"All lost, the one thing Rockies relief pitcher Huston Street refused to do was cry. His voice cracked. Anguish moistened the corners of his eyes. But tears? No way. A ballgame blown, Street fought to keep what little this beaten man had: his dignity.

"The lazy step for me would be to walk out of here with my tail between my legs and tears coming down my face, then go home and lay in bed for two weeks," Street said Monday night, after surrendering three runs in a nightmarish ninth inning that gave Philadelphia a shocking 5-4 victory and eliminated Colorado from the playoffs.

Here's what you need to know about the sudden death of Colorado's baseball season: The pain of losing a no-tomorrow game invades the heart with a dark

chill, whether you are 10 years old and trudging toward a Little League dugout, or you are Street, whose $4.5 million salary meant absolutely nothing when he looked into the disconsolate faces of teammates.

"You don't hurt for yourself. You hurt for your teammates. You hurt for the opportunity we lost," Street said.

The harsh business end of the deal is: Does a franchise that must watch every nickel dare plunk down $25 million on a three-year contract for a closer who blew the two games that cost Colorado any chance at winning the World Series? I wouldn't do it. Relief pitchers are the most volatile investment in the baseball business.

We envy the millions that athletes are paid. But know what's more powerful? The raw emotion painted on the mug of every Colorado player after being dumped from the National League Division Series. To feel so deeply is priceless."