With the possible exception of Tom Landry, Hank Stram and Vince Lombardi, baseball managers have always seemed more epic, uniquely American characters than football coaches. (Basketball coaches are always trying to sell you something.) These men, these old salts, they're not John Wayne: It's difficult to be stoic and taciturn when you are pulling a base out of the ground and throwing it. They're more like sea captains, grizzled veterans of maritime battle, prone to eruption, prickly but soft underneath. They are tempestuous, difficult-to-please fathers, whose approval we strive for, collectors of a Great Wisdom, hard-earned, that they have passed from generation to generation. To win their respect, a man must pay his dues. The great teams all had managers who guided them to the mountaintop. At the end of the season, through a champagne-soaked mustache, they would, at last, smile.

At least that's how I always imagined them. But then advanced baseball analysis came about, and it began to appear that managers didn't do all that much at all. Lineup construction was proven negligible. Specialization limited the number of decisions a manager had to make in the first place. High-def cameras placed within inches of every manager's face led to the sneaking suspicion that a large part of one's managerial job is sitting down, chewing gum and trying to avoid being caught picking one's nose. The job of a manager was broken down into: Don't destroy the young pitchers, don't punch your players in the face and don't sign up for Twitter. Like most revelations sabermetrics bring us, this made total logical sense and took a lot of fun out of the whole matter.

How, then, to explain the 2009 Colorado Rockies? At the time the Rockies fired manager Clint Hurdle, they were considered a lost cause. Bringing in Jim Tracy, a likable enough fellow but a retread who had crapped out of two jobs in three years, was seen as an interim solution to an unsolvable problem. Yeah, good luck with that, Tracy, we thought. Those crazy fluke Septembers only happen once a decade. The Rockies, of course, then took off, and were the best team in the National League the rest of the way, Tracy won Manager of the Year and all of a sudden the Rockies are healed and well and positioned for the future again. Now, a certain part of this is a misconception in the first place: Colorado wasn't as bad as they were before Tracy was hired, and they weren't as good as he was afterward. But look at that: 18-28 before, 74-42 afterward. That's not managing; that's alchemy.

How did he do it? You get the usual answers. He "changed the culture of the clubhouse" — under Jim Tracy, everybody sambas! — he squeezed out the most of the Rockies' natural talent, he provided a "steady, experienced hand." Baseball Prospectus 2010 says the answer lay in his lineup construction, which ... man, I thought that didn't matter? So confusing. (Theoretical land is difficult to navigate.) Now that Tracy has re-established his reputation, he's back doing what managers do best: Overmanaging. (Circling The Bases points out he rejiggered his spring training rotation so the Giants wouldn't see Ubaldo Jimenez pitch too often. In spring training.) He is now re-instituted as Manager Of High Regard. Until the Rockies finish one or two games below what people expected them to. Then he's just another schmuck like the rest of us. I doubt he has much to do with it either way.

If it goes wrong — and the Rockies are certainly talented this year, but we see how quickly our perception on that can alter — then he can become what all managers who aren't Tony LaRussa, John McGraw or Bobby Cox ultimately become: Fired managers. Tommy Lasorda once said, "Managing is like holding a dove in your hand. Squeeze too hard and you kill it; not hard enough and it flies away," but that sounds like Tommy Lasorda trying to sound important. I prefer Earl Weaver: "A manager's job is simple. For one hundred sixty-two games you try not to screw up all that smart stuff your organization did last December." A manager is a figurehead we love when we win and we hate when we lose. He is a totem. We project all that we lack and want onto him. Last year, Jim Tracy was a genius. This year, he might not be. Either way, we'll hold him responsible. At the end of the day, that does seem to be the job. He's just another guy without much control over anything. Like the rest of us.

I was out drinking with Daulerio and Craggs last weekend, and the topic of Matthew Berry came up. (I think we were talking about Tucker Max or something, lord knows why.) I like Matthew Berry, I suppose, but I think his yuckity-yuck style just isn't pitched to my sensibilities. That is to say: I am a nerd. I'm more of an Eric Karabell guy. I prefer dorky facts presented mostly straight, dorkily. I'm not much of a party guy, I'm not all that much fun at all, really.

