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After four long years driving the clown car, Walt Weiss pulled to the curb, hopped out and walked away. He told the Rockies to take this job and shove it, the same as Jim Tracy did when he quit as Rockies manager in 2012.

Is franchise owner Dick Monfort so tone deaf he thinks the rest of Major League Baseball does not hear the dysfunction in Colorado鈥檚 organization?

This is where I am supposed to make a list of managerial candidates that can push the long-suffering Rockies to a playoff berth in 2017.

The obvious choice that leaps to my mind is Bud Black, a former pitcher who was well liked inside the clubhouse and throughout the National League during his nine seasons as manager in San Diego. It should be mentioned, however, that Black never once guided the Padres to the postseason.

Unless he鈥檚 desperate for money, does Black really need the aggravation of managing the Rockies, an organization that made life miserable for both Weiss and Tracy, two men who not only know baseball but also are as fine of gentlemen as you will find in the game?

Weiss and Tracy got sick and tired of what is a systemic problem in the Colorado organization far bigger than how a pitcher鈥檚 earned run average gets inflated in the thin air of Denver.

The Rockies stopped listening to Tracy or Weiss. Weiss and Tracy both felt disrespected and left out of the loop, whether the issue was a half-baked idea for a tandem pitching rotation that limited starters to 75 throws or personnel moves that made a manager wonder if he needed to get front-office approval before posting the lineup card.

On a sunny September afternoon a little more than two weeks ago, Weiss and I sat in the Colorado dugout. From the day he was hired by the Rockies it irked Weiss, who played in the World Series three times, when he was dissed as a prep manager the team hired only because he could drive to the interview from Regis Jesuit High School. I reminded Weiss that I had warned him before signing with the Rockies that he already had a better job at Regis Jesuit in every important way except the salary.

Weiss laughed, and replied: 鈥淵ou鈥檝e always been fair to me, Kiz.鈥�

I told Weiss he deserved a new contract with the Rockies but would not bother writing it if he wanted out.

鈥淲e鈥檙e going to have to find out if we can work out some philosophical differences,鈥� Weiss said.

As soon as he uttered those words, it felt in my gut like Weiss was gone.

My gut aches. Why? Because the Rockies do have great young talent. Nolan Arenado, Jon Gray, Trevor Story and David Dahl deserve the best manager money can buy.

But does winning really matter enough to Rockies ownership to interview Jason Giambi, Barry Larkin or someone beyond the usual suspects to be their next manager?

The No. 1 problem with the Rockies is not the manager, the altitude or the height of the freakin鈥� fences in Coors Field.

The No. 1 problem with the Rockies is you, the fans who love baseball too much.

You give your money to Dick and Charlie Monfort, the brothers without a clue. You sit in the sunshine and buy beer by the barrel. In return, the Monforts give Denver a losing baseball team, year after year, with 18 losing seasons in the franchise鈥檚 24-year existence. Any other business in town run so poorly would have gone out of business a long time ago.

But you keep showing up, buying tickets, then act surprised when so many of your neighbors at the ballpark are cheering for the Cubs, Cardinals or whatever team is visiting town. So long as there are 2.6 million butts in the seats at Coors Field, maybe it doesn鈥檛 really matter which manager sits in the Rockies’ dugout, waiting for the bullpen to implode.

If the Rockies do the easy (and cheap) thing by elevating Glenallen Hill from within the organization, then it抖阴ap business as usual, with the knowledge Colorado fans won鈥檛 demand winning baseball so long as the sunshine is free.

Guess what? That抖阴ap your problem. Whine at me all you want. The Monforts are laughing at you all the way to the bank.