The World Series pairing of the Red Sox and the Rockies is perfect in its symmetry. Until the Rockies came along, the Red Sox vied with the Cubs for the title of “Franchise Most Confused by Its Home Park.” In 1993, the Rockies grabbed the crown and never looked back — until now, when they finally found the key to winning in a bandbox. From the 1930s until the Red Sox began building up the grandstand behind home plate in 1982, Fenway Park’s combination of a tiny left field, short right field line, nonexistent foul territory, and a jet stream pointed at the outfield created an inflationary hitting environment. The park did the same thing to the Red Sox that Coors Field does to the Rockies, inflating hitters’ statistics and abusing and demoralizing pitchers. During the offensive heyday of the Ted Williams-centered postwar Red Sox teams, the club hit .301 AVG/.391 OBA/.455 SLG at home, but just .253/.342/.365 on the road. The pitching staffs, especially in the latter part of the 1950s were stronger than they looked on paper. The offenses lagged just a little behind, enough that the Red Sox failed to make a strong showing after 1950.

No one paid much attention to park effects back then, so the Red Sox, who were not run by exceptionally intelligent people until the 21st century, never quite cottoned to what was going on. They had other problems as well, most importantly owner Tom Yawkey’s adamant refusal to integrate until 1959 (and even then, not in a significant way for years more), a stance that cost the team a shot at generations of African-American talent. Still, the confusion engendered by the park played a part in the Sox wasting years on one-dimensional talents like Dick Stuart. It was only after the alterations to the grandstand eliminated the park’s prevailing wind that Fenway mellowed enough for the team to get a more accurate gauge on its capabilities.

In the coming days, much credit for the Rockies’ surprising showing this year will be given to their pitching staff, the best in team history. You will also hear a lot about the fabled humidor, which supposedly keeps the balls from losing moisture in the thin Colorado air and turning into tightly packed cannonballs. No doubt that played a part as well; while the park still puts a nice luster on the hitters’ performances, the pitchers are being abused less and showing more consistency for it. At times, Rockies pitchers have averaged more than two more runs allowed per game at home than they did on the road. Since the advent of the humidor in 2002, the gap has narrowed considerably and in 2005 temporarily ceased to exist. This year, the difference was just 0.19 — 4.73 runs allowed per game at home versus 4.54 on the road.

But more than the humidor, the key to the Rockies’ competitiveness has been patience. For just the second time in club history (the previous occasion was 2003), the Rockies have fielded a team that is willing to take ball four when it is offered. The ball club finished second in the National League in walks behind the Phillies and well ahead of the third-place Padres. Todd Helton drew 116, second in the league, and tied for the league lead in times on base. Brad Hawpe took 81 free passes, while Garret Atkins and Matt Holliday were in the 60s.

In a hitters’ park, patience is not a virtue; it’s a skill necessary for survival. The air in Colorado does not discriminate. It amps all hitters, not just Rockies. Assuming average pitching on both sides, in a typical game the Rockies are going to hit a home run and so are the visitors. It’s not the big fly that’s special; it’s how many runners are on base when it goes out. If the Rockies draw more walks than their opponents — and they drew 118 more this season — their chances of hitting a two- or three-run homer are greatly increased. The Rockies had above-average pitching this year, which meant that their chances of hitting a home run at home were fractionally better than that of their opponents. Even better, patience doesn’t change with altitude. The Rockies didn’t hit as well on the road as they did at home, but they remained selective, helping to mitigate the falloff.

Win or lose the World Series, the Rockies can lay claim to bragging rights: It took the Red Sox more than 50 years to figure out their ballpark. The Rockies licked theirs in under 15.

Mr. Goldman writes the Pinstriped Bible for yesnetwork.com.