I'd drunk enough that night that I started thinking maybe you can divide all male sports fans into either the Berry camp or the Karabell camp. Craggs is a Karabell guy too. Daulerio, as you'd probably guess, isn't. Bill Simmons is a Berry guy. Rob Neyer is a Karabell guy. Stuart Scott is a Berry guy. John Clayton is a Karabell guy. You can make an argument that there's a third type of sports fan, the self-serious keeper of the moral center of sports, your Bob Costas, your Joe Buck, but I don't think those people exist outside of the world of sports media. I've never met anyone who truly believes in the soul of sports that doesn't actually work inside it. I'm talking about normal people. You're all Berrys, or you're all Karabells. (If you want to play the full Deadspin staffer game, Drew's a Berry, Dash is a Karabell, and so are Sussman and Kogod. If you dig into the past, Clay Travis was a Berry, and Rick Chandler was a Karabell.)

Those two paragraphs, probably more than a third of this "team preview," exist so that I can introduce my theory that the Rockies are the Eric Karabell of this postseason. (If you're wondering — and I'm sure you are! — the Angels and the Twins/Tigers are also Karabells, and everyone else: Berry.) They are a quiet, unassuming, just-the-facts team that does nothing spectacularly but does everything right. The rotation does not blow you away, the lineup does not blow you away, the bullpen does not blow you away. They are above average everywhere. We do not tend to value that. The typical let's match up these two teams head-to-head! previews that people put together will inevitably show the Rockies lacking. Someone will have better hitting. Someone will have better pitching. But few will have the steady combination of both. Those are the teams that often win, the ones that don't fluctuate wildly.

Of course, the teams that often win in the postseason are the ones that just get lucky and hot out of nowhere, which is why predicting outcomes don't make any sense, why it makes more sense to stay low-key and avoid bold proclamations. (More Karabell!) The Rockies are no longer a faith-based business, and all told, they probably never were (who knew USA Today had so much influence?) but they're still likable enough, in their affable, oh-here-we-are-out-here-in-the-Mountain-time-zone-don't-mind-us way. (You have to love that almost the entire team is homegrown.) The Rockies have been blessed by the magic humidor, the ball-sucking device that took away the team's identity but allowed them to play, and win, by the same rules the rest of us have to play with. If the Rockies make the World Series this season, they will be only the second National League team to reach the Series twice this decade (other than the Cardinals; the Phillies are going for this as well). No one would have expected this as recently as early September 2007. They're not in a pinball machine anymore. They play earthly ball now. Thank heavens.

My father was complaining to me the other day about the increasing probability that Matt Holliday is not going to be playing for the Cardinals next season. He was dismayed by the likelihood that he'll be at Fenway next year, or in the Bronx, or even in Anaheim. "He should love it here," he said. "It shouldn't be all about the money." As a well-behaved Midwestern boy from a military family, I am loathe to disagree with my father, but hey, Cardinals fans lamenting losing Holliday: Talk to the Rockies. If we lived in the perfect world of baseball finance that's never really existed, Holliday would be leading the Rockies' charge, not along for the ride in St. Louis. But then again, that'd be a little too flashy, methinks, a little too boldfaced name. That'd make the Rockies a Berry rather than a Karabell. I like the Rockies as a Karabell. I like Todd Helton and Huston Street and all those guys you never stay up to watch. I like these guys.

Oh, and by the way: May I be the latest to remind you that thanks to the plate that was never touched and the tag that was never made, the 2007 regular season never actually ended. Which is a relief. My fantasy team was terrible that year.

Two weekends ago, the Rockies swept the Giants to take command of the Wild Card and eventually closed within two games of the division lead. This weekend, they got swept by the Giants (for five losses in a row) are now in a tie for the Wild Card and the Dodgers NL West lead seems comfortably safe. So we probably won't be seeing the biggest comeback in pennant chase history and the Rockies need to seriously step it back up if they hope to even make the playoffs. All because people like me had to go and jump the gun.

So did I jinx them? I'm going to go ahead and say that yes, it's my fault, because I need to believe in the importance of my own words. If there are any other teams you would like to see fall from a precipitous height, just give me a reason to write about how awesome they are.

Giants sweep Rockies, tie for wild-card lead [The Denver Post]
Giants 9, Rockies 5: Bullpen hands San Francisco share of wild card lead [Purple Row]
Wild Giants are all over the map [San Jose Mercury News]
Rockies familiar with late-season push [MLB, Friday]
Sports Illustrated gives Giants run support [San Francisco Examiner]

•A Stanford booster built coach Jim Harbaugh a private bathroom that cost between $50,000 and $70,000. Despite the university being in the midst of budget cuts, it's a wise investment: it'll keep Harbaugh from shitting the bed, like he did so many times in his playing career.

