Society for American Baseball Research - Major League Baseball a Mile High: The First Quarter Century of the Colorado Rockies

By Thom as Harding

We reporters root, just not like the fans. We tell each other that we root for the story so often that the statement is on the border of crossing from truth to clich. But sometimes we root for something even more trivial. We root for ourselves to make deadline. Its not that we are machines, and its not that we so high and mighty that we cant share feelings with the fans. Its a job, and somebodys gotta do it when the stadium is sh aking.

But writing is often about sharing feelings. When you reach that point, its beau tiful.

On October 1, 2007, after shamelessly and selfishly rooting for myself, I took time to feel the Coors Field tremble and just enj oy it.

I have covered the Colorado Rockies since December 1999, for two seasons with The Gazette in Colorado Springs and since 2002 for MLB.com, when newly hired general manager Dan ODowd was frantically trading everyone he could while trying to stop the Rockies inevitable decline from success early in their days as an expansion club. By 07, I had covered exactly one better-than-.500 season the first.

In September 2007, it wasnt so much that the Rockies turned hot while going 12-1 to finish the 162-game schedule and force the October 1 National League Wild Card tiebreaker with the San Diego Padres. It was how it was done. A team worth rooting for and a story worth rooting for became one in the same.

There were tremendous feats along the way. Matt Hollidays finish should have earned him NL Most Valuable Player honors and Troy Tulowitzkis performance should have been worthy of NL Rookie of the Year (baseball writers didnt deem those good enough for the honors, but many of them still havent taken the time to understand baseball in Denver heres a book for ya). However, it was the kind of baseball my dad preached and my youth coaches tried to teach. When a runner needed to be moved, it happened. If a fielder got to a ball, it was an out. Runners ran when prudent. Throws went to the right base. Cutoffs and relays were sharp.

Of course, Game 163 was fraught with wild twists and turns, but somehow you got the feeling it would turn out right for the Rockies. The folks at Coors sure did. After Scott Hairstons home run in the top of the 13 th quieted the house and gave the Padres an 8-6 lead, the fans broke into a wild ovation as the Rockies trudged to the dugout for what turned out to be not their last chance but a new beginning to a wild posts eason.

And the Rockies won the game the righ t way.

Tie score, Matt Holliday at third after his triple. Jamey Carroll up against future Hall of Famer Trevor Hoffman. Sure it would have been nice if Carroll had homered and made it all easy. But Carroll did his thing a fly ball to right fielder Brian Giles. Hollidays slide into home plate no matter what Padres fans or stop-action replay says, he was safe sent the Rockies to the playoffs in fitting fashion, for it was Carrolls sixth sacrifice fly. Nothing like fundamental bas eball.

But that wasnt why I pounded my fist and screamed, Yes! as the celebration began. I wish I could say thats why I let out the cheer. It would have been unprofes sional.

The reason for my elation was s imple.

MLB.com is for the speedy writer. As soon as something happens, fans are refreshing their smartphones and hitting F8 on their browser. They expect detailed, accurate, and readable information righ t now.

So, while the Padres were ahead and anticipating a postseason trip and the Rockies fans were trying to will them into a comeback, I quickly completed a story on the Padres winning and advancing to the NL Division Series against the Phillies. (If this book falls into the hands of a San Diego fan, just know this: It was a well-written piece of sports journa lism).

Had Hoffman locked down the save, I wa s set.

But the second I turned that story in, I began crafting a story on a Rockies comeback. I cant say I knew it was going to happen, but A) I had seen this team pull off unexpected feats night after night, and B) I didnt want to be caught unready should it actually happen. So even before Kazuo Matsui doubled on Hoffmans 2-2 pitch, I was ready for a Mile High mi racle.

For me, the sound of the crowd faded and I was locked. See Troy Tulowitzki double in Matsui, add to my Rockies win story; save that detail for my Padres win story in case the nothing else happens. See Holliday, who had gone 1-for-5, drive one off the right-field wall, just over the leaping Giles, to tie the game; really get cracking on the comeback story. Im in tune with the game as Im dealing with these details, so I know the Padres will walk Todd Helton and Ill have time.

Now, even if youre on a deadline, you dont cheat and write a detail before it occurs. You dont want to forget you wrote it and end up with a mistake. But I looked at Carroll in the box, and even before he lifted that first pitch into short right field I could feel my fingers typing sacrifice fly.

As quickly as it all happened, somehow within seconds of the safe call, I e-mailed in my story. It was my walkoff, and I broke into a little celebration at my spot in the pres s box.

At that moment, it hit me: My outburst violated all social press box norms. I looked around and actually announced to a more-veteran reporter, who was staring at me, This is because I made deadline. Not because Im chee ring.

He looked back, more concerned with his story, and said, I dont care.