On Saturday Night, SF Giants Were One and Done

Celebration!
Celebration!

The San Francisco media began its “magic number” countdown about a week ago — the magic number being the number of wins required to clinch a playoff spot, regardless how well/poorly the runner-up team (i.e. the LA Dodgers) performs.  By Thursday morning, the San Francisco Giants’ magic number was five.

Because I had tickets to both Saturday’s and Sunday’s games against the San Diego Padres, I did more math than is advisable for a history major, trying to pinpoint the likelihood I’d be at AT&T Park to see the Giants win the National League West.  It’s not really about statistical probability, of course.  Barring some kind of Red Sox-style collapse, it was only a matter of time before they clinched.  But how MUCH time would depend on how much torture the baseball gods chose to inflict.

The gods were merciful, and the Giants beat the Padres handily on Saturday night to win the division.  Nervous energy hung in the air like the Bay Area marine layer, but the team played like vets who had been there before.  No torture necessary.

When Angel Pagan caught Mark Kotsay’s pop up to end the game, the place went insane.  It’s hard to describe the electricity and elation in such an enormous venue, where everyone is pulling for the same thing (or, “on the same rope” as Zen master/GM Brian Sabean likes to say). Everywhere you looked, fans were smiling, high-fiving and hugging, and no one was rushing for the exits to beat the traffic.  I stuck around until Giants’ president and CEO Larry Baer got hold of the microphone, and began his shameless plug for playoff merchandise.

The fact that starters – including my particular favorite, Tim Lincecum – didn’t play on Sunday was a bit of a disappointment, although no one could begrudge them their day off.  It gave the rookies some valuable playing time.  It also allowed people like me, who have been laser-focused on the playoffs, to just relax in the stellar weather, unclench our jaws, put down our cameras…. and enjoy the game.

 

And Then, There Were Three…

Pablo's three-run homer
Pablo’s three-run homer

Regular season baseball is winding down. If your team is out of contention, like the Cleveland Indians are, attendance is tapering off. My parents were at Progressive Field today, and the place was at least 2/3 empty. That makes me sad because Cleveland is such a great sports-loving town. Maybe next year will finally be the Tribe’s year.

Meanwhile on the west coast, the San Francisco Giants are three wins away from capturing the NL West. That is, three strikes and the Dodgers are OOUUUUT!

The magic number is particularly important to me. I have tickets to both Saturday’s and Sunday’s games against the San Diego Padres, and I want to be at AT&T Park to see the Giants clinch the division. The math has gotten ridiculously simple — the odds of at least attending a game where clinching is a possibility are clearly in my favor.

Pray for me?

I went to the game on Wednesday night. Matt Cain may not have been perfect, but he was awesome. In fact, thanks to my unwavering confidence in Matty and the Giants’ six-run lead, I headed home after the 7th inning stretch (my first early departure of 2012) to thaw out my extremities. It was the coldest game I’ve been to all season.

 

A Win-Win Weekend For The San Francisco Giants

Buster Posey

It was a great weekend for San Francisco Giants baseball.  We didn’t sweep the L.A. Dodgers, but we took the series putting us 5 1/2 games out in front in the National League West.  Toward the end of Sunday’s shut-out, one of ESPN’s announcers speculated that the Dodgers now probably have a better shot at capturing a wild card spot than of winning the NL West.  Music to my ears.

I caught the first game of the series, going back on my solemn promise never to attend another Friday night Giants/Dodgers match-up, after several near-death experiences in past seasons.  I even sat near the visitor’s dugout, and while the inmates were restless… I survived without ever throwing a punch.

Four hecklers behind me were tossed pretty early on.  They were annoying, because two were Giants fans and two were Dodgers fans.  So it was nonstop screaming no matter which team was at bat.  These guys were particularly fond of the F-bomb — but apparently the police officers positioned nearby were not.

As I was leaving AT&T Park after the Giants’ 5-2 victory, the gentleman next to me summed it up nicely.  “WOW, what a game!  I have a feeling every game will be a dog fight like this one from here on out.”

I say, bring it!

I ended the night with more than 1,500 shots.  Here are some of the best, if I do say so myself.  Next up for me and my Canon… September 17 vs. the Colorado Rockies.

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1,281 Reasons My Arm Hurts

Barry Zito
Barry Zito

Buster Posey called Monday’s extra-innings victory over the Arizona Diamondbacks possibly the best San Francisco Giants win of the season. Fitting that it happened on Labor Day because it was, at times, pretty laborious. The sixth inning in particular, when Barry Zito blew a four-run lead, felt like breaking rocks.

Of course, the Giants’ comeback starting in the eight inning — and punctuated by a Posey-Scutaro one-two punch in the 10th — was made sweeter because so many fans bailed in the seventh to beat the traffic, L.A. Dodger-fan style.

Not me.  As my southern Baptist relatives would say… Oh, ye of little faith.

Knowing that the Dodgers had probably watched the Giants struggle, and smirked and puffed up as they imagined themselves closing in on first place in the NL West… well, that was pretty enjoyable too.

