This could be as simple as we want it to be.
Maybe it’s something along the lines of:
- Be Born
- Be A Rockies Fan
- Watch The Rockies Play
- Repeats Steps 2-3 Again
I think it’s perfectly fine to vent some frustration after what I witnessed last night. The worst loss in the history of the Colorado Rockies wasn’t something I intended to see on one of my days off. Did I expect to lose to a team capable of paying two future hall-of-fame players?
Yes. Of course I walked into Coors Field knowing this. I knew we’d lose just like I knew there were free beach towels being given away (they’re cool, he said, glancing at his consolation prize for witnessing another loss).
What I didn’t know is that the loss would be the loss of all losses. Like some sort of Three Stooges gag where the Rockies are mercilessly beaten and dragged and then somehow manage to hit themselves over the head with hammers and pickaxes. And much like those comedies, at a certain point the loss was laughable, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. But then it got worse, so much worse. A score so bad it felt as if we were all watching a massacre. You really couldn’t laugh anymore. There was a time where Rockies fans applauded when the harrowing third-inning was finally over, but it didn’t stop. There weren’t enough free towels to wipe away the tears of what myself and so many others witnessed. I did my part and reported last night’s highlights. 
The point is incredibly clear. Being a Rockies fan isn’t easy. In fact, after a certain point you can’t just laugh away the pain inside of your soul. There’s physical pain. Years of these losses culminated into one that will be lauded in Colorado history.
I would prefer not to break down what the Rockies need to do next. We can dump all the players we want to and let the kids play as much as we can. We can start sell the team chants or boycott or try some sort of tactic as a collective fanbase in an attempt to elicit change.
In reality, there isn’t much else we can do. As Rockies fans—and maybe just as Colorado residents as a whole—we need to simply embrace what we’ve been dealt.
We are losers. For this season and hopefully not many more after, we need to be honest with our identity.
As a patented loser myself, I can help guide those who may be new to this loser-lifestyle. It’s more of a mindset than anything else, a culture of letdowns and heartbreaks. Being a loser is a life of adaptation. It’s about holding in those feelings of loss and disappointment and inevitably lashing out like a wild animal whenever the opportunity arrives. This goes for any fan, across any sport, if your team is bad and embarrassing, we understand, we’re here for you.
Be smart, follow these steps, and you’ll be ready to be a loser like the rest of us Rockies fans.
Step 1: Be Honest With Yourself
Look in the mirror before you go to a Rockies game. Remember the semblance of happiness you still have before you witness whatever happens on that field. Force yourself to smile a couple of times, work on what you’re going to say when the runs start pouring in for the other team.
“Well, let’s hope it’s quick.”
“Maybe we still have a chance?”
“Oh God, please, make this insufferable life stop. What did I do in my past life to deserve this living damnation and eternal hellfire I must endure?”
Remember, you’re a loser. Say that to yourself. Get the hurt out of the way before the suffering begins. Eventually, you’ll be home. You’ll be happy. The Rockies can only hurt you for so long.
Step 2: Talk To Your Loved Ones
Tell them where you’re going or if you’re going to watch the Rockies play so they know to check in on you every now and then. It’s crucial to have a support system in order to get through this. Admit to whoever it is you talk to that you’re not expecting much. Ask them about their day and steer the conversation away from yourself as often as possible. The less you talk about what you’re about to witness, the easier it may be for you.
Step 3: Dress The Part
Wear the jersey. Sure, the player on the back may have been traded or left in free agency long ago, but, a soldier has to wear his uniform, right? Put on those purple pinstripes. Get those pitiful looks on the Light Rail or in the grocery store. People will see you. They will let you know you’re not alone, even though they may not be wearing a jersey out of a refusal to look as sad as you do, they are there for you. Maybe someone will buy you a beer out of pure sympathy for the loser you are.
Step 4: Embrace The Pain
When the losing begins, try your best to remember all the good things in life that you have. The Nuggets just won. The Avalanche are good. The Broncos have, hope? Talk to the people around you. Steer the conversation towards something where you can be self-deprecating. Soak in the summer sky and remember the times when you weren’t this bad. There’s a lot of worse places to be in this world and while Coors Field may be ground zero for embarrassment, just know at some point the game must end, you can only lose for so long.
Step 5: Live In A Dream World
So, when you make it through the game, or at any point you choose, you can start imagining a world where you’re not a loser. It’s a distant future. Somehow, by some miracle, the team has been sold and there’s something worth all of those painful years. The Rockies are competitive. Maybe, and in this dream world it’s not such a wild thought, we’re thinking of the World Series? Think of yourself as happy. Think of yourself in your jersey as someone not worth pity. When people see you they will see someone who has hope. For now, just stay there, in this world where you’re not a loser.
I never said it would be easy. Being a loser takes a lot of patience, dedication, and understanding that this is the life you have to live. Remember there’s more to life than baseball. I’m not a loser outside of Coors Field and neither are any other Rockies fans reading this. Sure, when it comes to baseball we are losers, but it’s a lot like work, don’t take it home with you.
Pay attention to Step 5 as much as you can, that’s what I do.
Image Sources:
YouTube
Associated Press