How does one of baseball’s greatest ever at a position already still manage to add to his resume at that position? How does a team full of guys most people have never heard of make a run at the postseason in a division with two fire-breathing behemoths?

How, in the world, did the Colorado Rockies manage to make the postseason in 2017?

We continue our countdown of the Top 10 most memorable moments from the season by worrying less about the “how” and simply taking time to bask in the glory of a couple of tingle-inducing achievements.

Honorable Mention: Nolan Being Nolan, June 27

You know you’ve achieved elite status when you turn the extraordinary into the mundane, setting a new bar of expectations that applies only to you. Like Kendrick Lamar, though, Nolan Arenado manages to keep getting higher and higher, at times seemingly impossible standards for himself on defense.

And then, just when you think you’ve seen it all, right when you are secure in the notion that you live in a world where the laws of physics limit the possible outcomes for wizardry at third base, Arenado fields a bunt on the pitcher’s side of the mound and makes a swift barehand throw all the way across his body to get a lead runner at second. And that isn’t even the play we are talking about today.

His ability to show fans, coaches, GMs, and players in both dugouts something they’ve never seen before on a semi-regular basis in a game that has had official professional leagues for nearly 150 years is mind-boggling.

Coming into 2017, Arenado had already amassed a collection of web gems that could populate a highlight reel unlike any other. He makes great plays so often, that determining one of them to be even better than the rest requires something truly special. And in June, he did something that caused BSN Denver to rank it in the Top 5 defensive plays of his career. That, my friends, is saying something.

The most unusual part of this play is probably the fact that Arenado did not initially field the ball cleanly, something for which he would later criticize himself.

A hard, sinking liner to his left prompted a few quick steps and a dive, but Nolan actually overshot a little, letting the baseball bounce off the heel of his glove and drop just a few feet in front of him. For most people, normal people, that would have been the end of it. A valiant effort coming up just a bit short. What happened next was the baseball equivalent of Whitney Houston hitting the high note in the National Anthem.

Arenado, still sprawled out on his stomach, reached out with his bare hand and in one motion picked it up, wheeled around to his backside and unleashed a missile from the seat of his pants to narrowly get the runner.

Everyone went crazy, including the San Francisco Giants commentary team. Sometimes, you just have to appreciate true brilliance and this was one of those times.

There is a reason why Nolan Arenado has won a Gold Glove each and every time he has been eligible to. Actually, there are a lot of reasons, and this is just one.

No. 3: Making The Dance, September 30

In the immortal words of Herm Edwards, “You play to win the game.” And in 2017, the Rockies won just enough games to make the dance for the first time since 2009. This is what the whole season was about.

This moment is only slightly tempered by the fact of how difficult it is to pinpoint exactly what fans should celebrate. The singular standout moment actually came in a game the Rockies weren’t even playing, though it did feature a former, fondly remembered teammate. When Juan Nicasio finished off a St. Louis Cardinals victory over the Milwaukee Brewers, capping a six-run comeback, it was official; the Rox had made the dance.

There was a “weather delay” before that evening’s contest with the Los Angeles Dodgers. Conditions called for an overabundance of sunshine and celebration in the home clubhouse.

Then, that night, they jumped all over Clayton Kershaw for the third time in the season, showing once again that they will not back down from the game’s very best. The tide turned and the Dodgers came back to win the game, but nobody associated with the Rockies paid it much mind. That game was just a momentary distraction from the post-game festivities to come.

As we huddled our way down familiar hallways we found ourselves entering a suddenly unfamiliar clubhouse. The music, always bit loud after a big win, was turned up to 11. The champagne was flying, the hugs and thank yous and tearful recognitions were punctuated by explosions of joy-filled, guttural screams. The most reserved and quiet players and coaches totally lost themselves in the moment, letting it all sink in.

A handful of veterans stood near the sidelines, taking it all in while the countless youngsters who had never experienced anything like this became one sea of humanity, jumping and cheering and chanting in unison.

The second the clubhouse was sufficiently soaked, the floor becoming more of a liquid substance than anything else, the ballplayers began rushing down the hallway toward the dugout and then up onto the field they call home. Gathering on the mound, they posed for a team photo before many of the rookies ran for the fountains beyond the centerfield fence. Who could feel cold at a time like this?

Guys who have been fighting tooth-and-nail their entire careers finally got to live a little.

DJ LeMahieu, who was a throw-in to a trade between the Rockies and Chicago Cubs, who had been stuck on a struggling team after being completely overlooked only to be underrated in his new home, finally had that revelatory moment:

Greg Holland, who had experienced this kind of phenomenal chaos before with Kansas City, told us exactly how and why players never get tired of these kinds of moments:

Jon Gray was able to bask in the realization of becoming a dominating player on a postseason team, the dream that everyone involved had when they drafted him out of Oklahoma:

Kyle Freeland, the hometown kid, was practically beside himself in exuberance, knowing that he was instrumental in getting the team he plays for, and the one he has rooted for his entire life, to the dance:

And Carlos Gonzalez, the face and smile of the Colorado Rockies—the only player to have seen the postseason in purple pinstripes before—reflected on how much the organization and his time in Denver meant to him:

Baseball is a game built on failure. To succeed a third of the time in the box is to be well above average. To win a third of your road games can be considered good. Giving up just three runs or fewer every nine innings makes you an elite pitcher. The very best teams still lose 60 times. Perfection is impossible.

Through all those imperfections, unforeseen setbacks, and all the doubt that can easily creep in for both fans and players, making it to the postseason can feel more like surviving in a dystopian landscape than it does winning some glorious crown. That is, except in moments like these.

It’s so rare in this game to be able to take a second and appreciate all the hard work that went in to just surviving long enough to play, as it turned out just one more game. But that’s one more game than most teams got.

The Rockies survived 2017.

They lost their two best pitchers, Jon Gray and Tyler Anderson, for large chunks of the season. Their flashy offseason acquisition, Ian Desmond, was a shadow of himself struggling through injury. Their star rookie shortstop from a year prior couldn’t adjust back to the league until the final weeks of the season. Catcher and middle relief remained huge question marks until the trade deadline.

They went on multiple streaks where they could neither score or win close games, at one point dropping eight in a row to interdivisional opponents. They appeared lost in August, but by the beginning of October had completed a season that (almost) nobody saw coming.

Time will tell if 2017 was a blip on the radar or the start of something special. But one thing was made abundantly clear on that cool September night; the Colorado Rockies desperately wish to recreate this moment, hopefully in even crazier fashion, getting themselves used to the unmistakably sweet taste of champagne.