There’s a word for those people who believed Todd Helton was too old at age 32, his bat had turned prematurely gray and the Rockies were dumb not to trade his big salary a long time ago.
Knuckleheads.
Helton is again belting major- league pitching into submission.
He is bashing the knuckleheads.
On a Saturday night when Coors Field saw rain and lightning, Helton’s bat shook down the thunder. The Rockies beat Texas 11-6.
Hey, knuckleheads, don’t bother buying a vowel or searching for clues. Want to know the secret of how this season can become truly special for the Rockies? I will spell it out for you.
For all the little miracles in the Colorado clubhouse, from Jamey Carroll’s imitation of the little train that could to the stellar relief provided by Brian Fuentes, the Rockies have exactly one shot to win the National League West.
Helton must be hotter than the Fourth of July all the way until October.
Slugger Matt Holliday deserves an all-expense-paid trip to the All-Star Game and starting pitcher Aaron Cook is capable of throwing such filthy stuff a catcher should wash his hands between every inning.
In the past 25 games, Helton is hitting .359.
This could be the start of something big.
“I got into a little funk,” Helton said. “But I feel better.”
The Rockies do not pay Helton a salary of $16.6 million to hit singles.
They pay him to launch the towering home run that Helton did to right field in the second inning. The distance traveled was 373 feet, nothing special by measure of the tape.
But it was a space shot that left a hole in the ozone. If a satellite had been passing over LoDo as the homer ascended, folks from Taos to Cheyenne would still be wondering why their television reception faded to black.
For too much of the past year, maybe Helton was guilty of taking too much on his shoulders, trying to boost a young team.
“I don’t think I did that consciously. But, subconsciously, I probably did, probably more than I should have,” Helton said.
“It doesn’t work when you try to do too much. You don’t hit home runs when you try to hit home runs. With the guys I’ve got in the lineup behind me now, I can go up to the plate and try to work a walk.”
Helton started the season on a tear. He put up sick numbers early, only to get sick. Really sick.
His illness, which sent him to a hospital and then to the disabled list, was diagnosed as acute terminal ileitis.
Don’t know about you, but, when I’m in the hospital, with my unmentionables hanging out of one of those silly gowns, the last word I want my doc to bring up in conversation is terminal.
“Nobody’s a big fan of the word terminal,” Helton said.
Between cuts of batting practice Saturday, Helton spent time with former Rockies catcher Ben Petrick, whose own battle with Parkinson’s Disease is a jarring reminder of how fragile something as strong as major-league ability can be.
Beneath a game face as grim as a tax audit, Helton is allowing himself the joy of a man who had a painful reminder of how lucky a guy is to put on a baseball uniform.
“I do enjoy myself a little bit more playing baseball, although I might not show it on the field,” Helton said. “I’m having a great time.”
Helton never will be mistaken for free and easy, but a little lightening of the soul can put a spring in a ballplayer’s spikes.
The Los Angeles Dodgers, with a dangerous lineup and stout starting pitching, look to be the favorite to win a division in which the flaws of all teams have become glaringly obvious in the summer sun.
But this is the latest the Rockies have hung within striking distance of first place since 2000.
If Helton went nuts – something along the lines of 20 homers and 70 RBIs in the second half of the season – it would not be crazy to believe Colorado could be playing meaningful games in September. Or beyond.
A year ago, it was fashionable to suggest the Rockies trade Helton.
Those knuckleheads cannot be heard now, when the loudest sound you hear is the thunder in Helton’s bat.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