•This week's Sports Illustrated promises fans it will be "100% Favre-Free." Translation: he signed with the Vikes right before deadline, and we didn't feel like rewriting our NFL previews.

•Your toothless lede: "Animal rights groups and the Philadelphia Eagles are looking at ways they can join forces to combat dogfighting." A humble suggestion: don't pay convicted ringleaders of dogfighting rings millions of dollars.

•The Dodgers came to Colorado, and got beaten by the best team in the NL West. Two-game deficit be damned, the rolling Rockies have two-straight walk-off wins, all the momentum, and for some reason, Jason Giambi.

•What we've all been waiting for: the WWE is planning to launch their own TV network. Now the long-past-their-prime wrestlers like Shawn Michaels, the Undertaker and Tommy Dreamer will live on forever in classic matches, instead of dragging on forever on the damn PPVs.

•Seahawks sign old and crappy Edgerrin James. This will not remove the stink of past running back options young and crappy Maurice Morris, or old and crappy Shaun Alexander.

•And let's all laugh at Serena Williams as she tries and fails to win the carnival "hammer game:"

On June 3, the Rockies were 15.5 games back of the juggernaut L.A. Dodgers. Now they're three back, with those very Dodgers arriving at Coors Field tonight. They've taken control of the NL Wild Card race, but could very well win the whole shebang, especially after last night's storybook win over the Giants.

Down three runs in the bottom of the 14th inning, with no one left on the bench, a runner with a limp on base, and forced to send a pitcher to the plate with the bases loaded, the Rockies eventually pulled out the victory on a grand slam by Ryan Freakin' Spilborghs. It's the kind of game that makes you feel like somehow, someway your team will always find a way to get it done. (Unless they're playing Boston in the World Series.)

Would winning the NL West be more impressive than their 21-for-22 run that ended the 2007 season? It would be the biggest comeback in baseball history, even after losing their manager in May and with barely a single superstar among them. Seriously, Jason Marquis is leading the team in wins? There's a long way to go, however—maybe even long enough for Denverites to figure out that their baseball team is good again.

Rockies bask in heat of playoff push [Denver Post]
Spilborghs redeemed by walk-off slam [MLB]
Giants serve up walks, Rockies walk off with win [SF Chronicle]

The history of the Colorado Rockies is not that long, but they do have several cherished heroes whose names conjure happy memories of past glory. Mark Holliday. There was that Canadian guy. Dante.... I want to say Jenkins?

But the best hitter in Rockie history is, of course, the one and only Tim Hleton. Or is it Tom? Eh, it doesn't really matter. When you're sitting at that altitude, everything is a little fuzzy.

[Photo via Reader Brad]

* * * * *

Whadda ya know? It's Saturday. Time to break out all nonsense I'm too proud to post during the work week. If you got anything on your mind just let me know.

Torrealba spoke to the media this weekend and gave more details about the recent scare back in his home country. He had to sneak back to Venezuela and sit quietly by while his wife handled the negotiations. The kidnappers wanted $500,000 for the return of his son and two of the boy's uncles, but as police stalled and pretended Yorvit could not get away from the Rockies, they lowered their demands and eventually released everyone without getting any money. Perhaps they realized they were dealing with a resolute and determined adversary....

... Or the backup catcher for a sub-.500 team:

Torrealba said his son was treated well by the abductors, who joked with him and even made him mad when they criticized Torrealba's play with the Rockies.

"He was actually arguing with one of the guys because the guy said his dad ... he's hitting .220," Torrealba said. "Obviously now it's fine. I told my son, it probably was the truth. I was hitting .220."

Police have not arrested anyone and suspect the kidnapping may have been an "inside job," but maybe next time they'll pick a target with a higher OPS.

Torrealba discusses son's capture and return [Denver Post]
Torrealba reunited with son after kidnapping [AP]
Rockies Catcher Yorvit Torrealba Speaks About Kidnapping Ordeal In Venezuela [CBS4]

Now that the Rockies have the worst record in baseball — oh, and how did THAT happen, by the way? — Woody writes that the Rockies should trade Matt Holliday and start over. That's reasonable enough; he's not the first person to write that. But, uh ... maybe he should look into some of those trade scenarios.

