SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. – Before the sad-sack Rockies can cure their crippling case of altitude sickness, somebody needs to tell manager Warren Schaeffer how to fix his 5,280 headache.

“I’ll tell you what I do feel at altitude,” Schaeffer told me Friday. “When I come off the plane, back into Denver, I have a splitting, enormous headache every single time. It won’t go away for like an entire day. And I can’t sleep at night. You put those two things together, and that ain’t good.”

Since 1993, playing baseball a mile above sea level has plagued the Colorado Rockies.

Altitude has been blamed for why the franchise has never won the World Series. Everyone believes the Rockies can’t pitch at 5,280. And they can’t hit anywhere else. Oxygen deprivation makes the body weary during the grind of a 162-game season.

It’s a curse. 

So how do the Rockies find the winning formula for Altitudeball? 

They hired Paul DePodesta, a Moneyball numbers guru, to crunch the monster adverse effects of 5,280 down to a size the Rockies can beat.

“Yes, the physics of the game are different at altitude. That’s what people focus on: The ball doesn’t move as much from the pitcher and the ball flies farther off the bat,” DePodesta said.

“But I think there are some other really interesting aspects of altitude that we have to attack. Part of that focus is physiological. There’s a challenge during baseball season of living at altitude for six days at a time, but never more than 10 days. Rest and recovery, especially in our game, where you play every day, is so important. And we even need to address the effect of altitude when your team goes on the road.” 

Altitude is a mystery the Rockies have been working on forever, with no real clues. We do know the riddle is more complex than the simplistic idea of staging home-run derby contests at Coors Field, then trying to transform those same Colorado players into masters of small ball on the road.

“Our challenge dealing with altitude is different than the other sports teams that play in Denver,” DePodesta said.

He believes the Rockies spend so much time at sea level during the regular season that they largely forfeit the benefits of training at altitude, and because the game of baseball moves at a slower aerobic pace than football, basketball and hockey, the Rockies can’t leverage 5,280 as a method to run other teams into the ground.

“It is a really interesting puzzle. But with technology, we have way more tools than we did 15 years ago to figure out some of these things,” DePodesta said. “For instance: 15 years ago, people may have said: ‘Sliders don’t break as much at Coors, so don’t sign pitchers who are slider-heavy.’ Now, we have the technology where we can look at every different type of slider and say: ‘Altitude doesn’t affect this kind of slider as much as another type of slider.’ We can get way more granular in evaluating talent that will play well in Colorado.”

Beyond the data points, general manager Josh Byrnes added, there needs to be an increased emphasis on the mental make-up of players who are more obsessed with a stubborn refusal to succumb to altitude and beating opponents by any means necessary than a pitcher who defines himself by how many inches of vertical break are on his curveball or a hitter who gets bummed by the gap between his home/road batting splits.

“We’ve got some working theories on altitude,” DePodesta said. “But we haven’t solved it yet.”

Although this will be his first full season as Rockies manager, Schaeffer has hopped in and out of Denver as a member of the team’s coaching staff since 2023.

He’s fitness obsessed and a ripped 41-year-old dude who believes a day with lifting weights is akin to day without sunshine. For all the proper care and feeding of his body, has Schaeffer discovered a reliable cure for his chronic case of altitude sickness?

“No,” he replied. “I drink water until I think I’m going to explode. And that doesn’t help.”

So when Schaeffer says he feels the pain of the Rockies playing baseball at altitude, the empathy is as real as his nagging headache.

“It’s tough for me. And it’s got to be tough for some players, too,” Schaeffer said. Altitude “is all part of the deal. But we can’t run away from that. I’m not going to take a day off because I’ve got a headache. Those (players) aren’t, either. We’ve got to find a way.”

His way to combat altitude-induced fatigue?

“I love coffee,” Schaeffer said. “I’m ready to go when it’s game time. Don’t worry about that.”

The thin air, however, deprives his team of quality pitching, consistent hitting and adequate recovery time.

Neither the humidor nor a bottomless pot of coffee is going to cure what ails a baseball team that lives at 5,280.

Before they can win a World Series, the Rockies must find a way to live and thrive on baseball’s dark side of the moon.