She transformed the ugliest season in Rockies history into a gorgeous work of art.

With our wretched local baseball team in desperate need of a miracle-worker, maybe the Rockies should seriously consider hiring Jeannie Peppel as their next general manager.

“I didn’t know I was making something to commemorate Rockies history,” Peppel told me Thursday, as we chatted in an Olde Town Arvada pizza parlor. “I just like to crochet to keep my hands busy while watching TV.”

Hidden in a large bag at her feet, waiting for its grand unveiling, was a heartfelt tribute to a hapless ballclub that couldn’t win for losing.

OK, how should we properly remember every excruciating day of a major-league baseball season in Colorado that seemed like it might never end?

Well, you might find this cold comfort.

But all 119 losses suffered by the Rockies have been immortalized in a blanket woven from a little purple and a whole lot of black yarn, one loving crochet line at a time.

Let’s tip our caps in salute to a longtime Denver Public Schools principal  who might be the most ambitious baseball artist since LeRoy Neiman.

After laboring all summer long to crochet the story of a team that fell apart at the seams, Peppel deserves a standing ovation.

Or maybe a sympathy card.

“We are Rockies supporters,” Jeannie said, while sitting alongside Mike, her husband. “And we will defend the team … but only up to a point.”

With the patience of a baseball saint, she not only handcrafted a memento of dubious Colorado sports history, but has stubbornly refused to throw up her hands in disgust at the most hopeless team in the National League.

The Peppels have been Rockies season ticket-holders since Day 1, way back in 1993. Season after season, they purchase four seats in Row 23 of Section 127, between home plate and the home team’s dugout.

I’d tell you the exact dollar amount of the not-so-small fortune the Peppels have spent while enduring the agony of 1,272 home defeats during a 33-year span, but my calculator overheated and fizzled out while trying to add up the damage.

“Baseball is something we did together as a family for three decades,” Jeannie said. She cherishes the memory of watching two, now-adult children grow up at Coors Field, and still chuckles at the image of her 8-year-old son getting in a heated debate with two drunks in the stands about the merits of Ken Griffey Jr.

At the dawn of spring, long before any of us truly knew how low these Rockies could go, she began with the ambitious goal of crocheting a blanket big enough to wrap Dinger in.

Working from a spreadsheet meticulously prepared by Mike, she decided to color code the team’s results, giving one wide row of tightly interlocking yarn for each of the 162 regular-season games.

The code, for those of you keeping score at home:

White = home win.

Black = home loss.

Purple = road win.

Grey = road loss.

After the Rockies took a pratfall out of the gates and couldn’t get up, losing 33 of 40 games to open the season, including a 21-0 thumping by San Diego, the blanket was awash in the sadness of black and grey.

“At the start of the season,” Mike said, “there was so much black and grey it looked like she was crocheting a blanket for the Oakland Raiders.”

The wretched start forced the artist to add one additional color to the scheme.

Red = Manager Bud Black fired.

“At the start of the season, we bought one spool of yarn in each color,” Jeannie said. “But we had to go back for more black and grey.”

“Twice,” Mike added.

Art cannot be rushed. Peppel estimates her tribute to a Rockies season that will live in infamy took more than 35 hours to make.

“The crochet blanket,” she said, “was a labor of love.”

And loss.

After general manager Bill Schmidt was given a not-so-gentle nudge out the door earlier this week, Rockies owner Dick Monfort said: “A new voice will benefit our organization as we work towards giving our fans the competitive team they deserve.”

Well, how about this for a start in making amends with two of the team’s most loyal and long-suffering patrons?

On Opening Day of the 2026 season, Monfort should let Jeannie throw the ceremonial first pitch, give her the baseball version of a purple heart and reward Mike’s perseverance with free season tickets for life.

“We like going to baseball games,” Jeannie said. “So the fact that the Rockies aren’t going to the World Series won’t stop us.”

The blanket? Let me be the first to say it deserves to be enshrined in Cooperstown as Peppel’s sober reminder of baseball history we hope and pray is never repeated

As a true student of the game, Peppel knows the New York Mets lost 120 times in 1962.

“And seven years later, the Amazin’ Mets won the World Series,” she said. “So maybe there’s hope for the Rockies.”

In the meantime, the blanket will be found in the Peppel home, available for wrapping any visitor that wants to reminisce about those 119 losses during the long winter months ahead.

Cold comfort.

Indeed.