn't be the responsibility of the fans to take action; it shouldn't have to be a fan who says, "enough is enough." It's time for the words "slugger" and "steroid user" to no longer by synonymous. It's time that baseball and performance enhancing drugs no longer have a relation. It's time for you, as the union, to feel the same way I do.

My uncle and I were having a discussion about lying, and he shared with me the quote, "I'm not mad because you lied, I'm sad because I can never trust you again." I don't want to have to feel that way about baseball anymore. So players lied, everyone lies, but trust broken can be impossible to gain back. I want to trust the players that I love, I want to trust the sport that I love, and I want to trust you, to keep that responsibility.

I don't feel like I'm asking too much, I want a win to be a win, I want a record to be a record, and I don't want to have to suspect either is tainted. I want you as the association to care, I want the integrity of my favorite sport to be in tact by the time I reach 30, and I want a future for baseball, the game that I love.

As far as I could tell, it was a game you were supposed to love too. It's time to no longer let it be run by a drug that ruins bodies, minds, and records. It's time for you to remember why you fell in love with baseball in the first place.

Thanks so much,

Emily

This blog is long overdue, I apologize.

In this day and age, it seems harder and harder for us, as fans, to trust and respect a player. We hear commentators talk about future Hall of Famers like Alex Rodriguez or Manny Ramirez, Mark McGwire or Barry Bonds. We hear the rumors of steroids, PEDs, and for some, fertility drugs. While it appears that this is a trend that the world of baseball cannot seem to escape from, every once in a while, we find a few shining stars.

Every once in a while, we're lucky enough to find a player who lives up to the hype, lives up to the demands, lives up to the expectations of the fans - which for no player is an easy feat. We find a player who is a class act, one with a good work ethic, and one who would sacrifice their own stats to see the team succeed.

The Colorado Rockies are lucky enough to have a class act like Todd Helton as the player who represents those demands.

On July 22nd, 2009, Todd Helton joined an elite club as the 50th player to make 500 career doubles and the 19th player to attain this accomplishment with the same team.

After his 2000th hit, ESPN's Baseball Tonight dismissed Helton's accomplishments as a product of the thin air in the mile high city, not because of the phenomenal hitter that he is.

In reality, a player like Helton hardly gets the respect that he truly deserves. Although for most fans, when he arrives on the field, he commands respect, not because he's a player who believes he is god's gift to baseball, but because he truly deserves the recognition. Helton is a humble player, not one to make a play and strike a pose. If you were to pick up a paper and read about Todd Helton, the article wouldn't start out as "Todd being Todd."

In an article I read, someone mentioned that Todd Helton joined an even more elite group of Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, and Stan "The Man" Musial as the only players with 500 doubles, 320 homers, and a .325 batting average since 1900. Now, I don't know if that's true or not, but it's well worth the mention if it is.

Helton has had the power to return to the game after undergoing arthroscopic surgery to relieve pressure on a bulging disc in his back. He's not just had the power to return, but he's come back as better than ever, and as far as anyone is concerned, he has more baseball in him.

He is the shining star of the Rockies, usually the only player that any bandwagoner can name, and now, he's accomplished an act that only 49 others before him could. A class act like Todd Helton deserves more baseball, deserves more respect, and as a Rockies fan, it's an honor to have him play for our team.