Giants Bite Big Apple; Find Worm

Yuck.

After a series in Florida where it seemed the Giants had put it all together, they rolled into New York and stunk the joint up like a whino whose first bath in four weeks was in the gutter outside the local meat packing plant.

Some truisms entered here earlier in the season contnued to manifest themsleves: (1) the bullpen is the biggest detriment to Lincecum's Cy Young three-peat bid; (2) Sergio Romo can't be trusted any more than a canibal visiting Jeffrey Dahmer's house, (3) Jose Uribe may be able to hit but couldn't catch lint with a velcro glove, (4) Dan Runzler is only slightly more ready for the bigs than my cat, and (5) and the supposed "versitility" of the Giants line-up just means they can find more ways to screw up.

"What's our record, Larry?
Eight and sixteen.
Eight... and sixteen. How'd we ever win eight?
It's a miracle.
This... is a simple game. You throw the ball. You hit the ball. You catch the ball. "

Okay, so it's not exactly Crash Davis time for those clowns, but Max Patkin isn't far from making the roster. If the Giants bullpen allows one more weak-hitting catcher to rip one off the (expletive) bull to end a game, said pitcher needs to be put back on the bus for Single A. Whatta we gotta do to break the curse, cut the head off a live rooster? Maybe Susan Sarandon can point these guys in the right direction because right now they couldn't find "good' with aid from Garmin.

There were some highlights. Kudos for Jonathan Sanchez for being a true team player. With Wellemeyer's spot being skipped the last time through the rotation, the Giants neeeded someone to fill the "suck" void. He did so admirably. Of course, not to be outdone, our boy Wellemeyer made his return a memorable one by managing to out-suck his kindred spirit. Together these guys served to remind us how, even on his worst day, these two coudn't carry Timmy's solid gold jock (the rose goes in the front, big guy) with white gloves and a velvet pillow.

Funny how a team that said offense is irrelevant and portends to win with pitching and defense had such a hard time finding either. Hardly surprising when your starting left fielder is a second baseman, and his relief is another converted infielder and a career minor leaguer. Of course, that's the Sabean way. We could have gotten a quality ride, but why buy the Vette when the same price will get you a fleet of Civics? Yeah, you'll get great gas mileage but it's the guy in the Vette who's getting laid.

Speaking of which, Lincecum's luck is so bad he's must feel like the only guy who couldn't score at Plato's Retreat. By all rights this guy should be 7-0 and the odds-on favorite for post-season honors. Think about it, Timmy has never left a game tied or behind but in each of his last three starts the call to the bullpen has resulted in more devestation that the calamity brought by Mrs. O'Leary's cow. Has favorite whipping boy Medders so fundamentally fouled the waters that now his mere presence causes a meltdown? He doesn't even have to warm up. Just a shot of him in the dugout is enough to cause enemy hitters to began salivating.

Of course, it's not hard to improve your average when all that is required is to put the ball in play. Uribe found himself involved in four horrendous plays on Sunday, yet his exploits paled in comparison to the outfield shenanigans on the two balls hit by Jason Bay. How in the !#%% can a team that plays in San Francisco so totally disregard the wind? Torres breaks back on a ball hit to deep short on which Uribe gave up. Two innings later on a similar ball, Uribe runs Rowand off a makeable catch only to watch the sphere fall untouched. The result, two gift doubles for Bay and the need for me to collect a double of another kind (thank you Jack Daniel).

"This... is a simple game. You throw the ball. You hit the ball. You catch the ball. "

Unless you wear orange and black.

Praise be to the Mighty Brian Wilson, who was able, in fact to announce his presence with authority. At least someone figured out how to pitch to this, uh, defense. Sunday's effort was a five-out save on five strikeouts. The one ball hit in play was Bay's second wind-blown double. The defense can't hurt you if you make them eat their gloves -- which is about all they were good for this weekend.

So the Giants now come home for a showdown with the division-leading Padres -- a phrase that has me reaching for the bottle again. Zito on the hill Tuesday. Can he record 27 strikeouts? Let's hope so, because this group of heores doesn't presently seem capable of backing him up.

"Charlie, here comes the deuce. And when you speak of me, speak well."

Enjoying a Fish Fry in Florida

I'm gonna rip on these guys more often.

In my last post I blasted the Giants for blowing three straight opportunities to sweep -- a 6-3 homestand that should have ended in glorious celebration instead leaving me feeling like the guy who got to third base with his date only to have her father come bounding down the stairs. Oh, what might have been.

But the boys sealed the deal down in Miami. At times it wasn't pretty, but Joe Robbie Pro Player Dolphins Land Shark Sun Life Stadium has been a house of horrors for the Giants in recent years so I'll take wins there any way I can get them. By the way, has JT Snow rounded third yet?