I took a record-high 1,281 photos at the game.  I could blame a digital camera that shoots eight frames-per-second.  But instead, I blame Zito and the Giants’ shaky band of middle relievers.  After Barry got the hook, it took six of them — Mota, Kontos, Loux, Penny, Machi (who did great, going 1-2-3 in his first inning in the big leagues) and Romo — to finish off the Diamondbacks.

Of course, as is my custom, I had to photograph them all.  My forearm ached from holding my camera, and pushing down on the shutter-release button for hours.

Whatever.  I rubbed some dirt on it.  It was totally worth it.

The Melky Way

Melky Cabrera

He led the offense with his hitting
Yet all the while he was committing
A violation, now he’s sitting
A 50-game suspension.

Melkmen and Melkmaids they embraced him
Opposing pitchers feared to face him
Now his juicing has disgraced him
A stupid indiscretion.

Today a baseball gloom descended
We Giants fans have been upended
We wonder, has the season ended?
The million-dollar question.

Sunday’s Rocky Road

Sunday’s San Francisco Giants game against the Colorado Rockies was a bit of a nail biter.  On one of the most beautiful Bay Area Sundays we’ve had in some time, fans enjoyed a somewhat explosive first inning… followed by six innings of sleepy offense.

Barry Zito was… Barry.  He blew a 3-0 lead in the first inning, and with the help of George Kontos and Clay Hensley the Giants were losing 6-4 by the start of the eighth.

Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled with Zito’s improvement this season. I could be a twitter hater — wringing my hands and gnashing my teeth about the size of his contract.  But you know what?  It’s a sunk cost.  Why not just be satisfied when Barry gets a win, even if it’s largely thanks to Hunter Pence?  Even better, let’s celebrate when he actually does well. Why the hell not?  It’s better than the alternative!

That said, I love this revisionist quote from Barry after his shaky game. It was like the kid who takes a face plant off his bike, and tells everyone who rushes to his aid, “Oh don’t worry, I MEANT to do that.”

“We needed something like that.  We’ve had a lot of wins by sizable margins and lost some tough ones in-between there. Having come-from-behind wins is important going down the stretch.”

So you think we needed that, Barry?  Did we really?  My cardiologist says no.

After all that torture, the Giants won 9-6 thanks to a three-run homer by newly acquired Hunter Pence.  So far, I like that trade.

I was again in Larry Baer territory with my trusty Canon.  A few of the keepers:

Marco Scutaro
Marco Scutaro
Barry Zito and Ryan Theriot
Barry Zito and Ryan Theriot

I love this photo because it looks like these two guys are holding hands. Like maybe Giants’ veteran Zito is looking out for relatively-new-to-San-Francisco Theriot.  Taking him under his wing.  “Listen little buddy, nobody here calls it ‘Frisco’.  I’m just saying.”

Buster Posey takes one for the team
Buster Posey takes one for the team. Buster was BLEEDING!
Barry Zito
Barry Zito, looking fine for a guy who just blew a three-run lead.
Melky!
Melky!
Angel Pagan
Angel Pagan
Angel is all smiles after stealing third.
Angel is all smiles after stealing third.
Lou Seal makes his move.
Lou Seal makes his move. He appreciates maturity, and I can respect that.
Javier Lopez
Javier Lopez. Adjectives elude me.
Barry Zito
Barry Zito
Classic Zito
Uh-oh
George Kontos
George Kontos. Eye candy, but not his finest hour.
Hunter Pence
Hunter Pence crosses home plate after his three-run homer. He looks sorta happy!

The San Francisco Giants Mean No Offense…

I’ve gone to a LOT of San Francisco Giants games at AT&T Park, often sitting in a seat near the dugout so that I could take hundreds of photos of whoever was on the mound.   It’s fun with a fast shutter speed, because when you race through the photos later it’s like looking at a cartoon flip book.

There are only so many pitches you can photograph at 8 frames per second before they start to look redundant, though.  Eventually it’s helpful when OTHER THINGS happen in the game that I can take photos of, like the scary collision between Tim Lincecum and Collin Cowgill at home plate in May.

Unfortunately, aside from Ryan Vogelsong’s solid outing, there was precious little to photograph during Sunday’s 4-0 loss to the Los Angeles Dodgers.  I don’t think a Giant ever even made it over to third base, where I could snap him in a confab with third base coach Tim Flannery.  A few made it to second, but my lens is a 28-300 which means photos from that distance are kind of ho-hum.

I was close enough, however, to see Buster Posey get stranded on base (again) early in the game.  I can’t be sure, but I think he may have rolled his eyes before jogging back to the dugout after the third out.  Seemed a little un-Posey like… but I know what I saw.

Listen up guys; I have tickets to four more Giants games this season.  I’m not buying any more until I start to see some offense.  I have already spent so much time photographing Giants’ pitchers, I could land a gig as a bullpen coach in the minors.

In the meantime, I’ll have to be satisfied with these shots of Vogey pitching to bad-bunter Clayton Kershaw (who does some kind of sun salutation stretch before every pitch) and of various Giants returning to the dugout scoreless, with their heads hanging low.  Pretty much sums up the game, really.

 

Get the Picture?

