Hope for the Colorado Rockies Springs Eternal

"SportsCenter right now is doing a feature where they are trying to determine the greatest sports clip of all time," I say. "Growing up in Denver, there's really only one or two that come to mind. John Elway helicopter-diving for the first down against Green Bay in Super Bowl XXXII and the Rockies' one-game tie-breaker against the Padres last season, with Holliday sliding into home plate. What sports clips or memories do it for you? What play still gives you chills?"

Hawpe nods his head pensively.

"Being a baseball fan, I like Cal Ripken taking his jog after he broke Lou Gehrig's record," he says. "That was one of the most unbelievable things in the world to me, especially after playing 162 games a season and realizing all it takes to achieve something like that. It was just a real special moment."

This prompts Ringolsby to remark that growing up as a Texas Rangers fan, Hawpe probably didn't have too many of those moments. Ringolsby knows his stuff, so he plays off my question to talk ball with Hawpe. Following his lead, I chime in about the Rangers, too. I'm starting to see that these Rockies, hero-worshipped though they may be, are just normal dudes. This realization is not exactly earth-shattering, but I defy you to walk up to one of your favorite athletes of all time and not be a little star-struck.

The game ends in a Rockies loss — the main highlight is Tulo's first-pitch-he-faces bomb — and I walk a few blocks to a bus stop, where I catch a ride to my hotel and watch Hillary beat Obama. Sigh. I eat at a nearby T.G.I. Friday's, where I write this joke: I don't like eating at T.G.I. Friday's, because I like my meals to be non-denominational. And I don't believe in goodness.

One of the bartenders offers me a dessert that, if I'm not mistaken, contains both chocolate and cheddar cheese. But I decline: I have a big day tomorrow. The press is allowed back in the clubhouse from 8:45 to 9:45 a.m., and I've got me some more Rockies to holler at.

---

In the clubhouse the next morning, I watch Brian Giles — the San Diego Padres infielder who tried to throw Holliday out at the plate in that historic tie-breaker last season, and who is now in camp competing for a spot — man his iPod that's plugged into the clubhouse's stereo. Clint Hurdle comes out of his office to appraise each track. But I don't see any of my favorite Rockies, so I head up to the bleachers to catch them coming into the clubhouse from the weight room. And then I see Todd Helton.

"Todd, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" I call out to the Rockies' first baseman.

"Does this look like an interview spot to you, bud?" he responds with a stone face.

I start to stammer, but then Helton cracks the faintest hint of a smile. Is Todd Helton fucking with me? I think Todd Helton is fucking with me. And he's got a damn good poker face.

"I heard a rumor about you," I say.

"I'm not gay," he fires back.

Poker face and a sense of humor. I'm seeing a side of Helton I've never seen before.

I tell him that I've heard he's in the market for a new hunting dog, and he perks up.

"Yeah, what you got?"

I tell him how my mother recently bred her show-dog Chesapeake Bay Retriever, arguably the best breed of water dog in the world, and that we have one left. Helton says he's not really looking right now but appreciates the offer. But I know I can't leave it at that, so I ask how many dogs he has. He tells me two, but that he's more of a laid-back dog kind of guy, and Chessies are a little high-strung for him, a little snappy around strangers. Helton knows his shit. This is certainly an occasional trait in the Chessie bloodline, which developed from the breed having to protect fishermen's shacks on the Chesapeake Bay. But while I respect Helton's take on the matter, I feel I must inform him that this is not the case with all Chessies, and definitely not with this current, sensational batch. I tell Helton that I took one of the puppies, and that her demeanor is quite mild. Still, Helton tells me he's happy with his two Chocolate Labs.

"Even though I was duck-hunting and goose-hunting on the river this winter," he begins. "And it was flowing straight ice, you know, big chunks of ice, and my young dog wouldn't jump in there, it was scared to death. My older dog got in there, but that's really when you need a Chessie."