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 waite
d 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.