Or, consider: The Rockies acquire Cleveland pitcher C.C. Sabathia, who got off to a terrible start before settling. It would be 2007 Cy Young winner for MVP runner-up. Sabathia will be a free agent at the conclusion of the season. But it would make sense for dollars to the proven 27-year-old left-hander — probably close to $100 million over five years.



The Giants? Holliday would be The New Left Fielder, and perhaps the Rockies could pry Tim Lincecum, and others, away from them.

As Vegas Watch points out, that first scenario would involve trading your biggest chip for a player who is a free agent at the end of the season. And the second scenario would require the Giants to trade their best, cheapest, youngest pitcher — who's under team control for the last five years — for a guy with a contract that expires soon.

We know it's probably rote by now to point out just how lazy and ill-researched so many "mainstream" newspaper columns are. But sometimes, you know, it just makes your jaw drop, no matter how many times you've seen it.

Woody Strikes Again [Vegas Watch]

This writer was not fortunate enough to have been at Marathon as Pheidippides ran his final 26, nor with the GIs at Bataan, nor in New Orleans for the infamous 77-round fight between Burke and Bowen (I was supposed to be, but got drunk on the Crescent City Limited and woke up in Nacogdoches, Texas wearing only my underwear — but that's a tale for a different time, dear reader). However, yours truly can safely claim to be an expert on endlessness, for I have witnessed 22 innings of base ball at its most benumbing. 22 innings of ineptitude, farce and lack of imagination one hoped could no longer be summoned by today's "professionals."

And it was all so you, the prized reader, could concentrate your limited energy and resources on matters of more import; goldfish swallowing, perhaps, or flagpole sitting. I suffered so you wouldn't have to.

The pertinent details are thus — the Mountain Men from Denver, last season's Senior Circuit Surprise Squad, triumphed over the Holy Nine from San Diego, 2-1. The winning tally advanced the required 360 feet in the tourist half of the 22nd frame, and the determinative pitched ball came six hours and sixteen minutes after festivities were commenced at Roscoe and Mittens Memorial Park. But any interest had been vacuumed from the affair eons before, in an affront to this beautiful Mission City and its proud German heritage. It was the type of contest that confirms the worst approbations from those who call for the banning of the sport on grounds that impressionable youth are being sidetracked from their classical educations by a game that dulls the senses and narcotizes the synapses.

To those cynics I say, Fie! Remember with me the Homeric duel contested only last autumn, in the shadow of the Continental Divide. The eliminator game decided by the width of a mountain goat's whisker that propelled the Coloradans to the Fall Classic. The mere fact that these exact same squadrons of base ballers could engage in two such disparate examples of Our Game is testament to the utter perfection and uniqueness of it. Would you prefer the paper doll sameness of baskets, or the grunting metronomy that is gridiron? Methinks not.

This contest's victorious rally came, fittingly, as the result of maladroitness. Batsman Willy The Weakling Tavares should have been retired on his tenth appearance of the evening, but a toss by Kahlil "BMOC" Greene was too tall for even Pterodactyl Tony Clark to reel in. Tavares is a Django of the Banjoes, and like most of his ilk he can run like a lynx. He pilfered second, and went to third on another throw that appeared the result of a miscalculated sextant, this one by Ignorance Tool-wearer Josh Bard. The anchor leg in Willy's 4 x 90 foot relay came at a trot, after a scorched shot to left by Troy "Cooperstown" Tulowitzski. The Left Coast Fathers were unable to match this outburst of scoring, having managed only a single tally over 21 prior innings, and when Robert "Kip" Wells blew an adjudged backwards K past fellow slabber Glendon "Lungs" Rusch, the few hardy souls left nibbling kibble in the grandstand were rendered disappointed as well as exhausted.

It was a struggle out of Shaw, whose "Arms and the Man" was penned after a similar battle in Piccadilly Circus some time ago. The Moccasin of the Mound, Mr. Peavy, was untouched for an octet of innings, and his replacements kept a clean sheet for five more. That Baker's Dozen proved a lucky number across the field, as Centennial State tossers spackled opposing batsmen for an equivalent number of run-free slates. In the fourteenth (early days in this Joycian game), the Rocks finally got rolling, scoring an actual run, courtesy of a free pass with no room at the Inn to Hawppy Brad Hawpe. Naturally, with a chance to rivet the game shut, the boys from Pikes Peak surrendered meekly — a foul pop from the ash of Clint "Venison" Barmes traveled thirty feet backwards, and was caught to give the side the gold watch.

