September 2011
I Smell the Postseason
It smells like cinnamon and cranberries and pumpkins. And yeah, peanuts and cracker jacks and fresh grass and all that normal baseball jazz. This must all mean three things:
a) I am craving a pumpkin latte and a trip to Peet’s is in order.
b) I want it to be Thanksgiving already.
c) The postseason kicks off in Less. Than. Two. Hours! Be excited. Be very, very excited.
Diamond Girl
My Favorite Game of the Year? You May Be Surprised.
I figure now that the season is over I should probably make some attempt to be a cultured person, so I went to a museum exhibit this afternoon. And while paintings of frozen Dutch rivers are absolutely lovely, I spent a good part of the exhibit replaying the season in my head and trying to choose my favorite game.
It feels like an impossible thing to do, because along the way, games are wonderful for a huge number of reasons. Sometimes it’s simply that it’s an important one or that it’s one that I got to go to or one where the Giants just did really well. But one did keep standing out in my mind and saying, Pick me! Pick me! (Yes, baseball games do talk in my head. Not weird at all, right?)
So I’ve picked that one. It probably wasn’t that important and dramatic in the scheme of things, but it’s one that I’ll never forget all the same. Let’s flashback to it, July 2nd, 2011 at Tigers Stadium.
It’s Giants vs. Tigers, Zito (2-1) vs. Max Scherzer (9-4). Detroit is 1.5 games out of first place and San Francisco is in first place, 3 round games ahead of Arizona. Yesterday, they beat the Tigers in heart attack fashion for the first game of the series by a final of 4-3, with Wilson throwing a world class tantrum after blowing the save.
So it began. The Giants scored five runs in the first inning on B-Craw and Panda homers and things moved along nicely from there, blowout style. But Michigan weather had other plans. A massive thunderstorm hit in the third, suddenly and with a stunning amount of rain. We all worried that game would not restart and all those runs would go to waste, but then the sky turned orange and I, for one, knew that boded well.
After nearly three hours, once all the fans had presumably gone home and gotten toasty with hot chocolate or whatever, the umps announced the game was back on. We all raised our eyebrows and un-muted our televisions.
And then the fun started.
The first pitch following the rain delay was hit grandly into the stands by Miguel Tejada for a grand freakin’ slam.
Zito stayed in his zone by listening to lame rappers (hey, whatever works) and came back to pitch after all that time and gave the team six scoreless innings, over 80 pitches.
The runs party did not stop there and the game eventually ended at 12:36 local time with a final score of 15-3, Giants winning. It was one of those crazy games that just reaffirms your adoration of baseball and that the game will do what it will do. And, you know, I live for rain. So if my team can pull off 15 runs in the rain, that makes me love them a little more. If that’s even possible.
Diamond Girl
162 Things I Loved About 2011 In San Francisco Giants-Land
In no particular order, in honor of the 162 games of the regular season…
162. The walk-off on Opening Day for the second consecutive year. And provided some awesome entertainment along the way as I drove to Fresno to see the Grizzlies Opening Night.
161. The new and improved Pablo Sandoval.
160. The rather awesome drama and content they provided for their reality show.
159. Heck, they had a reality show!
158. They carried first place for a good long while, even though they didn’t finish with it.
157. They had All Stars. A whole bunch of them.
156. They gave me bragging rights for life. We got Carlos Beltran. (Never mind what happened afterwards.)
155. They kinda massacred the Chamber of Horrors, aka Coors Field.
155. NATE. That is all.
154. Their hitting coach who takes, “Reach for the moon, if you fall down, at least you’ll fall in the stars” very literally. Like, he’s-going-to-the-moon literally. It’s sure to bode well for the offense in the future.
153. They chewed gum at the White House. It was strangely endearing.
152. Heck, they went to the White House!
151. They were so resilient I can’t even express it in words. Well, maybe I could. But I have a whole lot more of these to write, so I’m not going to get into it.
