Alright, I admit it. I kind of, sort of, somewhat, in my own special, obnoxiously condescending kind of way, enjoy National League baseball.
There, I said it. That's probably the hardest confession I've ever had to make. Good to get it over with.
Three weeks ago, I was almost completely oblivious to the pennant races developing in the senior circuit. The American League - you know, the one that puts the "major" in Major League Baseball - already had a set-in-stone playoff slate, and to me, that was all that mattered.
It was three weeks ago today that the Phillies and Rockies geared up for the stretch run with identical 76-69 records - marks that would leave them virtually eliminated from the AL wild card race, but in the NL, left them somewhat in the hunt. The Phils were seven games out in the NL East, while Colorado was six games back in the West, clinging to a third-place tie with the Dodgers.
A lot can change in three weeks. The Phillies watched as the Mets lost 10 of their last 15 games, and the Rockies won 14 of their last 15. And somehow, with a miraculous 13th-inning comeback over the Padres Monday night, the Rockies are on their way to Philadelphia for Game 1 of the NL Divisional Series.
I tuned in to Monday's playoff game at Coors Field mainly out of boredom - there was nothing else on, and I figured I might as well hear Don Orsillo try his hand at an NL game for a change. Yet somehow, I was glued to my TV for every pitch. I don't even have the attention span to watch an entire Red Sox game, unless it's the postseason or the Yankees are in town. Watching Jake Peavy duel Josh Fogg isn't quite atop my to-do list.
But even I had to admit, the drama that unfolded that night was a Cinderella story for the ages, easily better than any sports movie. Watching the Rockies, who have never won a postseason game in franchise history, fight for an October bid in front of 48,000-plus passionate fans was a refreshing change from the baseball I'm used to.
I found myself rooting for Fogg, who despite his 4.79 ERA had a chance to lead his team to the playoffs. For Todd Helton, a five-time All-Star who finally stamped his ticket to his first postseason game. And more than anything for Matt Holliday, the unlikeliest of MVP frontrunners, who clinched the batting title with an RBI triple in the 13th and then the wild card with a mad dash for home plate on a sac fly from Jamey Carroll.
In typical National League fashion, even the most beautiful of moments was downright ugly. Holliday missed the plate, Michael Barrett missed the tag, and the game ended in a bloody faceplant that left the two teams' fates in the hands of baffled umpire Tim McClelland. McClelland's delayed "safe" call notwithstanding, I'm pretty sure that the game still isn't technically over. I'm still waiting for either Holliday or home plate to be touched. I'll probably keep waiting forever.
But I'm a changed man. I'm not going to mock the senior circuit anymore - in fact, I might even watch the NL playoffs. After all, nothing's a more compelling story than a lovable loser, and it's not often that October brings you a matchup of Colorado, a team still looking for an October win, and the Phillies, losers of 10,028 and counting. This should be great.
I mean, come on. It's Jeff Francis' first career postseason start. Jeff Francis!
I've been waiting my whole life for this.
Evans Clinchy is a junior majoring in English. He can be reached at evans.clinchy@tufts.edu
