Ken Papleo/Rocky Mountain News
It's nearing midnight in Denver, and no one has left. They're all standing in Coors Field, many waving white towels, too giddy to understand it's nearing midnight with a temperature dipping to freezing.
The Colorado Rockies, winners of 21 of their last 22 games, are going to the World Series. And that's incredible. Ridiculous, really. In fact, here's how ridiculous:
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
Ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous ridiculous
(One of the Monforts just said, "Praise God, praise everybody in His stadium, let's bring this home.")
Cormac McCarthy wrote that "each event is revealed to us only at the surrender of every alternate course." Let us review, then, how close alternate courses came to presenting themselves and rendering null and void the actuality that did unfold:
Sept. 18: Todd Helton hits a two-run walk-off home run, beating the untouchable Takashi Saito (1.40 ERA, 78/13 K/BB in 64 1/3 innings) and the LA Dodgers 9-8.
Sept. 21: Brad Hawpe hits a 14th inning home run and the Rockies hold on to beat the Padres 2-1 in San Diego. The winning streak reaches six, but no one -- no one -- knows that it's only begun.
Sept. 29: Tony Gwynn Jr. (the irony!), on a two-strike, two-out count in the bottom of the 9th, triples home the tying run off Trevor Hoffman. The Brewers beat the Padres two innings later, keeping Colorado's still-slim playoff dreams alive.
Sept. 30: Rockies give up two runs in the top of the 9th but hang on to beat the Diamondbacks, who, having already clinched the NL West, played like they wanted the Rockies to win. The Diamondbacks will rue this day.
Oct. 1: Ridiculous.
Fast-forward: tonight, 9th inning. Eric Byrnes (of all people) check-swings on the first pitch, and next thing you know, Troy Tulowitzki, who made the off-balance throw across the diamond to Todd Helton, is the first guy embracing the man holding the ball, that 10-year veteran who hadn't so much as sniffed the postseason nary a few weeks before. Floating out of the ballpark, Todd? Floating, perhaps, but neither he nor his team are going anywhere.
And then, ecstasy. Sheer, blinding ecstasy. Collective ecstasy of a magnitude few within sports -- or outside it -- are ever lucky enough to experience.
Enjoy this, Colorado. It'll never be as sweet as the first time again.
POSTSCRIPT: Kansas City demigod George Brett was at Coors Field and was seen congratulating former teammate Clint Hurdle after the game.
You can expect a "2009 Kansas City Royals can be 2007 Colorado Rockies" post in due time.
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