FanPost

A tip-a-the-cap to Colorado

Dear Colorado Rockies and affiliates,

Please don't hate Giants fans for exulting in the wake of your defeat. We've had so little reason to watch baseball the past few seasons (aside from freak shows and trite stories) that any meaningful win satisfies like a banquet hosted by Buster Posey himself. The national league west has a reputation for being a variety show and the Giants, up until recently, have had the reputation of being the old-folk losers, so it's only natural that vitriolic sludge gets hurled your way as we shake the slime of snail-paced failure.

You, my friends of the purple pinstripes, are a young franchise. You don't know what it's like to watch a team fail year after year throughout your meager life. Then, once it looks like things are turning around, fail some more, only spectacularly. We worshipped a man for over a decade who, had he played for a competently managed franchise like, say, the fucking yankees, we would be celebrating the longest string of world titles in the history of the damn game. Our number of titles? 0. Zero. For pity's sake, we participated in a world series so onesided our very CITY nearly shook itself down to the ground to try and put it to a stop! We post pictures of the exultant victors of our most recent global failure on this website, just to torture ourselves! We're a lousy horde of masochists who have learned to celebrate our conquests by soaking up the pain of the conquered.

So, try and have some sympathy for our overzealous reactions to victory. It's our turn, goddamnit. You had your magic season three years ago. Let us have ours with the same grace and the same looming spectre of heartbreak.

You see, the NL West really is far more than a variety show. Roll with me on this: It's an old haunted house that seems about to fall down around its foundation. In the cellar, waiting just below the rotting floorboards that collapse FAR too easily, waits a bunch of pain-in-the-ass poisonous snakes that won't kill you, but will make you feel like absolute hell for probably a good season or two. Everyone knows about their glory days when they took down the biggest men on earth with a well timed strike to the neck, but those days are long gone. Now they only wait around for the next careless team to put a hole through the broken plank. Sorry, Blake St. Bombers. That was you this year.

Next, there is this one annoying ass freeloader who walks around in his bathrobe all day and wants everyone to call him Father. He doesn't do shit and never pays for anything, but occasionally gets insanely lucky and wins big on a high stakes poker game where there's no way he could possibly pay off if he lost. Then he holds it over your head for a decade while he lounges on your couch, eats your doritos, and talks to the snakes down in the cellar. You just hope that they him in the ass one day.

Then there's this one guy. He's just an...uncanny...evil...he's too smart, too slick...always acts like he's better than you even when he totally fucking isn't, but finds a way to rub your every single flaw back in your face even when you knock his teeth in... Anyway, he claims to be influenced by Dickens, and he's a fucking BASTARD. We won't talk about him anymore than he deserves.

And then it's just you and us. The great white mountain (or a really cool painting of one in the master bedroom or something, just go with it) presiding over all and, right now at least, the wise old man perched upon the peak. That's you and us, brothas and sistas. We're too damn big for this old house, but for whatever reason we are either too proud or too dumb to leave this place, or maybe that's just not how the game is played (looking at you, CU Buffalos and other Big 12 deserters...).

You and us, we are the class of this division. While we were floundering in the pits of despair after the departure of our god, you showcased, in spades, homegrown talent and savvy business that we had forgotten even existed. We watched in pure, yick-green envy as you smashed the National League in 7 quick games. Respect. Mad respect. And you ain't gone nowhere. Not all of your cogs and wheels got turning together when they needed to, and that's why you stumbled and fell and got bit by the cellar snake before we bopped you on the head for being silly. But you ain't gone nowhere.

That is why I say "Cheers!" as I raise my glass and tip my Orangeandblack Cap to you, true gentlemen and respectful rivals. I look forward to the time, in the near future, where we meet in a best of seven series for the National League Pennant. Now excuse me. I am going to return to exulting in how much we totally beat you and face the very real, yet very frightening, prospect of meaningful October baseball games. Because, yes, we do indeed bleed orange. We bleed orange.

Respectfully exultant,

Some Mccoven

NOTE: I post this here because giants fans should absolutely be respectful of the Rockies' very talented baseball team and reflect on how awesome it is that a team like this exists in our division so we can keep each other sharp and competitive. Mostly though, it is to give us, on the eve of the final series of the year, and the first round of October baseball, another chance to reflect on how BEAUTIFUL it is that we buried the Colorado Rockies instead of vice-a-versa.

This FanPost is reader-generated, and it does not necessarily reflect the views of McCovey Chronicles. If the author uses filler to achieve the minimum word requirement, a moderator may edit the FanPost for his or her own amusement.

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