Corpas' father boards first plane, bound for Denver

Closer Manny Corpas repeatedly tried to get his father to the U.S., without any luck. Doug Pensinger/Getty Images

World Series Coverage   Monday John Donovan: Rox, Sox built to last Albert Chen: Ellsbury an unlikely hero Joe Sheehan: Scenes, notes from clincher Red Sox celebrate World Series victory Sunday Sox clip Rockies 4-3 to win World Series John Donovan's Report Card for Game 4 Jon Heyman's 15 Greatest Mr. Octobers Lowell takes home Series MVP honors Dynasty in the making for Red Sox? Clock strikes midnight for Rockies' ride Time.com: Red Sox are the new Yankees Saturday Red Sox down Rockies 10-5, take 3-0 lead John Donovan's Report Card for Game 3 Tom Verducci: The Sox are superior John Donovan: The Coors Field factor Jon Heyman: Four keys to Game 3 Friday Melissa Segura: Corpas gets his wish John Donovan: Rockies' lumber slumber Jon Heyman: How the Sox got Beckett Joe Sheehan: Electric night at Fenway Thursday Schilling, bullpen shut down Rockies 2-1 John Donovan's Report Card for Game 2 Tom Verducci's five cuts for Thursday Albert Chen on the Red Sox's bullpen John Donovan: Rockies turn to a rookie Joe Sheehan: Postseason drama lacking Tale of the Tape: Rockies vs. Red Sox World Series Fungoes Joe Lemire on Rockies-Red Sox Schedule/Box Scores Game 1: Red Sox 13, Rockies 1 Game 2: Red Sox 2, Rockies 1 Game 3: Red Sox 10, Rockies 5 Game 4: Red Sox 4, Rockies 3

DENVER -- Benny Quintero couldn't take it anymore. He'd seen his client, Colorado Rockies closer Manny Corpas, walk out of the clubhouse, passed the throng of other Rockies' moms and dads waiting for their sons, and board the bus -- alone. He'd seen how proudly Todd Helton's dad stood in the team's hotel lobby, decked out in Colorado Rockies gear from head to toe and he'd seen the look on Manny's face, heard the disappointment in his voice the three times the United States embassy in Panama rejected Manny's father's request for a tourist visa to see his son play.

Every time Quintero thought of Corpas taking the mound for the World Series -- the World Series! -- while Manuel, Manny's father, sat half a world away watching his son in his Panama City living room, and all of a sudden it's July 24, 1977 all over again for Quintero. He becomes the 10-year-old boy running off the baseball diamond, just having won the Leipsic, Ohio Little League title, with no one to watch him, no one to hug. The rest of his family couldn't be there that day. They were at the funeral home for the viewing of Quintero's father, Martin, who died at age 38 of a heart attack.

"To me, [the Little League championship] was the World Series," says Quintero.

Motivated by that memory, Quintero entered -- or at least thought he entered -- "senator" into the Google search box. It would take, Quintero knew, and act of Congress, or at least that of a senator, to put Manuel in the seats at Coors Field for Saturday's Game 3 of the World Series. Quintero called the first number the search engine spit out and explained how Manny Corpas, a 24-year-old right-hander hailing not far from the home of another Panamanian closer named Mariano Rivera, helped propel the Rockies to their first World Series in franchise history, how he converted his first 16 save opportunities, and how, no matter how hard he tried, Corpas's dad couldn't be there to see his son.

"That's a great story," the woman on the other end of the phone said, "but you've called an art gallery."

Lois Anderson, the gallery's owner, flipped through her phone book until she found Colorado Senator Ken Salazar's office number. The Democratic senator had his staff place a series of phone calls that, according to Stephanie Valencia, his press secretary, "it would have placed for any other constituent." Of course, Corpas is anything but another constituent. Any other constituent hasn't held his opponents to a .224 batting average in the regular season, nor saved five postseason games in six opportunities. How many other constituents went 19-for20 in save situations?

"This whole year has surprised me," says Corpas between bites of his steak before Game 2, in which he surrendered an eight-inning single to Dustin Pedroia and induced a groundout from Kevin Youkilis in the Rockies 2-1 loss. "There were others in the bullpen with more experience. I really didn't think I'd be closing right away."

Nor did he think his father would be here to see it. The elder Corpas, who's never boarded a plane, couldn't provide proof of car ownership -- one of the forms the embassy asked for -- well, because he doesn't have a car. With Salazar's intervention, the red tape was lifted and once again, Corpas was surprised. "His eyes just welled up with tears," Quintero said about the moment he told his client.

Now those tears in his eyes have been replaced by joy in his voice. "Benny, comó se dice 'senador'", (How do you say senator in English) Corpas asks Quintero as they walk through a Boston mall. The closer is trying to explain to his English-speaking girlfriend, Amy, whose Spanish doesn't yet include civic terms, all that's happened to him. His eyes grow ever wider at all the arrangements Salazar's office has made for him -- a detail to help him through customs awaits. Talk of a limo to help around the expected press corps.

Quintero, however, won't be there to see it. When Manuel Corpas' plane touches the tarmac in Denver Friday night, Quintero will be in Leipsic, Ohio, before heading to Denver on Saturday. His own son, 11-year-old Larkin, has his very own football championship Friday night. And Quintero wouldn't miss it for the world.