The Celibate Crew, their Blessed Backs against the wall, fought back to prolong the agony. They too filled the sacks with clergy, and Stratford-Upon-Josh Bard lined a safety to balance the abacus at one. But alas, the game could not be concluded at an hour fit for Gentlemen. Tall Tony Clark was forced out at the pentagon, and Colt Morton harmlessly rolled one to third, meaning the fight would continue, like the Battle of the Marne, on and on and on.

The game's two squatters, The Bard and Yorman Victor Torrealba, deserve an exclamatory note, having caught all score plus two innings, a Shackletonian feat of endurance not seen since Double Duty Radcliffe pitched the first game of a doubleheader and caught the second every day for two weeks straight. Their knees and hip flexor muscles should be the centerpieces of a traveling Medicine Show in the off-season, hawking the benefits of the snake liniment oil the two used to make it through this memorable tug-of-war.

"Look at me! I'm getting naked! I'm running! I'm...(oooof)!"

Granted, the 30 seconds of blissful public nudity usually end with a security guard shoulder-tackling you to the ground, an arrest, and a healthy fine, but it seems worth it. Take this brave young woman, who engaged in a shirt's-off sprint toward centerfield during the Phillies/Rockies game last night to an adoring Coors Field crowd.

The bra stayed on, unfortunately, but still — look at that smile. Some people search their whole lives chasing that feeling.

Female Streaker! [Bugs And Cranks]

It was the ninth game in major league history to go 22 or more innings; the last one being Minnesota's 5-4 win over Cleveland in 22 innings on Aug. 31, 1993. Thursday's game had been a scoreless tie for 14 innings, with starters Jeff Francis and Jake Peavy going seven and eight innings, respectively. Here's the box score. Taveras had 10 at-bats for the Rockies, and scored both of their runs. A few minutes after it was over, a disgruntled fan checked in on the Union-Tribune's comments page: "This game should have been over by nine innings. What the heck is Glenn Hoffman thinking waving in MacAnulty for a triple with no outs...Like a true Padre fan, I watched the whole game. Can I get 3.5 hours of my life back.." — By 619cali on 04/18/2008 at 2:00 a.m.

• Stupid Angelos? There were actually four extra-inning games on Thursday totaling 56 innings ... 10 of them styled by the Orioles and White Sox. Adam Jones singled in the winning run for Baltimore, which is a half-game behind first-place Boston in the East. The impressive part was that the Orioles scored two in the ninth off of Bobby Jenks — who was 7-for-7 in save opportunities — to tie it.

• Coste Plus. Brett Myers went seven innings for the win and Chris Coste had four hits as the Phillies beat the Astros 10-2. Meanwhile, Jimmy Rollins had an MRI on his ankle and could be ready to go by this weekend. Grow hoof grow!

• Tigers Revert To Form. Ryan Garko and Travis Hafner hit two-run homers and Jason Michaels drove in three runs to help the Indians snap the Tigers; three-game win streak, 11-1. Detroit is 5-11.

• That 90's Show. John Smoltz pitched five shutout innings and struck out 10, and Chipper Jones went 4-for-4 with two homers and three RBI to lead the Braves over your first-place Marlins 8-0.

It just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Shame they can't trademark Dane Cook as well.

When the Rockies originally filed their trademark request, bar owners in LoDo, near Coors Field, expressed concern that the trademark would prohibit them from marketing "Rocktober" events and specials during baseball's postseason run.

The Rockies request also seeks to prohibit other parties from using "Rocktober" on a long list of commercial items including foam fingers, baseballs, batting gloves and athletic supporters, commonly known as jock straps.

Oh, so that's what an athletic supporter is!

So, you know, hurry up and sell all your Rocktober merchandise while you can ... before it's too late!

Rockies Close To "Rocktober" Trademark [9news]

Anyway, off to the NL West.

1. Arizona Diamondbacks. We don't think the Pythagorean people are going to have a problem with them this year.
2. Los Angeles Dodgers. This should be the one year in his contract in which Torre stays awake.
3. Colorado Rockies. We know it seems strange to say a team that just went to the World Series is one year away, but ... we think they're a year away.
4. San Diego Padres. We will always love the guy, but ... Jim Edmonds is the impact offseason bat? Really?
5. San Francisco Giants: Easiest pick in all of baseball. Oh, and don't ask about Bonds.

That's ours; jumbled division. Yours?

Tomorrow: The National League East.

