Rockies in the World Series. National League Champion Colorado Rockies. The Rockies win the pennant! The Rockies win the pennant!
Sorry, I can’t get with it. First, I don’t believe in blind league pride. Sure, I believe in pitchers who hit and double switches and Constitutional amendments that ban not just Astroturf but also walk-up music and fireworks after a measly home run no matter what the score, and I believe in slow, deep, soft, um, walks to the mound to make that call to the ‘pen.
In the fantasy league of my mind I have abolished the DH, but I don’t automatically root for the NL representative in the World Series. And I certainly won’t this year for three main reasons:
1) The uniforms. I have often railed against the Rockies’ threads. Purple? Silver? Pinstripes? Black and blue? What is wrong with these people? In the franchise’s defining moment — the image of Todd Helton squeezing the final out of last night’s game — the team leader is wearing a sleeveless black top, shiny black sleeves and white pinstripe pants. He looks like a retard.
I’m tilting at windmills, I know: sports franchises and most of the fans who love them have no taste. The Giants are no strangers to sartorial abomination; witness the pink and white “SF” caps for sale in the dugout stores. But at least management got the message when they reviewed the photos of Bonds hitting his 71st homer in 2001 while wearing a glossy black top and bleach-white pants. Blech. No more on-field embarrassments.
2) The venue. The humidor has brought to heel the pinball-laughing gas-Little League aspects of Coors Field, but it’s still silly. Any place that has to keep its baseballs in the sauna in order to play a somewhat normal game doesn’t deserve a major-league franchise.
3) God. I’m all for personal belief. God. Yahweh. Allah. The Flying Spaghetti Monster. Whatever frames your moral universe and gets you through the dark existential night of your soul without hurting others, go for it. But the Rockies are known to be a particularly devout organization, and it will be easy for those so inclined to chalk up their amazing run to divine intervention. We will see cloying, pious righteousness ooze from all corners of the nation if the Rockies win the World Series; we will be subjected to the ridiculous, narcissistic notion that God, somehow, chooses sides in North American professional baseball.
If God really wanted to send the world a message through MLB, a team of Darfurian refugees would win the World Series and teach 80% of America how to find Africa on a map. As Bud Selig handed them the trophy, they would convince everyone who’s about to buy a Hummer or an online porn subscription that the money would be better spent on food and medical supplies in their homeland.
Or at the very least He in his infinite wisdom would call on the Rockies to burn their purple uniform tops. But that isn’t going to happen, and I’ll give you three guesses why.
All that said, I won’t root against the Rockies, as I’m sure some people will, because they “don’t deserve it.” The last two years in particular have shown that the playoffs are a small-sample-size crapshoot, a place where Billy Beane’s “shit don’t work” as he once said, a showcase for the hot and the lucky, as well as the very very good. And that’s fine. Whether you like it or not, it’s more evidence that a general manager’s strategy should be to build a team good enough to make the playoffs and start lighting prayer candles, or as Al Davis might say, “Just get in, baby.”
There are schools of thought that say good defense and power pitching become even more valuable in short series. I don’t follow the research closely, so I’d love to hear what the latest and greatest theories are. But in this age of parody — er, parity — I’d like to think that a Giants team that builds a formidable pitching staff doesn’t need to be dominant in the regular season. Squeak into the playoffs with a Cain-Lincecum 1–2 punch, a strong bullpen and a slick defense, and anything can happen.
I’d rather the team has all those things plus a lineup that posts a .360 OBP and hits 200 home runs a year, but in the next year or two, I’ll keep my wishful thinking modest.
First off, a huge Booo for the "God" section. Some would say that defining the entire organization on an article about Bible studies is a little short-sighted; besides, I always thought believing in God was a good thing.
Second, I love the uniforms! If you want to see a real-crap fest, check out Arizona's base colored nightmare.