150. Santiago Casilla and his epic and previously undiscovered closing skills.
149. Brett.
148. And Brandon.
147. And, oh, the other Brandon too.
145. The multitude of B’s!
144. The incredibly pleasant surprise that was Eric Surkamp in his first start back.
142. And the incredibly pleasant surprise that was Ryan Vogelsong all around.
141. Chris Stewart. And his brainiac-ness. And his overall awesomeness.
140. The fact that AT&T Park exists and is amazingly beautiful. Pays to remember that, every now and then, right?
139. D-Ro having a few more special moments. I really hope he’s back next year in some way.
138. Madison and his trademarked first inning meltdowns. And yes, that he was otherwise amazing.
137. Bruce Bochy. ‘Nuff said.
136. Conor Gillaspie. (The name! The name!)
135. Those special little moments when Guillermo Mota came in for long relief and just saved us all.
134. Getting to see Travis Ishikawa one last time, when he got his ring.
133. OH! Yes! The ring ceremony…
132 …and the mismatched, mint colored boxes the rings came in…
131. …and Sergio Romo goofing off at the ceremony…
129. There was also Vogey’s lovely little speech when he got the Willie Mac Award.
128. Remember when Tim Flannery, third base coach, sang the National Anthem? Epic.
127. The crazy thunder storm/rain delay in Detroit. And the way the broadcasters filled the empty time. That was magical.
126. Kepp’s walk-off vs. the Astros. So there, Houston.
124. Crawford’s grand-slam in his first game against Milwaukee. Remember that? Goosebumps and smiles.
123. The prank Ross et al. played on Huff. Which we got to see because of aforementioned reality show.
122. Did I mention, THE GIANTS HAD A REALITY SHOW?
121. When Brandon Belt met a baby giraffe and took pictures with it. That may actually be my favorite moment of the entire year. Seriously, how utterly fantastic?
120. That they never missed a beat, even after the loss of Posey and then Sanchez.
119. Timmy back to being Timmy, for the most part.
118. And Timmy and Matt Cain both reached 1000th career strikeouts, which was fabulous.
117. Finishing ahead of the Padres. Vendetta? Yes, vendetta.
116. Romo shaving. Because that may imply that other people will shave soon.
115. coughcoughBrianWilsoncoughcough
114. NATE. Again.
113. And Nate’s upper deck shot in Colorado that his brother got. Too many awesome things about that to mention.
112. Slightly irrelevant, maybe, but Jon Miller not doing ESPN any more meant that he broadcasted for KNBR on the weekends. Which was enough to make the season, right there.
111. Together, We’re Giant. It actually grew on me. (But It’s Time is still, and always will be, better.)
110. The “sellouts”. Because they seriously cracked me up. Especially when the upper deck was e-m-p-t-y.
109. The little Sabean moment in Moneyball. When Billy Beane totally played the Giants. My rational mind was outraged and the rest of me was snickering.
108. Watching Pablo’s defense just reappear before our very eyes.
107. Being there for Carlos Beltran’s 300th career homerun.
106. And speaking of homeruns… Brandon Belt had a couple to remember.
105. And when Brandon Belt made the club out of spring training and it felt like nothing could possibly go wrong.
104. The fact that some people didn’t get injured. Can’t think of any? No, I’m sure there were a few.
103. The fact that Aubrey Huff always has good years after bad ones. Most definitely. This bodes well for 2012.
102. While I hated that the cost for parking doubled, I think it was because they won the World Series. And I do love that. So, by extension, I love the new parking rates. Sort of.
101. The Churros guy. If you’ve ever been to a Major League ballpark, you know what I mean.
100-50. Looking at the new lineup every day, usually with my mouth gaping wide open.
49. The few nice Zito moments. They were there. And they were smile-inducing.
48. The fact that the year after the championship, while it wasn’t exactly a success, was not a collapse either. This was a pennant race right down until the end.
47. Can I just say one more thing about Chris Stewart? His first Major League homerun rocked.
46. When Edgar came back, if only for a bit. *sniffles*
45. And remember when Uribe came back? *sniffles again*
44. I also liked riding my first roller coast (no, really. It’s related.) because it drove home that this season was like a roller coaster. Which is to say seriously headache inducing, but fun afterwards.
