Pregame: The Big Orange Machine
As Ernest Lawrence Thayer observes acidly in his 1888 poem “Casey at the Bat” (first published in the SF Examiner), baseball is a game of failure, at times epic failure. Especially true for hitters; if you can’t deal with failure, you’ll never have to worry about success.
The Giants’ (first) renaissance this season has been due more to hitting than to pitching, according to obsessivegiantscompulsive. Even though everyone knows the Giants “need a bat,” I go with “obsessive” not because I’ve done the math, but because I’ve watched the games. Still, I find it hard to believe. But as I watch Edgar Renteria gracefully hit line drives to the wall and Juan Uribe launch rockets into the bleachers, it dawns on me that Giants’ hitters have become intelligent hitters, and that’s a step in the right direction.
Inning One: The Weight of History
Before the game, Matt Cain acknowledges he’s got to bring his best game to the mound tonight because he’s up against Josh Johnson, currently the best pitcher in the National League. Johnson hasn’t given up more than two runs in his last 13 games. He could tie the record if he holds the Giants to two or less tonight, so Cain doesn’t have much room for mistakes. In the first inning he takes only eight pitches to retire the side.
Inning Two: Now You See It, Now You Don’t
Last year, when he was hitting .330 and booming home runs into Mission Creek, Pablo Sandoval, the Panda, explained his success: “I see the white ball, and I hit it.’’
In his book “The Psychology of Baseball,” Mike Stadler explains that when pitches are coming at you at 90 mph, it’s impossible to see the ball’s entire journey from mound to home, especially at the end. On top of that, the hitter has less than two seconds to react to whatever he can see coming out of the pitcher’s hand. If the hitter hasn’t begun his swing when the ball is halfway home, he’s too late.
Inning Three: “Hitting is Timing”
The great Milwaukee Braves’ pitcher Warren Spahn once said, “Pitching is upsetting timing.” The most effective way to upset a hitter’s timing is to throw a variety of pitches and make the hitter wonder what’s coming next. Cain is doing exactly that.
At 6’7”, 250 pounds, Johnson begins his pitching motion slowly, gradually picking up speed. Then his arm whips around and down, creating a force like dammed waters suddenly freed. He hurls the baseball and sweeps hitters away from the plate.
Andres Torres will not be intimidated. He waits for his pitch and connects for a double. A Sanchez fly to right pushes Torres to third, and Aubrey Huff then lines another double down the left-field line, scoring Torres. Johnson got Buster Posey on a slider in the first inning, but this time Posey makes contact, dropping the ball into the shallow right-center, just off the glove of a diving Mike Stanton. Huff scores.
Inning Five: Some Changeups Never Change
A good fastball pitcher like Cain or Johnson usually develops a curveball or an off-speed pitch to fool the batter. A changeup, for example, starts out looking like a fastball, but moves much slower and dies at the end. For hitters expecting a ball traveling fast, a good changeup will look like a big fat grapefruit before it slips away. But if a changeup doesn’t change, you can kiss the ball goodbye. Cody Ross ties the game at two.
Never mind that the game is tied. And never mind that Johnson gets Renteria and Cain out on meaningless fly balls. Torres is up, finds the pitch he wants, and slices it down the right-field line for another double! Freddy Sanchez, rekindling the relationship he had with the leadoff hitter in June, singles to right, scoring Torres and giving the lead back to the Giants.
Inning Seven: A Thinking Man’s Game
According to no less an authority than Ted Williams, “proper thinking” makes up 50 percent of effective hitting. There is only one way a hitter can predict where and when the ball will cross the plate: by guessing. Although mixing thought with hitting is considered anathema to most practitioners, Williams was adamant that a hitter had to have an idea, an educated guess about what to expect. In the top of the seventh, Cain throws Dan Uggla a mix of pitches, getting him to swing and miss on a changeup and watch a fastball go by for a strike. With the count two balls and two strikes, Uggla guesses correctly that Cain will throw a fastball, and ties the game at three with a solo shot to center.
Inning Eight: Moonrise Power
Brian Sanches, replacing Johnson, throws three slow breaking balls to Uribe. As a pale orange moon rises silently over the 421 marker in straightaway center, Sanches throws a fastball and Uribe cracks it over the 382 marker in left-center. Aaron Rowand continues to show signs of life after near death by singling a fastball to left.
Renteria steps up. Last night he struck out to end the game. A fastball by Sanches just misses for a ball. He comes back with the identical pitch, and Renteria blasts it into left field for two more runs. “Just looking fastball,” Renteria said, “just trying to put the ball in play.”
Inning Nine: Curtain Call
Out comes Brian Wilson, mischievous grin and neon-bright orange shoes. First two guys go down quickly, but just to keep things interesting, Uggla hits another solo home run. How close will Brian step to the edge this time? Wes Helms’ second strike brings the crowd to its feet, imploring Wilson to finish him off. Wilson fires and misses. Two more misses and another full count. I say a fastball. Helms thinks so too. He swings, missing Wilson’s slider completely.
Giants 6, Marlins 4. Next game today at 4:05 p.m.