Todd Helton has his rightful place in baseball history.
17 seasons, all with the Colorado Rockies, for close to two decades the “Toddfather” was more than just the face of the franchise, he was the franchise.
While other stars passed through the Mile High City over the course of their careers, Helton was the lone staple of Coors Field.
From the time that I fell in love with baseball as a young grade schooler, all the way up through my freshman year of college, the one constant in my life was No. 17 out there at first base.
My first favorite athlete, the first poster I hung up in my childhood bedroom, there was nobody I wanted to be like more than Todd Helton. I wore 17 in multiple sports and used to mimic his mannerisms. I can’t even fathom how many hours I spent throwing a tennis ball off the garage trying to pick it like him.
His process at the plate was like watching an elegant painter. Every movement had purpose and he was always in total control. Pitches that would fool even the best of hitters, Helton wouldn’t flinch at them. If you left a ball hanging out over the plate, though, he sure as hell would make you pay.
We could talk about his 2000 season, when he was snubbed of the MVP despite hitting a league-leading .372 with 42 HR, 147 RBI and 216 hits. His 59 doubles that year tied for the seventh-most in any single season in MLB history, and at the time it was the most by any player since 1936.
We could talk about his entire run from 2000-04, when he was not only one of the game’s best hitters but also the best defensive first baseman in the NL. He went to five consecutive All-Star games and earned four Silver Slugger Awards in addition to his three Gold Gloves during that time.
What we should talk about is his loyalty. 17 seasons with the same organization.
Helton could have played anywhere. During his prime there wasn’t a team in baseball that wouldn’t have wanted an elite two-way player like him. But he stayed. He didn’t force a trade out or sign with the Yankees. Year after year, he stayed loyal to the team that drafted him and the city that adored him.
It’s rare in any sport to stay in one city for an entire career, but especially when the team is not very successful and the player is one of the best at what they do.
Thank goodness that the trade that would have sent him to Boston fell through before the 2007 season. Knowing what we do now, it’s almost like the “baseball gods” rewarded him staying put with the first playoff appearance of his career.
Though he unfortunately only went to the postseason twice, Rocktober will forever be an iconic period in Colorado sports history. It feels fitting that the most memorable photo from the run was an emotional Helton raising his hands in the air triumphantly after the Rockies won Game 4 of the NLCS.
Many have worn the pinstripes over the years, some even baseball legends in their own right, but none have meant to the Rockies faithful what Helton did. He represented something so much bigger than just one of nine. He was Rockies baseball.
Colorado may not have had the success of the big market teams, but when the conversation turned to Helton, it was a point of pride for those of us that tuned in every night. We knew that it was a blessing getting to see him rip balls into the gap. We knew the plays he made in the field were not ordinary. Nothing about his approach to the game was.
What Helton meant to me
“I don’t care how long this goes, we’re not leaving.”
I’ll never forget my Gramps looking me dead in the eyes, with both hands on my shoulders, excitedly proclaiming this as we sat behind home plate during Game 163 of the 2007 season.
He, a lifelong baseball fan, was there for the first-ever home game back in 1993. When Coors Field opened in 1995, he was there in section 112, row 26, seat 1. The team’s first playoff appearance in 1995, the 1998 All-Star Game, he was there for it all.
Throughout my childhood, many of our conversations were about baseball and the Rockies specifically. It was a way for us to connect and I hope he knows just how big of an influence that it had on me. In a lot of ways, it’s because of him that I fell in love with the game.
He bought me the Mazuno glove that I learned to play baseball with. He was with me both times I was fortunate enough to snag a ball in the stands — the first from Miguel Cabrera in 2003 and the second from Jason Giambi in 2011.
Though I’ve been privileged to attend quite a few incredible sporting events in my lifetime, outside of an AFC Championship setting at Mile High, nothing has come close to the energy inside Coors Field during that tiebreaker game against the Padres.
When Matt Holiday was ruled safe and the stadium erupted, you could feel the ground shaking as the crowd of 50,144 celebrated what at the time, was the team’s greatest achievement of my conscious life.
I’ll never forget those moments in Coors Field with my Gramps or watching late-night games with my entire family as we huddled around the TV together.
I’ll never forget how excited I was to get my first Helton jersey in the third grade. I wore that thing for years until it quite literally fell apart.
I’ll never forget playing MVP Baseball 2005 and just ripping dingers with Helton over the manual scoreboard in right field.
I’ll never forget how full my heart felt when we finally got to hear his name called on the Hall of Fame broadcast and we saw the smile on his face as his incredible career was recognized amongst the greatest to ever play.
Welcome to Cooperstown. It’s where the Helton legacy belongs.