Tim Lincecum
Tim Lincecum

I played hooky on Wednesday afternoon. Can you call it hooky if you tell your boss in advance that you’ll be out of the office, and you use 1/2 of a vacation day to do it?

Well, even though I did it all by-the-book, it still felt decadent.  I had a blast. I was ITCHING to take in a San Francisco Giants game and shoot some photos — especially of Tim Lincecum since he seemed back on track after the All-Star break.

Yes, I have a soft spot for the guy.  He’s so much fun to photograph. Nobody has a pitching motion like his — certainly not cute, chubby-chubster bullpen guy Brad Penny, who I had never photographed before. Ditto for reliever George Kontos, who is not chubby.  He’s just relatively new to the team… so we were not yet acquainted with one another.

While the game was rather lackluster, and Timmy struggled despite his eight strikeouts, the weather was stunning and my seat was very good for photo taking.  It was my first time in section 125, thanks to StubHub.

It wasn’t Larry Baer territory, where I’ve taken so many photos I’m proud of.  At times I wanted to thump the third base coach on the back of his big head for obstructing my view of the mound, but I restrained myself. (That would be the PADRES third-base coach — not sweet Tim Flannery, who can stand wherever he likes as far as I am concerned.)

I’ll be back at AT&T Park on Sunday, when the Giants take on the Dodgers. Ryan Vogelsong is pitching, and I’m hoping to get some great shots of him too.  I’ll be sitting near the visitors’ dugout — another brand-new vantage point for me.

Where is your favorite place to take photos at the ballpark?

 

This Is a Team Timmy Zone. Proceed With Caution.

Tim LincecumI just spent a grand total of 15 minutes – time I will never get back – watching the 2012 Home Run Derby.  Why do I do this to myself every baseball season?  The Home Run Derby has to be one of the most boring spectacles on earth.  It might be more fun to watch hitters knock baseballs out of the park, if they weren’t practically tossed underhand with momentum that even Barry Zito would scoff at.  Ooh!  Ah!

What’s more, when I switched on my TV, Andrew McCutchen  — Lincecum slayer — was batting.   This was not a positive development.  I guess you could say I’m a little bitter about the San Francisco Giants’ 13-2 loss to the Pittsburg Pirates on Sunday.

Tim Lincecum’s post-game interview was heartbreaking.  I obviously have a soft spot for the guy — and listening to him whisper his pain and frustration, while his chin practically trembled, tore me up.   He wondered if he’d reached “rock bottom”, and talked about being the Giants’ weak link, disappointing his teammates, and having “nothing left to lose”.   The reporters quizzing him seemed almost as miserable as he was.

I’ve always found Timmy’s eloquence, and his openness with the media, endearing.  During his 2010 slump, he thoughtfully answered reporters’ questions after every game when everyone knew he’d rather be just about anywhere else.  Compared to the disingenuous Bull Durham-style platitudes and grudging one-word answers from other ballplayers, it was refreshing.

Timmy is beloved in San Francisco so reaction to his implosion was subdued at first – after all, he’s struggled before, and always bounced back.  But this week I’ve begun hearing, “If he’s not hurt, then he must be washed up.  He’s finished.”

It’s true, his 6.42 ERA is the worst of any starting pitcher in the league, but I haven’t given up on Tim Lincecum. I have nothing to back this up but my pure, blind faith.  He had his stuff against the A’s and the Dodgers, and his delicate confidence seemed on the rebound.  Then came the heat and humidity of D.C., where he lasted fewer than four innings and probably lost 10 pounds in perspiration.  Timmy won’t make excuses for himself, so I will – he is not a hot weather pitcher, which is one of the reasons he’s thrived here in foggy San Francisco.  I can’t help but wonder if things would have been different, had July 3rd’s game been played at AT&T Park.

Anyway, I refuse to believe Tim Lincecum is washed up.  I’m with Ann Killion, who wrote today about Timmy’s need to not over think things during the All-Star break.  Let’s hope he takes this chance to regroup, remind himself how he got where he is… and hopefully get his swagger back.

Come Saturday, when he’s scheduled to pitch against the Astros, I’ll be watching on tenterhooks.  When it comes to Tim Lincecum, I’m not just on the bandwagon… I’m driving it.

So, anyone out there want to ride shotgun?

 

Just Squint and Think of Tartan

Hang on to your Dodgers’ gear.  Evidence suggests that a San Francisco Giants fan may have infiltrated the animation department at Disney!

I have been accused, from time to time, of seeing (read: imagining) Giants pitcher Tim Lincecum all over the place — but how could anyone overlook the uncanny resemblance between Young MacIntosh in Disney’s new film “Brave”, and our Timmy?

It’s as plain as the soul patch on Timmy’s chin.

Aye, both lads are tall and lanky with a dearth of body hair — which they make up for on their heads.  And don’t forget, Lincecum hails from Seattle, land of the utilikilt.

Spooky, huh?  Have I successfully blown your mind?

The good news: MacIntosh is partial to feisty redheads.  I’m just saying…

You all see the resemblance too, right?  If not, trying squinting and thinking of tartan.

Brave's Young MacIntosh
Brave’s Young MacIntosh
Tim Lincecum
Tim Lincecum