"Oh, good. For a minute there I thought we were in trouble." -- Butch Cassidy

Hi, my name is Brandi Griffin, aka Rox Girl from Purple Row, and for my first impression on Rox and Sox Blogtoberfest, I would like to do "Red Sox Blogger":

Oh look at me, poor little hated Red Sox Nation... woe... woe... woe... my team's $143 million payroll and multimedia conglomerate and NASCAR racing team will never catch up to the Yankees... Sigh... Theo Epstein rocks.

Pretty good, huh? I think I can go on the road with this.

Stop being so emo, Dan. Own up to your New Evil Empire status. Embrace it. Feel the dark side surge through or whatever it is that little green guy says. What? It wasn't the little green guy? Oh yeah, the old wrinkly guy. Sorry, I get them confused sometimes. Just not a fan of the genre. Anyway, Dan, face it: The Boston Red Sox are the bad guys right now. The Colorado Rockies, my Colorado Rockies, are the good guys. The hopelessly outgunned Good Guys, perhaps, but that's how good Westerns get made. You can't have a team of destiny without impossible odds and a worthy nemesis for that team to overcome. Butch and Sundance against an army of Bolivians with pink "B" monogrammed visors. David versus a ghastly green-jerseyed Goliath. The team is full of some warped doppelgangers sprung out of a mirror and come to torment the Rockies. Kevin Youkilis is bizarro Todd Helton. Devil goateed Josh Beckett is bizarro Jeff Francis. Mike Lowell's eyebrows are Josh Fogg's bizarro sideburns. Manny? Just bizarre.

Okay, so admittedly, everybody loves Big Papi, but you know somewhere behind that big cuddly teddy bear exterior lies something sinister. I just can't figure out what yet. Anyway, my point is, while rooting for the Red Sox should only be done if you've lost your moral compass or already root for other evils, rooting for the Rockies is easy.

The Rockies are playing for a widow, they are playing for the memory of # 64 and giving hope to kids with cancer. They're working class heroes, surprised as anyone that they've made it this far. They've climbed up the steps in Philadelphia, alternated their training in hot and cold environments in Arizona and Colorado, and now they have to go up against some strange Neil Diamond singing Apollo Creed for the heavyweight title. Sure there's been some incredible luck involved, but that's part of what makes this story so compelling.

How far can this run go? Only four more wins is all we need. By the way, you didn't see LeFors out there, did you?

Brandi Griffin writes about the Colorado Rockies under the name Rox Girl at Purple Row.

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