Now I'm not egomaniacal enough to take credit for the turnaround. I simply point to the Giants' performance before an after the post and will allow the record to speak for itself.

Giants 9, Marlins 6 (F/12)
It occurs to me that the biggest obstacle standing between Tim Lincecum and his third consective Cy Young Award isn't enemy hitters, mediocre offense, threat of injury, or a bite from a radioactive spider (although that would be kinda cool). If Timmy fails to three-peat, he'll probably have the pen to blame.

For the second straight start, Lincecum left a game with a lead. And once again, it was bullpen meltdown time. The culprit: Sergio Romo, yep the same guy who robbed Zito of a win in LA with that same lousy pitch, a slider that didn't slide. If the bullpen had protected Lincecum's decisions in his past two starts, he would have been the first Giants pitcher to win his first six starts since Juan Marichal did the trick 1966. Instead he's 4-0 with a 1.70 ERA and 56Ks (walking just eight) in 42 1/3 innings, and we get to listen to the talking heads at the Everything Sox and Pinstripes Network fawning over Ubaldo Jimenez.

Kudos to the much-maligned Aaron Rowand. His heroics, both with the bat and the glove, were enough to grant him temporary amnesty from persecution should he show up in the clubhouse wearing tights and a cape. Honorable mention to Aubrey Huff, whose two-RBI hit in the 12th was as much mental as physical according to the Mercury News. Once in awhile Sabean's "veteran presence" crapola pays off, and I've now met my Sabean compliment quota for the season.

Of course, I can't just let that Sabean comment lie. When you lob one up to the net like that, expect it to get spiked. Can we talk about the vets that aren't paying dividends? Edgar Renteria can't get on the field, DeRosa shouldn't be allowed near the field, and Freddy Sanchez doesn't remember where the field is. Nice signings, eh?

Giants 3, Marlins 2
Okay, I'm a convert. Zito is back. Zito is good. Hearts and flowers, peace on earth, macaroni and cheese. Dorothy is back in Kansas and all is right with the world. Yes, he came close to meltdown in the eighth and given the inconsistency of the Giants pen I can see why Bochy stuck with him as long as he did. But having Zito, who in his first three years in Orange and Black was basically a 5-inning, 4.50 ERA pitcher, consitently pitching into the eighth inning is something that has to make Giants fans absolutely giddy.

What has made the difference? Is it the slider? Is he throwing his curve for strikes? Is it attitude? Personally, I think it's the socks. Really. I had a pair of lucky jockey shorts once and they still...nevermind.

Through his first three seasons Zito acted as though he'd be more comforrtable strumming his guitar at a coffehouse in Caimbridge than standing on the hill of thrills at AT&T Park. Okay, he's still goofy looking. But he's also takien on this kind of serial killer sneer that just screams "I'm bad, and you're going down."

I haven't decided if it's guts or lunacy that Bochy went back to Romo with the Marlins rallying. With more successful rocket launches under his belt than NASA this year, Romo's frisbee slider is starting to scare me more than a little. His reputation as a strike thrower means hitters are going up to the plate swinging -- and connecting when that slider flattens out. I've said it before, gimmick pitchers are a two-edged sword. When people stop falling for the deke, get ready to back up third because that relay might get away. Romo needs two things to go from "good' to "Oh, God, not that guy again:" consistent break on the slider, and another pitch to go with it.

Giants 6, Marlins 3
Highlight of the night was Nate Schierholtz launching one into the stratosphere. Finally, a Giants farmhand not nicknamed after an animated character who is threatening to become a contributing fixture on the ML roster. Any blast that has Jon Miller howling in semi-orgasmic glee is all right in my book.

Kudos to Matt Cain, who is finally getting some run support and has cancelled the standing reservation for his call to the suicide hotline. I swear this guy was one step away from razor blades and cycnide capsules after the Cardinals series. Am I the only person who is convinced his contract extension was a prememptive strike against an early "these clowns will forever screw me with my pants on so I might as well get out while I'm young" free agent diatribe?

I have to admit that I enjoy listening to the other team's announcers when they lose. After Rowand made yet another sliding catch, the Marlins play-by-play man was almost whining when he said "Does he do that every night?" Classic. As much as people, including myself, have banged on this guy, this was his series. He's the anti-Freddy Sanchez. This guy wants to play with three broken bones in his face, and Sanchez (who is fast turing into Ray Durham) keeps talking about how his rehab is ahead of schedule while maintaining a pace to play the same number of innings as Angelina Jolie.

I realize it's a small sample size, but with Downs playing as well as he has (and showing some power), Freddy better start looking over his shoulder. If he's healthy, he looks like trade bait to me.

