On Base: The Hipster’s Ball

Read Mission Local often?

Help grow our newsroom, joining the 3,250 readers who support us by giving below.

Donate today!

Pregame: Mission Creek

I had wanted to get to the Mission Creek ballpark early today to watch Tim Lincecum/The Freak warm up. Unlike any other player on this field, or probably any other in professional sport, The Freak warms up by hanging out. Either wearing a hoodie in the outfield or lollygagging outside the batting cage, he looks like a kid enchanted by his heroes. He’s not Everyman; he’s Everyman’s little brother.

I could not sneak out of work soon enough. And, since it was such a spectacular morning, I altered my route to pass by Mission Creek, to stop for a moment and watch the water flow by quickly but without hurry. The creek has always been a relief and a natural wonder in this neighborhood — when it was tidelands and mudflats, when it was an industrial wasteland, and even now as it’s changing again.

Inning One: Dolores Park Beckons

The Giants take the field to the sounds of Jim Morrison and the Doors singing  “Light My Fire.” Jim Morrison in Père-Lachaise, dead from an overdose, his music now used to hype professional sports.

Tim Lincecum, prototypical Mission hipster, throws a few freaky warm-up pitches, working at noon on the day after his 26th birthday, but some things can’t be helped. He started this home stand with a fine game against the A’s. I have a feeling he’s going to mow down the Orioles so fast I won’t have to worry about getting back to my cubicle before anybody realizes I’m gone. Leading off for Baltimore, light-hitting Corey Patterson. And the first — wait, hold on, The Freak has to tie his shoe. Just for an instant, tying his shoelace, I get the feeling he wishes he could be hanging out in Dolores Park. It passes.

First pitch a strike. Second pitch a strike, as are seven of the first eight. But of the next eight, five are balls, four consecutive, putting two runners on base. During the four-ball sequence, two curve balls, two fastballs, The Freak keeps looking at his shoes and the mound. He doesn’t look like the coolest guy in the park, but he gets out of the inning when Adam Jones pops to right.

Leading off for the Giants, Andres Torres draws a walk. What a difference when the leadoff batter gets on base! The Giants score two runs, but they waste two outs with poor base running. Freddy Sanchez gets thrown out at the plate, almost running down Torres in the process. On the next play, The Panda hits a single off the top of the wall in center (should have, at least could have, been caught), but mistakenly passes Juan Uribe, who had returned to first, thinking the ball would be caught.

Inning Two: The Dancer

Lincecum’s delivery, says Giant pitching coach Dave Righetti, appears to be one continuous movement, a “flow” — that is, his body flows through his delivery. It’s the fluidity of motion that Righetti thinks will keep The Freak from breaking down as many pitchers do. Tom Verducci, writing in Sports Illustrated, discusses the eccentric pitching style, calling attention to the flow, the torque of the body, the rotational power — key element to velocity — and the enormously long stride Lincecum takes in relation to his size. “I’m trying to get as much out of my body as possible, the pitcher told Verducci. “I’ve got to use my ankles, my legs, my hips, my back. . . .”

But maybe only a freak can critically evaluate another Freak. Last year SF Ballet star Damian Smith analyzed Lincecum’s pitching motion from the perspective of dance. Like Verducci, Smith remarked on the rotation of the torso leading to a “dramatic release.” And he noted the transfer of weight from one foot to another, together with extreme arm rotation. “And they say [ballet dancers] get into unnatural positions!”

Inning Four: Drama Over Dominance

Fans who came looking for Freak-like dominance find they have to settle for hipster-like dramatics. The first three Orioles hit singles, and it’s 2-1 with runners at first and third, no outs. I’ve been watching Lincecum trying to straighten himself out by torquing his body even more, changing the angle of his feet, fingering his belt buckle. Is Bengie Molina worried? He has a quick word with Lincecum and The Freak comes back to the mound to strike out the next three batters. In the fifth another run scores, tying the game, but somehow The Freak again bails out Lincecum before any more damage is done.

Inning Five: Some Problems Most Pitchers Don’t Have

Damian Smith did not hesitate to point out some problems The Freak might have had if he danced with the SF Ballet: The open mouth and lifted shoulders will never do, and the toes, OMG, “the flexed rather than pointed toes. Is he a pitcher or a parrot?”

Inning Six: Splish Splash

The last two innings have been very “stressful,” says a fan spilling her coke on me. Hits, walks, wild pitches? What next? After two long fly outs, ex-Oakland A Miguel Tejada drills a 90-mph fastball right back at Lincecum, who ducks, but the ball glances off his shoulder and he’s down. The ball kicks crazily back toward center, but Freddy Sanchez dives backwards, grabs it and throws out the slow-moving Tejada. Players and trainers hurry to The Freak, also known as The Franchise. He gets up on his own and walks off to an ovation — 111 pitches, 74 strikes. With The Freak finished for the day, the score tied, Giant relief pitchers on their way, Giant hitters will have to take over the game.

OK, says Aubrey Huff, working Jeremy Guthrie to a full count before he splash-hits a slider into the mouth of Mission Creek. Juan Uribe doesn’t wait quite as long. He hits the fifth pitch, another slider, into the left-field bleachers. 4-2 Giants.

Inning Seven: Can’t Get No Relief

As Saturday night’s game against the A’s demonstrated, no lead in the hands of the Giants’ relief pitching staff can be considered safe. Jeremy Affeldt throws 11 pitches and gives up a single to Luke Scott, who steals second as Adam Jones strikes out and scores when Julio Lugo hits a liner into right. Santiago Cassilla, now pitching, gets out of the inning without any more runs scored, but 4-3 Giants does not look good. It holds up, though, as Huff and Uribe unload again in the bottom of the eighth to preserve the Giants’ victory and Tim Lincecum’s seventh win.

Postgame: Back to Work

Nobody sees me as I slide back into my cubicle, so I think, very cool, until the boss comes by and tells me he saw me on television when he was watching the game in his office. (Yeah, he’s joking, but I can never be sure.) We compare notes. Winning five of six against the A’s and the Orioles can fool a team into thinking it’s better than it really is. The next time we see them at Mission Creek ballpark they will have six games against high-quality opposition: the Boston Red Sox and — the Los Angeles Dodgers.