Thank you, Trevor Story.
Thank you for putting Denver back on the baseball map. I don’t know if the rookie’s home-run magic has reached its expiration date or our city’s 15 minutes of fame and fun are done. But it has been an absolute blast.
“We’re not used to getting national attention around here,” Rockies manager Walt Weiss told me Tuesday. “And the attention that Trevor Story is getting not only has gone national, it probably crosses solar systems.”
In a galaxy far, far away, as starship pilots chug stiff drinks in the Mos Eisley Cantina and the conversation in the dimly lit bar turns to baseball, you can bet the first words that have been spoken are: Trevor Story.
OK, I’m not sure whether you believe there’s intelligent life in other solar systems. “But if it’s out there, they’re talking about Trevor Story,” Weiss joked.
Story came out of nowhere, as big and bright as Halley’s Comet. We craned our necks and smiled at the wonder of his seven home runs. In that regard, Rockies outfielder Carlos Gonzalez was no different than you or me. CarGo watched the show put on by Story with the giddy delight of a kid stretched out on a blanket during Fourth of July fireworks.
“I love playing with great players. They motivate me. They push me. When I see a guy like Trevor Story raking after just getting called up to the major leagues, he brings me energy and takes me back to the feeling of excitement I had when I was a rookie,” Gonzalez said.
“I told (Story) before his first at-bat in spring training: ‘I want to have that feeling inside me that you have right now.’ When you’re a veteran, you can take this all for granted, like, ‘OK, here we go, it’s just another season, another at-bat, another game.’ But, with him, it’s all new. It’s exciting. And it’s contagious.”
Now for the tricky part: Story captured the baseball universe’s imagination. But how do the Rockies possibly hang in the tough National League West, much less keep the fickle attention of the Twitterverse, which can be gone in 60 seconds?
San Francisco came to town for a three-game series, and staged an unfriendly takeover, winning 7-2 and temporarily turning LoDo into the 415 area code, with fans dressed in pumpkin orange constantly chanting, “Let’s go Giants.”
To prove he actually isn’t Roy Hobbs wearing Rockies uniform No. 27, Story went hitless in four at-bats. It was the first game in his major-league career that he failed to get a hit or drive in a run.
If Story isn’t mashing, then will broadcaster Rich Eisen be on Line 1, requesting an interview? And how long will it be before another scribe from Sports Illustrated is back in Coors Field to take note? Is this dusty old baseball cow town’s 15 minutes of fame and fun done?
Yes, even after taking the collar against San Francisco, Story owns one more National League player of the week award than he did eight short days before stepped in the batter’s box against Giants starting pitcher Jeff Samardzija.
It’s still fun to do the crazy and fanciful projection math. Story, who hit more homers during the opening week of the season than Willie Mays or Mike Schmidt ever did, is on pace for 162 dingers. “I just try to hit the ball hard. If it gets up in the air and goes out, that’s awesome,” Story said. “I hope (fans) don’t think I’m going to hit one every time, because that’s not very realistic.”
For a 23-year-old rookie shortstop, Story is wise beyond his years. He understands the cruel truth of a major-league ballpark, which dares a man to fail in public like few places this side of the dastardly 12th hole at Augusta National. Samardzija made Story look silly, striking him out three times. The rookie sensation has now also whiffed 11 times. In that projection game, if he played 150 games, Story could also strike out 235 times, which would also set a single-season record.
That’s not a prediction. We wish nothing but the best for Story. But his history in the minor leagues suggests that failure to make contact can be a big challenge for him. On-the-job training in the big leagues is not for the weak. The Trevor-ending Story will sometimes thrill the crowd and sometimes test the patience of his manager.
The magic won’t last. The memories will.
Thank you, Trevor Story.
For the first time since Rocktober 2007, you made Denver the center of the baseball universe. The happy sound of the bat’s crack that launched each of your seven home runs reminded us what a blast that baseball can be around here.
It reminded us of what baseball should be in Colorado.
Mark Kiszla: , mkiszla@denverpost.com or @markkiszla
