On the night filled with all the joy of the first World Series game played in Colorado, the biggest smile at Coors Field could be found plastered on the face of Rockies pitcher Ubaldo Jimenez.
You’ve heard of childhood dreams come true? This was better.
On the top step of the Rockies’ dugout stood an idol of every player ever born in the Dominican Republic, where the official language is baseball. There, looking regal at age 70, was Hall of Fame pitcher Juan Marichal, talking baseball. And he was bragging on Jimenez.
“Look at this young man,” said Marichal, beaming with pride at Jimenez. “There is something about him that reminds me of myself as a young player.”
Pray that it’s true.
While slugger Matt Holliday delivers the heavy blows and shortstop Troy Tulowitzki demands a winning clubhouse vibe, all the hopes of the Rockies being legitimate championship contenders for the next 10 years rest on the right arm of Jimenez.
Out of thin air, Jimenez could become the consistent 20-game winner Colorado has never seen. He has caused the Rockies to change how they think about the game, as general manager Dan O’Dowd now talks of pitching being a cornerstone of success for a team that plays at 5,280 feet above sea level.
It’s a whole lot of hype for a 24-year-old pitcher with a grand total of four major-league victories on his resume. But how good can Jimenez be?
Put it this way. Marichal won 243 games from 1960-75. He was a king in an era when pitching reigned. Looking his young countryman straight in the eye during the World Series, Marichal told Jimenez: “You have great stuff. Trust it.”
It was as if Jimenez had been blessed by a baseball god.
“It was big. I mean, that’s Juan Marichal. He’s the only Hall of Famer from my country. I had never met him before, and then I have the chance to shake his hand at the same time I’m going to the World Series,” Jimenez said recently, after making his first starting assignment of 2008 for the Rockies in spring training.
Although born in the seaside town of Nagua nearly a decade after Marichal threw his last strike in the major leagues, Jimenez has been well versed since childhood about the feats of the San Francisco Giants ace who dueled Bob Gibson during the 1960s.
“Every kid who plays baseball in the Dominican Republic wants to be like Juan Marichal. He was the guy who opened the door for every Dominican who dreams of playing professional baseball. He’s the one who makes you believe you can make it. Make it to the big leagues. Make it to the World Series. Make it to the Hall of Fame. Because of him, anything is possible. And that’s huge,” Jimenez said.
From Felipe Alou to Vladimir Guerrero, there’s more than a 50-year history of baseball being a major way in which the Dominican Republic defines itself in the world order.
On an October night, I asked Marichal if baseball was bigger than religion back home.
He responded with a grin.
Would a player from the Dominican Republic rather surrender his heart than give up the ball? Is the Caribbean country’s love for the game as big and as deep as the ocean?
“Oh, bigger,” Marichal said with a wink.
He explained that although Jimenez could take great pride in wearing a Rockies uniform, every time any Dominican player took the field anywhere in the majors, he would also feel the responsibility of representing his homeland.
So compared to carrying on the tradition of excellence established by Marichal, working out of a bases- loaded jam against the Dodgers or Diamondbacks seems like no pressure at all.
“I was very excited,” Jimenez said of his unforgettable pitching summit with Marichal in October. “But not nervous. I never get nervous.”
When the reaction of Jimenez to meeting a legend was related to Marichal, he laughed robustly, like only a baseball god can.
“I knew,” Marichal said, “there was a reason I like this kid.”
Mark Kiszla: 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com