Funniest moment of the night served to once again establish Bengie Molina as the slowst man in baseball, if not the slowest man on the planet. Molina's bouncer up the middle was backhanded by Dan Uggla, who noticably relaxed as he realized Bengie was, at that point, just beginning to consider whether it would be a good idea to think about taking off for an area somewhere in the general direction of first base. Uggla squared his shoulders, did a few stretching exercises, posed for photos, signed autographs, made at least two cell phone calls and finshed off a hot dog before lobbing a throw to first that beat Molina by 14 and a half  feet.

Bengie, I have two words for you: "Jenny Craig." Seriously, give Valerie Bertinelli a call and you might see the end of this year. I'm not expecting him to tun into Ussein Bolt,  but I also didn't expect him to show up for the season needing to have his uniform custom made by Ringling Bros. This guy has to do something or I've got two more words that should scare the bejeezus out of him: "Buster Posey." He's hitting .343 with a .436 OBP through 26 games at Fresno.

But the Giants ae winning so we can laugh (sort of) at Bengie. The record stands at 17-10 (and should be 20-7). Now it's off to New York, where the Giants will try to avoid that mean old Katie Kouric (hey, look what she did to Sarah Palin) and keep the streak going.

Leonard Nimoy goes "In Search of: A Killer Instinct"

You’d think that a 6-3 home stand against St. Louis, Philly and Colorado, with the Giants winning all three series, would be cause for joy. But this “accomplishment” is remarkably unsatisfying.

Three times the Giants had an opportunity to sweep, and in each case the Giants didn’t get beat so much as they lost. They were charitable in a United Way kind of fashion, adding once again to that list of games I fear they’ll be looking back at when the season concludes, muttering “if only…”

Twice the bats didn’t show, once the bullpen came unglued, and the fact is a 6-3 home stand should have been 7-2 and had the potential for a clean sweep. So you gotta wonder, does this team have the ability to put its foot on a team’s throat and close them out?

Thoughts from the Rockies series:

Barry Zito needs a nickname. I can’t get away with Barry Zero anymore, unless we’re talking about the zeroes he’s throwing at the opposition. Friday was his best outing to date. He didn’t have it in the first inning, but instead of the meltdown we’ve come to expect, he righted the ship and stated dealing.

His numbers would have been even more impressive had Molina, for the second straight game, found a way NOT to get his rather significant girth (a polite way off calling him a fat ass) in front of a blockable pitch, thus permitting a run to score. The Giants supposedly serve healthy food choices in the clubhouse now. Either Bengie is eating his portion and that of the entire bullpen, or he's making bonus stops at Yum Yum Donuts on his way to the park. You’re professional athlete, well, sort of. Treat your body like a temple, not a landfill.

Cain didn’t have to be perfect in Game Two, but he almost was. For once the team scored him some runs, and he didn’t disappoint. One hit over eight frames. The bullpen – namely the totally lame and over the hill Guillermo Mota, blew the goose egg -- but that just emphasized out out of this world Cain had been.

Thenonce again came, a chance to sweep. Instead, we found that Jonathan Sanchez continues to be his own worst enemy. Rallies for free kill you, especially when your “relief” is Brandon Medders. Ha, thought I’d forgotten about this hero, didn’t ya?

There are two mathematical equations I take as constant: The first is the obligatory E=MC2. Close behind is Medders+Inherited Runners=Disaster. When 1-0 becomes 4-0 in the span of two hitters, you can pretty much bet that Medders was involved. It’s not just that he looks like Shrek after lap band surgery, it’s that he stinks. Not in a “hey, I caught a whiff of something” way, but more like “somebody on the bus hasn’t showered in a week AND has a skunk in his pocket”.

We also saw the Rowand, three years into his deal, still can’t recognize a slider, that Velez still can’t hit, and that Bochy’s “I don’t give a rip” Sunday line-up will continue to be the norm.

A word to the ticket buying public: don’t waist your jack on Sunday games. Bochy is usually passing out unis in the parking lot. Play your cards right and you not only get in for free, you’ll sit on the bench. If someone is hot, you might even start in his place – how else to you explain Ishikawa getting the start over Huff?

Mike Krukow, whom I worship, made a comment that Bochy owed Ishikawa some at-bats. No he didn't. Ishi is getting paid. Bochy owed the fans who shelled out 80 clams to sit in the friggin' Club Level with the $10 beer and $7 two-scoop sundaes the best team he can put on the field. By the way, that team will NEVER include Eli Whiteside as the catcher.

So there it is, the worst 6-3 in Giants history. Back on the road, where they went a stellar 1-5 the last time out. Time to find out what these guys are really made of.