43. I don’t know how this all worked, but I’ve been hearing Giants ads for the Not For Sale Campaign. If they’ve partnered, then that is most certainly something I love.
42. Jeremy’s rebound year. Minus the frozen burger patties.
41. That they didn’t do anything silly like start the season in Taiwan.
40. That they rocked their doubleheader at Wrigley.
39. Matt Cain ruled overall, as always.
38. That they let themselves get swept by Milwaukee in May. I’m sure they have a crystal ball and knew they wouldn’t get into the playoffs, but the Brewers could, so they gave them that series. Very thoughtful, you know.
36. When Bruce Bochy got congratulated by Ryan Braun on winning the World Series (minute 1:40. I know you want to see it.) This is what I call icing on the cake, people.
35. NATE. One last time. Sorry.
34-20. This is when Diamond Girl had to leave unexpectedly to sniffle in the closet for a bit at the realization that this is really the end of the 2011 season.
19. Okay! Back. Let’s do a silver lining thing now: not winning the pennant means the target-on-back will lessen or disappear. And these Giants do better when there are no Great Expectations. Sorry, Charles Dickens.
18. They also helped me and my new fish bond. I am quite positive that the reason my fish seems to be liking me more is that we’ve endured the torture holed up in my room (yep, I said torture) together.
16. Emmanuel Burriss’s nickname-picky mother.
14. Totally random memory: Pat Burrell and Eli Whiteside both hitting triples in one game. Weird and great.
13. The promotions their awesome TV network came up with. Especially the Ultimate Tim Lincecum one. (Which I, eh, won.)
12. The players designing endearingly horrific t-shirts.
11. That they drafted another good-name player in the draft. That is Joe Panik. If only for the name, it was a good pick.
10. Walk-offs!
9. And more walk-offs!
8. And even more walk-offs!
7. The power outage in St. Louis. Now I really credit the Cardinals (read: Tony LaRussa) for that, but it was a Giants moment anyway. And a darn memorable one, too.
6. When Cainer demonstrated he actually does have the ability to dress well.
4. Last thing about Chris Stewart! I promise! But I remember the first time I saw him do a throwdown to second. And I think I thought it was cupcakes and brownies and cinnamon roasted almonds all mashed into one. (And yet it was good. All those foods mashed together probably, um, wouldn’t be.)
3. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking you shouldn’t let your kids watch baseball! It’s educational! I mean, this year I learned what “contusion” means. Overandoverandoveragain.
2. It was like a magical realism book (what is a magical realism book, you ask? Read here and be enlightened.) Stray bits of left over magic were everywhere. And that’s even better than full-on magic, somehow. (Although, yes, I like full-on magic when it means winning the World Series. But don’t interrupt my poetic-ness, please.)
1. They gave me a lot to blog about. A lot, a lot. So I thank them for that. And I thank you all for bearing with me and my weirdness and my love of strange foods and for reading and commenting here as well. It’s been a brilliant, crazy year and more fun than I can possibly express.
Now, if you’ll excuse me… I need to go reminisce for a bit more and then find my antlers and morph into Ranger-Girl. Bye-bye, 2011 season.
Diamond Girl
Epic, Massive, Total Buzzkill
My Saturday and Sunday were spent doing things like adding new Pandora channels, watching The Dark Knight, browsing earrings with text on them on etsy.com and watching my fish eat. Which is to say, anything but thinking about the Giants.
I’d be lying if I said I was excited to write this post. In fact, I’ve kinda-sorta been putting it off. Because I’m more than a little bit crushed. I can deal with losing. No, really. Don’t raise your eyebrow at me like that. I can. But this season has just been a heartbreaker. Especially that beautiful surge right at the end that made it impossible not to hope. Mathematical elimination hurts in any case. 2010 and the organization “having something good going” feels a long way off right about now.
So I am just gazing at my antlers on my dresser (almost that time of year again! Almost It’s Time time!) and trying to muster enjoyment for the last three games of this year and then the postseason.
