A bird brought me to the ballpark on Tuesday. But not the Orioles.
Rockies Cole Carrigg flipped off fans in Atlanta on Saturday, and manager Warren Schaeffer punished the center fielder by not starting him in consecutive games.
He entered as a late-inning substitute in both cases.
Were you rolling your eyes? Me too. So I decided to look closer and ask those involved.
The conclusion: The incident will make Carrigg better if it helps him find the correct temperature for his simmering default setting.
“I know I can’t do what I did (in Atlanta). And it is not going to happen again,” Carrigg told The Post of a reaction that stemmed from narrowly missing a game-winning catch and a group of fans letting him have it over two days. “But, I am not going to change anything in how I play.”
Needle meet thread. As the Rockies suffer through a mouth-agape 10-game home losing streak, players like Carrigg represent hope.
For years, the Rockies have not only been bad, but soft. The lack of consequences for inept players and incompetent executives made losing comfortable.
Carrigg plays full throttle, in-your-face, unapologetically. It’s refreshing.
It is also easy to see why there will soon be no neutrality from opponents as he becomes an established big leaguer. They will either dislike him or hate him.
“And we love Cole. I want to make that very clear,” Rockies manager Warren Schaeffer said from his office before batting practice. “We have needed an edge on this team, and we get that from Cole, and to a lesser extent Zac (Veen). You can’t hope for something, want something and when it gets here, you try to change it. I refuse to muzzle him. I want him to be who he is without crossing the line. And I believe we can accomplish both things.”
Carrigg would rather use a splinter from one of the countless bats he has broken to floss his teeth than fail. He plays like he is trying to get even with someone.
This competitive gene will help the Rockies execute a U-turn. A team that has forever been a pushover has someone who will push back.
“You can’t make that kind of gesture to the fans. But Cole is on the short list of our most exciting players to watch. Our opponents feel him,” general manager Josh Byrnes said. “He runs hot at times. And that is why it was good for him to have a chance to reflect on what he did.”
The punishment came across as half-baked. Like grounding a child without taking away their phone and video game privileges. My preference was to bench him Sunday — all nine innings — and move on.
But Schaeffer believes that stretching it over two games had a greater impact.
“If he had just sat one game, it would have been like a regular day off,” Schaeffer said. “So how do you want to get the message across? To do it this way was not normal for him. He felt it. He understands what he did was wrong. And listen, I trust him moving forward.”
Schaeffer knows Carrigg better than most. As a manager, these are the type of decisions he must nail when evaluating the Rockies’ trajectory under his watch.
The good news is that he did not make excuses for Carrigg. Accountability is lacking in sports, but Schaeffer refused to let him off the hook.
What happens next will reveal whether it worked.
“You are definitely on to something,” Carrigg said. “As the game gets harder, I have to adjust.”
Watching Carrigg, he gives off Troy Tulowitzki vibes. I covered Tulo’s entire career in Colorado. He arrived with infectious belief and played with the equivalent of a clenched fist.
He was more talented than Carrigg.
But as a young player, like Carrigg, he spewed lava.
Tulo once broke a bat so violently that he landed on the disabled list with an injured hand. Carrigg reacts to outs like he was cut off in traffic, letting out words that must be muted on the broadcast.
Several helmets and bats have lost their lives to his temper.
“Do I feel badly for the (equipment)? No,” Carrigg said matter-of-factly. “They are free.”
Again, his personality is more sandpaper than satin. This is why I like him.
You win with players like this. Balance, though, is required. The Rockies need a percolating Carrigg. He will lose his usefulness — and test his teammates’ patience — if he must always be handled with oven mitts.
“I can learn from guys like Kyle (Freeland) and Jake (McCarthy), who just let stuff go. It works for them. It is a really hard thing to do. I get frustrated,” said Carrigg, who is hitting .260 with six home runs, 27 extra-base hits and eight stolen bases in 69 games. “I put a lot of (bleeping) effort into my craft, and I expect to do well. When I don’t, I get pissed off.”
Baseball is a series of solo performances in a concert. It feeds egos because players are defined by numbers. Byrnes and Schaeffer don’t see Carrigg as “selfish.” They believe he is driven by the standings.
“He has so much passion for the competition, for doing well and helping his team,” Byrnes said. “Some of it is just him finding the right dial setting.”
Carrigg went too far in Atlanta. He cannot let hecklers get in his head. He must wake up seeing rouge, not red.
Yet, he cannot change who he is. If you want to flip out over him flipping someone off, I understand. There is no place for it.
But the confidence and fury of Carrigg’s game? Yes, please.
Carrigg will show he has taken full responsibility if he does not repeat his actions.
The Rockies don’t need obscenities. They need his hostility.
“If I am frustrated, I need to go in the tunnel and not let it affect my teammates and be smarter about it,” Carrigg said. “But I have always played balls to the wall. And I am going to continue to do that for the rest of my career.”
