Ain’t karma a bitch.

We’ll talk about Sunday’s game tomorrow, since today is an off-day. But right now there are more important (and agonizing) things to discuss.

Game 18: 4/19/03

Colorado 10, San Diego 9 (ESPN)

As it turns out, Thursday’s game in Los Angeles was just a prelude for bigger things to come. Let’s begin by defining some terms (all from Merriam-Webster):

soul the immaterial essence, animating principle, or actuating cause of an individual life

crush to squeeze or force by pressure so as to alter or destroy structure

defeat frustration by nullification or by prevention of success

In each case, I’ve chosen the definition that best suits our discussion. We’ll come back to these in a bit, but first we must dip into something more concrete (actually, dipping into concrete might be an appropriate reaction to this game, but that’s another story).

After the Rockies jumped out to a 2-0 lead in the bottom of the first off Clay Condrey, rain and then hail arrived. Naturally, being the optimist that I am, I found myself pulling for more bad weather. Which is what I got. For nearly two hours, the game was delayed.

But alas, it was not postponed and when play resumed, the Rockies scored three more runs. By the third inning, they had extended their lead to 7-0, and it was looking like a repeat of Friday.

Then in the fourth, Mark Kotsay and Ryan Klesko launched back-to-back homers off Nelson Cruz. This at least was an indication that the Padres’ "immaterial essence" was still intact. Not to mention their chances of winning the game. As we all know, a four-run lead in Denver is like a one-run lead anywhere else.

And the bullpen, led by Matt Herges, Jaret Wright, and Jesse Orosco, held the home team at bay for the next four innings. With a one-run lead (more on that in a moment), Orosco came into the game with one out in the eighth to face Todd Helton and Larry Walker. Old Man River proceeded to retire (the sentence doesn’t end here; keep reading) Helton on a routine fly to center and Walker on a nasty slider down and away that the latter couldn’t check his swing on.

In the top of the eighth, against nemesis Todd Jones, the Pads had exploded for five runs. The first three came on a "homer" to right by Klesko, the other two on a shot by Sean Burroughs.

For those of you keeping score at home, this is where karma joins the story.

Klesko’s blast to right hit the yellow facade just above the scoreboard in right and caromed back onto the field. By rights the ball should have been in play and not ruled, as it was, a home run.

This is why, when Burroughs stepped to the plate after a walk to Rondell White, I should have known that the homer he was about to hit to give the Pads the lead would ultimately be meaningless. Which is a shame, because it was a heckuva shot by Burroughs. Good to see him turn on a ball and drive it out of the park (here’s hoping he can do that on days other than April 19).

But I didn’t think it through, and so I still had hope for the visitors. The Padres scored an insurance run in the ninth, and had runners at the corners with one out and what would have been White’s spot in the order coming to the plate. But White had been pulled in favor of Shane Victorino the previous inning, so now it was up to the rookie, who has exactly zero big-league hits to his credit [Ed.: he notched his first hit Sunday] and who is still learning how to swing the bat from the left side, to drive in the run. Because, as we know, a two-run lead in Coors Field means nothing.

But there’s only one out and a guy at third, so chances are if Victorino can just make contact, the Pads score a run. It’s not as threatening as if White had been at the plate, but at least there’s a chance that something good will happen.

Something good did not happen.

After jumping ahead in the count, Colorado reliever Steve Reed faked a throw to third and fired to first. That’s right, he did the pickoff move that nobody this side of Ruben Rivera buys.

Klesko bought it. Karma. Gave him a homer, took an out from him.

He was tagged out without so much as a rundown. Kotsay had to stay put at third. Victorino proceeded to fly to right, to end the inning.

Bottom of the ninth. Enter Brandon Villafuerte. What is the one thing you don’t do with a two-run lead in Coors Field in the nith inning? Walk the leadoff hitter.

Preston Wilson walked.

Jose Hernandez followed with a single, bringing up catcher Bobby Estalella. If Villafuerte can get him to hit the ball on the ground, there’s a chance that something good will happen.

Estalella hit the ball on the ground, but again, something good did not happen.

Lou Merloni, who had entered the game an inning earlier, snagged the roller and threw the ball just under the glove of Ramon Vazquez, allowing one run to score and keeping two men on base with none out.

Brent Butler then came up and laid down a bunt. Villafuerte came off the mound and made a terrific play to nail Hernandez at third on a bang-bang play, which brought up Chris Stynes, pinch-hitting for Reed.

Stynes, as I have mentioned, is a guy I thought the Padres should have made an attempt to sign this off-season. He does everything Keith Lockhart does, only he does them well.

But they didn’t, and the Rockies did. And against Villafuerte this night, he worked the count full and whacked a single to right. Tie ballgame.

Uh-oh.

Now we have a situation. One out, runners at the corners, back to the top of the order.

Ronnie Belliard bunted the first pitch from Villafuerte hard toward Klesko at first. Klesko charged, picked up the ball, and threw wildly to the plate, game over.

So many things went wrong in those final two innings, it’s hard to pinpoint any one of them as the culprit. Personally, I’m sticking with the umpire’s botched call on Klesko’s drive to right. It’s like my brother-in-law, who is putting money on the Lakers in Vegas so they’ll lose. The fact that Klesko’s hit was ruled a home run pretty much ensured a bad outcome for the Padres. The fact that his poor baserunning and wild throw contributed to the outcome were just icing on the metaphysical cake.

Back, then, to definitions.

soul-crushing defeat the prevention of success and accompanying frustration that results from the squeezing (or, in our case, the squeeze play) or forcing by pressure and subsequent alteration or destruction of the immaterial essence, animating principle, or actuating cause of a group of individuals.*

*Here I take a small liberty by extending from the one to the many.

A concrete example: Enduring a two-hour rain delay, coming back from a 7-0 defecit, and then giving it away.

The good news, if one chooses to view it as such, is that karma doesn’t play favorites. The Padres aren’t a great team right now, not by any stretch. But they’re capable of better than this.

The other good news is that soul-crushing defeats can lead to better things. In our definition, we talked about "alteration or destruction" of the team’s spirit. Phoenix from the flame? Maybe this is the game that gets the club fired up (sorry, couldn’t resist) and moving in the right direction. (Or judging from Sunday’s outcome, maybe not; but it might be a necessary step in the growing process.)

If all this sounds like so much justification, well, there’s probably truth in that. This is a young, inexperienced team and there are going to be days when they break your heart. The best we can hope for is that they learn something from these mistakes and apply what they learn to future situations. And that when they do, it will be someone else’s turn to say, "Ain’t karma a bitch."