Earlier this Migraine: The Empire Strikes Back
Like a drone attack, the current losing streak pulverizing Your SF Giants came out of nowhere. In Parts I-III of our midsummer’s blockbuster migraine, the Empire adds to the loss column with stunning efficiency and advanced weaponry. Shocked and awed, Bruce Bochy’s Baseball Biotech Lab concocts no fewer than three runs in three games. When told that would not be enough, Bochy stoically agreed to make “adjustments.” In Part IV, seagulls, symbolizing both death and rebirth, arrive early, ghoulishly hoping to dine on Giant carrion along with the crumbs you leave from your Cha-Cha Bowl on the banks of Mission Creek.
Left Bank Café
“You’re such a leftist,” said my wife, interrupting my Sunday morning New York Times rant. On my way to the ballpark, I figure she’s right, so I find a seat in Far Left: View Deck, Section 335, next to Angela Diaz from Sacramento. She and her husband paid $77 each. With food, drink, gas and parking, the day will cost in excess of $250. It’s the first time she’s been to the ballpark. Later she confides in me that you can see the game much better on television. I console her the best I can, using Sartre as an example of someone who struggled with similar existential issues.
But she’s too distracted by the little kid with the long hair. Yes, that would be Tim Lincecum, whose personal angst fits perfectly with a City perpetually on edge. He recently got the best of Philz manager Charlie Manuel in a media talk throwdown, and this afternoon he manages to best the Philz hitters. He’s got his Freak face on, and though he’s not flawless, he’s fine. His changeup? “Pretty filthy,” says catcher Chris Stewart. From Far Left, you can’t appreciate Stewart’s linguistic accuracy, but the Philz can; they score one stinking run. But is that one too many?
If not as offensive, the Giants’ offense today may have been even more frustrating than over the last three games. Every time opportunity knocked, they closed the door. Twice, with bases loaded and one out, they came up with a scheme that allowed them to score only one run. All told, Your SF Giants collected 13 hits but left 22 runners on base, barely figuring out how to push three runs across the plate.
The Times That Try Mens’ Souls
The fog began to break up, and sun shone for the first time on the banks of Mission Creek as Brian Wilson finished mopping up the weekend’s festivities with uncustomary élan. Fans left as placidly as they had remained throughout the series. Either GiantsInc has added something to the beer, or Giants fans proved that they can tolerate another team’s potency so long as it’s not the playoffs.
Your SF Giants are in the midst of a serious skid in their schedule. This is the dreaded “adversity” that all teams hate but championship teams love. Whether Lincecum stanched the adversity, or merely postponed it, remains to be seen. Their season will hang on how they respond.
Tonight the Pirates.