Rockies’ Legendary Duo Seize the Spotlight—Statues, Fame, and Festivities Await

Max Sterling, 1/25/2026Rockies honor legends Larry Walker, Todd Helton with statues, celebrations, and enduring community pride.

Perhaps the word “subtle” has never belonged anywhere near baseball’s brand of hero worship. Immortality here rarely does its work in whispers. It wants grandeur, spectacle—heroes set forever in poses that outlast box scores and highlight reels. The Rockies are, by legacy standards, still new blood in the league. Yet, even a club that hasn’t exactly spent its autumns basking in World Series afterglow understands the power packed into a monument. Statues, after all, are how a team declares: Here are our legends. We matter too.

Larry Walker’s journey before Colorado is practically vintage—a kid from British Columbia lighting up Montreal, then raising eyebrows with a .313 career average that still causes statisticians to salivate. But the altitude seemed to unlock something wild. In a purple jersey, Walker hit .334/.426/.618, launched 258 homers in Colorado, and practically needed a new room for all those Gold Gloves, batting titles, and the 1997 MVP hardware. His bat moved with the easy elegance of fall aspens in the Rockies—though, truth be told, maybe there’s never been a more charismatic ambassador for big-league baseball north or south of the border.

Todd Helton, meanwhile, is stitched into the franchise fabric. A lifer. He rolled straight out of Tennessee in ’95—one parallel universe away from backing up Peyton Manning—and landed with the Rockies in ’97. And then, essentially, never left. For 17 seasons, Helton’s presence at first was as much a fixture as the distant view of the mountains over the outfield. Five All-Star spots. Four Silver Slugger nods. Three Gold Gloves. The 369 home runs, and a 2000 campaign that even Greeks would call “epic”—.372 average, 42 homers, 147 runs driven in. You could argue the baseball gods made him wait for Cooperstown just so Colorado fans could have a few more years to rehearse his highlights before the big induction finally arrived in 2023.

Most franchises would go big or go generic on the sculptor front, but the Rockies kept it local, tapping George and Mark Lundeen from just up the road in Longmont. If you’ve strolled through Front Range parks or public squares, chances are you’ve come across one of their statues—never just static depictions, but moments frozen just before they breathe again. The message is clear. This isn’t a drive-by tribute. It’s an embrace of community, history, and, if we’re being honest, a bit of old-school Colorado pride.

Take note: Walker’s statue is scheduled to debut on August 23, 2026; Helton’s gets its own moment on September 19. Early birds will score replica statues—15,000 at each game. Expect desks, dens, and probably more than a handful of DIY trophy shelves across Colorado to find new centerpieces.

As for what those unveiling parties will look like? Details are still under wraps—classic baseball secrecy, keeping everyone on their toes. If the past is any guide, though, expect a spectacle. These are likely to unfold with the full theater usually reserved for Opening Day, sprinkled with a heavy dose of purple nostalgia and a fanbase that knows how to turn out for its heroes. The present-day Rockies brass—Paul DePodesta, Josh Byrnes, with Warren Schaeffer plotting the team’s future from the dugout—seem intent on rooting the franchise’s next moves in the storytelling that built the place piece by piece.

In a game obsessed with advanced metrics, WAR, and spin rates, moments like these challenge fans to remember that sometimes it’s about more than numbers. Bronze won’t swing a bat or flash leather, but it’ll outlast stat sheets and remind new generations who set the tone back in the day. Think of Walker’s mischievous smirk, Helton’s steely quiet, those late August nights when hope felt as endless as the outfield sky over 20th and Blake.

Really, these aren’t just victory laps for a team without a championship banner—yet. More a claim staked in the future: This is who the Rockies are. These are their stories, their myths, now set in bronze for the coming seasons and, hopefully, for a fanbase still waiting to write the next chapter. When 2026 rolls around and those statues finally stand tall in the sun, it’ll be more than just a nod to the past. It’ll be a welcome—an invitation to all, young and old, to find themselves somewhere in the shadow of Colorado’s new legends.