Every weekday until the start of the season, a different writer will preview his/her team. We asked a gaggle of writers, from the Web, from print, from books, to tell us, in as many or as little words as they need, Where Their Team Stands. This is not meant to be factual, or dispassionate, or even logical: We just asked them to riff on why they love their team so much, or what their team means to them, or whatever.

Today: The Colorado Rockies. Your author is Mark T.R. Donohue.

Mark T.R. Donohue is a freelance writer, serial blogger, and member in good standing of the Baseball Toaster cartel. He lives in Boulder, Col. His words are after the jump.

—————————-

How do you top 2007, if you're the Colorado Rockies? It can't be done! At the end of the season last year, Colorado ran off an utterly ludicrous fourteen wins in fifteen games, including a thirteen-inning 9-8 win over the Padres in a one-game wild card tiebreaker, to make the playoffs for the first time since the strike-shortened 1995 season and only the second time ever. The otherworldly hot streak continued through the National League playoffs, in which Colorado dropped nary a game to Philadelphia nor Arizona, and stopped only when the Rockies met reality — and a much, much better team — on a grand stage in the franchise's first World Series appearance. That didn't go as well.

The good news for 2008 is that the Rockies weren't a .500 team that got lucky last year. Up until mid-September they had gotten some bad breaks; we few true believers chose to view their white-hot finish as an overdue correction. Even supposing that the
Rockies' opponents down the stretch were laying over for them and the stats don't mean what they think we do, the Rockies' pitching rotation turned over 60% of its players in quick succession shortly after the All-Star break. Ubaldo Jimenez and Franklin Morales, the two call-ups that made up the bulk of those innings lost due to injuries to Rodrigo Lopez, Jason Hirsh and Aaron Cook, still have less than a year of major-league experience between them. They should be better this year.

Everyone but second baseman Kazuo Matsui returns to a lineup that's long on pre-peak players; second-year shortstop Troy Tulowitzki is poised to bring his hitting numbers up to the level of his already unparalleled defense. The one nasty storm cloud on the Rockies' horizon, the impending free agency of outfielder and offensive linchpin Matt Holliday, has been at the very least pushed further away by the two-year deal Holliday signed this winter.
Besides Holliday, there are hardly any key Rockies players that won't be around for at least three more seasons, including Tulowitzki, ace Jeff Francis, closer Manny Corpas and outfielder Brad Hawpe. One of the few positions that GM Dan O'Dowd hasn't found a solution for in the draft is catcher; the Rockies caught a break when the Mets backed away from a deal they'd worked out with incumbent Colorado catcher Yorvit Torrealba. O'Dowd managed to get Torrealba back at the right price; that was the highlight of a very quiet offseason that also brought in some bullpen help (Luis Vizcaino, Jose Capellan), a few guys to compete for the second base job (Matt Kata and Marcus Giles, though rookie Jayson Nix will get some looks too), and a bunch of veteran starters to provide insurance for the boatload of injuries the oxygen-deprived Rockies rotation seems to suffer every year (including but not limited to Josh Towers, Kip Wells and Victor Zambrano).

Colorado is probably going to be a stronger team than they were last season, and yet they will likely win fewer games. Los Angeles and Arizona have improved, and the Rockies more than likely won't have the same luck they had in interleague play '07 (10-8, the only team in the NL with double-digit wins and the only one more than a game over .500). The hope here is that even if a whole season hanging around in contention ends in disappointment, the Rockies and the city of Denver get the one thing they didn't get last year — being taken seriously. The magical September '07 run did a lot to shake Denver out of the indifferent attitude it's had towards baseball and the Rockies since the late 90's, but it takes more than one postseason to build a baseball fan. Baseball is about the long haul and until fans in the mountains are checking box scores with the same vigilance in May as they were last September, the Colorado Rockies remain just another ill-justified expansion team with ugly uniform colors.

In a move that would make Biff Tannen turn red, a horse dropped a load all over Spilborghs' truck.

As organizers prepared for the National Western Stock Show parade through downtown Denver, the Coors Field parking lot served as a staging area for livestock. A few steers didn't, um, steer sharply enough and one broke the taillight on Spilborghs' vehicle.

"My spot was taken, so I parked in space 19, for my number. When I came out, the light was broken," Spilborghs said. "I checked for a note, but those longhorns left something else behind."

Cow, horse, whatever, all farm animals hate the Colorado Rockies. It's simple science.

The Cows Are Out To Get Ryan Spilborghs [Lion In Oil]