To quote Soulja Boy, “History is a nightmare from which I am trying to escape”

That may not be Soulja Boy that I just quoted; it may be James Joyce. I guess it doesn’t matter, because their contributions to the English language are roughly equivalent. The point remains; the Rockies, like Soulja Boy or Joyce, are trying to escape history, specifically their own. It has been a history full of home runs, tears, embarrassment and tearful home runs full of embarrassment. Their career record before last season, including the one time they somehow lucked into the playoffs, is .465, which averages to a little over 75 wins per season. That would make the Devil (whoops blasphemy) Rays proud?

Their Captain Fantastic win percentage has, however, been subverted by some lovely moments—EY hitting the first homer in the first Rockies at bat, Dante Bichette’s mullet, umm… that’s about it, but Bichette’s mullet is like the hair equivalent of Steve Perry’s voice/face combination. For a while, Bichette’s epic doo was enough to keep fans in the seats. The Rockies set attendance records and were selling out every game for a half decade. I remember all the crazy fervor when the Rockies debuted under the Rocky Mountain sunset (cliché #37a). Fans were crazy nuts for them. I found myself in the nosebleed section of (not Invesco Field at) Mile High amidst a sellout crowd. And there was hope (cliché #3b). And then there was denial (it’s the altitude). And then there was steaming piles of Triceratops poop with Jeff Goldblum constantly quipping “now that is one big pile of shit” until Todd Helton shot him, took him to a taxidermist, mounted him above his fireplace, and drew a Rollie Fingers mustache on him with a sharpie. And hope was dead; just like God, chivalry and crystal Pepsi.

Then, once upon a time (érase una vez, for our latin friends) the Rockies won a shit-load of games in an anti-shit-load of time. It was fluky, but fun. People were getting loaded in sport bars and cheering instead of downing fifths of whiskey at home and breaking television sets. The bandwagon almost collapsed from the pressure of being overloaded. Young kids were rocking the K-Fed graffiti Rockies hats with the stickers on the bill, which New Era now sews on crooked by default. And hope had made a comeback (cliché #3c? I’ll have to check the clichétionary—yes! Another retarded portmanteau!), just like John Travolta.

And here we are (",babe"? It seems like ",babe" should follow that). The National League Champion Rockies attempt to prove their mettle (or that they're metal). Todd Helton walks up to the plate and tells the pitcher he’s going to superman that ho (see Ulysses by Joyce, James). Then, he cranks that into the Rockpile and runs around the bases yelling “I AM LEGEND!” (Note: that may not actually be true, but I had to insert the obligatory Will Smith reference). Though Todd Helton still rakes like a fox (I must be drunk), the rest of the team looks pretty average. PECOTA predicted the Rockies to win 84 games, or just above average. It seemed fair at the time, with all the questions marks involved. Now, after a super small sample size (8 games), the Rockies look like their going to end up in the 10^th percentile of their PECOTA projection, or the Ben Affleck percentile, as I like to call it.

It is, after all, a long season, and who the hell knows? But the Rockies should consider front office and managerial changes for the long term. I can’t completely hate on O’Dowd because he has drafted some good players, but he has also has made Omar Minaya look smart a few times. An example of his smartification that didn’t end up screwing him: he wanted to draft Denard Span (career minor league OPS: 698), but couldn’t afford him; so he was stuck with some Jeff Francis guy. In terms of Clint “I’m Bringing in Jorge Julio” Hurdle, the Wall Street Journal did a study of managers based on wins in close games, wins above expectation and player performance. Guess where Clint finished… Go on, guess… Oh, you can’t? Well, I’ll tell you. Dead fucking last (http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/info-baseballMgrs08.html?n=50&page=1&sd=ASC&sort=overall). He’s fun in the post game interview. He has a big funny looking head with goofy hair. But is that worth his shitsational managing (I win again! Shit+senational=brilliant, retarded or retarded brilliant—you choose). The Rockies may have a good season in spite Clinton and Daniel again, but it might be better to build a good organization. Or not.

I’m still thinking of a cool little sign off note, so for this post I’ll settle for:

“I ain’t got time to bleed” – Jesse “the Former Mayor of Minnesota” Ventura in Predator

Maybe I’ll just end with stupid quotes every time.