The Rockies will play their first season in 14 years without former National League Batting Champion and two-time Silver Slugger Charlie Blackmon.

Though the clubhouse has always been led by committee, Blackmon was still the most prominent voice because of his consistency and occasional “Chuckisms.”

While building his legacy as an all-time Rockies legend, third baseman Ryan McMahon stayed at the hip of Blackmon and tried to get as much information from the outfielder as possible.

“I was in his ear a lot. I’m sure if you asked him, [he’d say] I asked him way too many questions,” McMahon said. “I saw a lot of things he did and learned a lot from talking to him.”

When Blackmon descended into the dugout after his final career at-bat that produced a base hit, his departure represented a changing of the guard. McMahon seemed to be the most qualified for the job because of his relationship to the newly-retired Blackmon.

Like Blackmon, McMahon’s leadership transcends the positional limits on the team—just because he’s an infielder, doesn’t mean his guidance stops at the cut of the grass.

“Him and I personally have a really solid, kind of brotherly relationship,” outfielder Sean Bouchard said. “[He’s] really good with communicating with the younger dudes and making sure everyone feels comfortable.”

Bouchard is battling for a corner outfield spot on the big league roster. McMahon is a shoulder to lean on in the competition dramatized by Colorado trading away Nolan Jones for utility man Tyler Freeman and sending down Spring Training MVP Zac Veen.

Throughout his eight-year Rockies career, Bouchard watched McMahon evolve into a key figure in the clubhouse. He has first-hand experience with McMahon’s ability to emit his calming demeanor to others, something Blackmon mastered.

“It was a quiet confidence with Chuck,” McMahon said. “You just always knew he was taking care of business, he was doing exactly what he needed to be doing.”

Aside from learning from Blackmon, McMahon is an effective leader for this young Rockies organization, which is one of the 10 youngest in MLB with an average age of 28.79, because of his relatability.

A veteran presence, yes, but he is also only 30 years old and in the prime of his career after making his first All-Star Game appearance in 2024.

Oftentimes, fans tend to put the players on a pedestal and forget they are people just like everyone else. McMahon serves as a reminder to that sentiment, even to teammates in the clubhouse.

“In reality, we’re exactly the same,” first baseman Michael Tolgia said. “we play video games together, we do all the same stuff. We have the same interests as everyone else.”

As corner infield counterparts, Toglia and McMahon must have top-notch communication whether they’re gunning down runners on the basepaths or enemies in Call of Duty. Like playing team deathmatch, McMahon does not waste a breath when leading this squad.

“He’ll tell you what he sees, like he’ll just be honest with you,” Toglia said. “You need that, like, you can’t just sugar coat or lie … I really like that about him.”

Though McMahon has adopted a casual and blunt approach to his leadership, he still flashes inspiration from the Rockies special assistant the general manager. Especially in knowing when to be in friend and coach mode.

“[Chuck] didn’t speak up much during games,” McMahon said. “But when we got on the bus, he was our mic guy.”

During Spring Training, McMahon held an audience of five teammates as he flipped through a rolodex of exaggerated batting stances both real and fictional. He shared stories through a soft smile of his younger days and all the adjustments he and his old teammates made.

Newly-acquired infielder, Kyle Farmer, took a crack at entertaining the intimate crowd. While he took center stage, McMahon shifted in his cushioned folding chair to talk hitting with outfielder Sam Hilliard.

What started as a humorous bit on the phases of stances hitters go through their career, turned into a constructive discussion about what mechanics Hillard needed to change to cut down on strikeouts.

The head of the clubhouse doesn’t have an untamed beard with a mullet spilling out of the back of a baseball cap, but rather a big smile and frequent dry swings with a pitching wedge in front of his locker. Either way, Colorado has their guy.