On a chilly Colorado morning, long before the first pitch of the 2025 season has even been thrown, the hum of Rockies Fest drifted through the air—part nostalgia, part anticipation, and, as always, unmistakably laced with the cheers and chatter of diehards in purple. It’s the sort of scene where the smell of popcorn mingles with the sharp sweetness of memory, and just when everyone’s thinking it’s going to be another run of autographs and selfie stations, the Rockies decide to play a different game: Out comes the announcement—statues of Larry Walker and Todd Helton, forever immortalized in bronze outside Coors Field, set to join baseball’s hallowed cast of legends in 2026.Perhaps the word “subtle” has never belonged anywhere near baseball’s brand of hero worship. Immortality here rarely does its work in whispers. It wants grandeur, spectacle—heroes set forever in poses that outlast box scores and highlight reels. The Rockies are, by legacy standards, still new blood in the league. Yet, even a club that hasn’t exactly spent its autumns basking in World Series afterglow understands the power packed into a monument. Statues, after all, are how a team declares: Here are our legends. We matter too.Larry Walker’s journey before Colorado is practically vintage—a kid from British Columbia lighting up Montreal, then raising eyebrows with a .313 career average that still causes statisticians to salivate. But the altitude seemed to unlock something wild. In a purple jersey, Walker hit .334/.426/.618, launched 258 homers in Colorado, and practically needed a new room for all those Gold Gloves, batting titles, and the 1997 MVP hardware. His bat moved with the easy elegance of fall aspens in the Rockies—though, truth be told, maybe there’s never been a more charismatic ambassador for big-league baseball north or south of the border.Todd Helton, meanwhile, is stitched into the franchise fabric. A lifer. He rolled straight out of Tennessee in ’95—one parallel universe away from backing up Peyton Manning—and landed with the Rockies in ’97. And then, essentially, never left. For 17 seasons, Helton’s presence at first was as much a fixture as the distant view of the mountains over the outfield. Five All-Star spots. Four Silver Slugger nods. Three Gold Gloves. The 369 home runs, and a 2000 campaign that even Greeks would call “epic”—.372 average, 42 homers, 147 runs driven in. You could argue the baseball gods made him wait for Cooperstown just so Colorado fans could have a few more years to rehearse his highlights before the big induction finally arrived in 2023.Most franchises would go big or go generic on the sculptor front, but the Rockies kept it local, tapping George and Mark Lundeen from just up the road in Longmont. If you’ve strolled through Front Range parks or public squares, chances are you’ve come across one of their statues—never just static depictions, but moments frozen just before they breathe again. The message is clear. This isn’t a drive-by tribute. It’s an embrace of community, history, and, if we’re being honest, a bit of old-school Colorado pride.Take note: Walker’s statue is scheduled to debut on August 23, 2026; Helton’s gets its own moment on September 19. Early birds will score replica statues—15,000 at each game. Expect desks, dens, and probably more than a handful of DIY trophy shelves across Colorado to find new centerpieces.As for what those unveiling parties will look like? Details are still under wraps—classic baseball secrecy, keeping everyone on their toes. If the past is any guide, though, expect a spectacle. These are likely to unfold with the full theater usually reserved for Opening Day, sprinkled with a heavy dose of purple nostalgia and a fanbase that knows how to turn out for its heroes. The present-day Rockies brass—Paul DePodesta, Josh Byrnes, with Warren Schaeffer plotting the team’s future from the dugout—seem intent on rooting the franchise’s next moves in the storytelling that built the place piece by piece.In a game obsessed with advanced metrics, WAR, and spin rates, moments like these challenge fans to remember that sometimes it’s about more than numbers. Bronze won’t swing a bat or flash leather, but it’ll outlast stat sheets and remind new generations who set the tone back in the day. Think of Walker’s mischievous smirk, Helton’s steely quiet, those late August nights when hope felt as endless as the outfield sky over 20th and Blake.Really, these aren’t just victory laps for a team without a championship banner—yet. More a claim staked in the future: This is who the Rockies are. These are their stories, their myths, now set in bronze for the coming seasons and, hopefully, for a fanbase still waiting to write the next chapter. When 2026 rolls around and those statues finally stand tall in the sun, it’ll be more than just a nod to the past. It’ll be a welcome—an invitation to all, young and old, to find themselves somewhere in the shadow of Colorado’s new legends.