Listening to the Giants and walking through the Mission District, where the team first played.
Game One: Giants 1, Diamondbacks 0
Hours before Snakes slithered out of Mission Creek, President Obama gave a major speech calling for comprehensive immigration reform, a prospect that holds as much promise as a winning homestand in May.
When not parsing the President’s speech, watching the basketball playoffs, or getting drunk arguing about how much drinking really does go down in the Mission, you may have noticed a familiar tingle of uncertainty in the air as “your” San Francisco Giants, Fantastiks of the one-run ball game, reprised their late 2010 performance.
It all begins with the pitching, and during this series against Arizona, Giants’ pitching took center stage with Tim Lincecum once again the diva.
As I walk past Dirty Thieves, in a parallel universe Tim’s “command” verges on the ethereal: a ball breaking in ways a ball never dreamed of breaking before Timmy got his hand on it; sailing beyond the boundaries of gravity, leaving batters hopelessly capsized in the wake of his changeup.
William E. on 24th Street affirms. “That long-haired dude’s from another planet.” I mention the wonder of Timmy’s outing, and how fortunate we are to be here at this time and space to witness it. He thinks his wife’s got the hots for Lincecum. “Seriously.”
Moonlight brings Brian Wilson back to the razor’s edge; listening to him throw to Miguel Montero, I see the Taliban throwing IEDs at David Petraeus.
In the bottom of the ninth inning of a scoreless game, Cody Ross continues his personal resurrection, doubling home the only run needed.
Game Two: Giants 4, Diamondbacks 3
Obama could learn from the Giants: If you want to win, you have to do the little things. In Obama’s case, that includes using existing executive authority to take action on issues such as expediting visas and focusing deportation efforts on criminal apprehension rather than using local police and jails for generalized immigration enforcement and detention (the absurdly named “Secure Communities” program, or “S Comm”).
Walking east on 22nd past the Revolution, I tell myself that for the Giants, doing the little things means making great defensive plays while not flubbing routine ones, not leaving a fat pitch over the middle of the plate when you’ve got two strikes on a batter, laying down bunts, hitting key singles, drawing walks.
Tonight, the Giants follow this script, most of all Miguel Tejada, from whom the little things have been fleeing all season long. His single lands the Giants on the scoreboard, but his fielding, often less than scintillating, excels.
As I turn north on Shotwell past a row of restored Victorians, Aubrey Huff hits a home run! I listen for cheers to break the night’s silence. Anybody?
OK, how about a cheer for the return of Mission fave Andres Vungo Torres to the top of the lineup? The best leadoff hitter is a guy who gets on base, and once on base, threatens to steal. With all due respect to Aaron Rowand, who has done more than a credible job (at times) replacing Torres, he’s not that kind of guy. Andres Torres, back from injury, is. And his double in the sixth drives Tejada home for the winning run.
Torres also grabs Kelly Johnson’s ominous fly ball to end the game after the Rattlers put two on base with no one out in the top of the ninth — another Brian Wilson production. An ad for Coors Light taps me on the shoulder: “Torture was worth it!” Oh yeah?
Game Three: Giants 3, Diamondbacks 2
By resisting pressure to move the venue of this year’s All-Star Game from Phoenix, the MLB effectively sided with Arizona’s most poisonous reptiles. Rather than use its economic muscle to bring reason and reform to the table, this spring MLB held classes to teach Latino players, criminal suspects, how to talk to the cops, in English, when they’re stopped.
Another stunning, electric day in the Mission, one of those days when you can either bundle up in layers or run around in shorts and a T-shirt. No signs of boycott — or a game. 24th Street goes about its business — cleaning, cooking, arranging, piling, eating, talking, loading, unloading — missing Matt Cain’s shaky start, not recognizing Cody Ross and Nate Schierholtz for producing the first Giant run, not settling down enough to watch Cain settle down to pitch 7-2/3 scoreless innings.
“I thought the game was tonight,” says Rosario. Do I want to know his opinion of the Giants? “Double bubble.” Which means, “They’re going to win it all again this year.” He’s Puerto Rican, and praises all things from “the Island”: the rum, the women, the beaches and Andres Torres, who only has one hit today, but a good one, knocking home Eli Whiteside, then scoring the winning run himself on a single by Aubrey Huff.
The Diamondbacks make it close, scoring two runs on a two-out rally in the eighth. And in the ninth inning, over beers and bourbon at the Double Play, they threaten to strike again. But with the afternoon winds blowing across the ghostly ball fields above the old Home Plate Mine, and a bullpen on its own magnificent mission, Javier Lopez strikes out the last two Serpents, driving them from our midst.
Although rumors persist that Latino All-Stars may boycott the game, with Arizona’s draconian law blocked in court, the MLB probably thinks it dodged a bullet. Unfortunately, other retrograde legislatures have proposed or passed copycat measures. Baseball has become a global industry. How the MLB reacts to local reactionaries will determine its ability to attract foreign players in the short term, and in the long term, it’s survival.
The Giants can rely on excellent pitching for success; the president can’t. A swell speech works no better than an infield popup with bases loaded. Hits score runs; actions win elections. So far this president leads the league in nothing but deportations and cool promises.
But as in baseball, so in politics, timing is everything. And this is not the time.