Once the sting of this all wears off, I’m sure this season will look like a fabulous example of resilience, because the Giants made a hell of a run despite tons and tons- and did I mention tons?- of injuries.
There are, of course, some unfortunate things to come out of this year, foremost in my mind right now being Tim Lincecum’s (and probably Cain, too) dissatisfaction with the Giants and the offense and all that and desire to leave. Really, it was also disappointing to finally get the Bat that Will Save the Offense and have it be a letdown. The Beltran trade was that move every team wants their GM to make at the deadline and this is just an example of it not working out real well. Total buzz kill.
Then again, wasn’t that whole series in Arizona massive, total buzz kill?
I need cupcakes. Pronto. That is all.
Diamond Girl
Drawing Skulls and Editing Tombstone Photos, aka The Morbid Post
This time of year in baseball is precious. Part of me hates it and misses those carefree spring games, but there’s also no feeling quite like watching clinching games, whether or not you like the teams. It’s magical. And it reminds me of the Giants last year. And then I get sad all over again.
I’m actually really happy with how all the divisions have turned out. In the AL, I like the Yankees, Tigers, and Rangers, and will be pretty happy with any outcome there, as long as whoever gets the Wildcard (Boston, Tampa Bay or Anaheim) gets eliminated in the first round. Hey, I still think the Wildcard should be wild. We need to get that on Bud Selig’s desk, don’t we?
In the National League, I can’t stand the Phillies or Diamondbacks but am super stoked for Milwaukee. We shall, of course, have to see about that Wildcard.
Anyhow. 3-1 against the Diamondbacks feels like the story of this year. It’s just a bit heartbreaking to watch, really, because the Giants do feel maddeningly close to being good, really good, but just not quite there. It may be desperately preemptive, not to mention morbid, of me to say RIP 2011 Giants, but didn’t that feel an awful lot like The End, last night? Or was it just me?
I was seriously up at 1:54 this morning, unable to sleep, drawing skulls. So it may just be me. Hopefully.
Diamond Girl
p.s. Moneyball-day-after-thoughts? Billy Beane did so go to college. You lied, movie. You totally lied.
My Moneyball Movie Review!
I love movies with a predictable twist.
Okay, not really. I hate movies with a predictable twist, actually. But you know what I hate even more? Movies with no twist at all.
Enter Moneyball.
I woke up with an incredible urging to see the movie now that it’s finally out and even tweeted “Happy #Moneyball Day!”, because, as I’ve said, I really wanted to love it. But I just didn’t. A few things in particular…
The Types Were All Wrong
The movie didn’t delve very deep into personalities, which is fine, but I think they got all the stereotypes wrong, too. One could argue that since it’s a fictionalized account, the characters being realistic isn’t important, but I think in this case the types are integral to the story. Billy Beane, in particular, came across like a glorified, grown-up jock who was in the right place at the right time and put faith in Peter Brand, who was the smart one. Brand’s character was also odd to me because his type seemed like he should have been funny, a kind of a klutz, etc. Instead, he was pretty much a total straight man.
No Big Three
This was a gripe I had with the book, as well, but even more so with the movie. Where was Mulder? Hudson? Zito? Speaking of which…
The 20th Straight Win
I think Hudson being on the mound was a big part of that game, against the Royals, where the A’s went for their 20th straight win. More importantly, even, was the whole thing after Hudson was taken out. Howe brought in someone for the lefty-on-lefty matchup, if I’m remembering correctly and they totally ommited that. I guess it was cute for the whole “Beane-jinx” storyline for it to seem like the letting in 11 runs was a fluke, but it just felt random and meaningless then.
I think that was just one place out of many where they profoundly missed the original point of Moneyball. Which is fine, but then they needed to make their own compelling point, you know?
Sabean Doesn’t Talk Like That!
‘Nuff said. I’m glad they didn’t include Dombrowski’s voice too or I might have ended up being That Person who yells are the screen in the theatre.
The Corn
Not the yummy, yellow, gets-stuck-in-your-teeth-kind. The kind that makes you roll your eyes and drum your fingers. I think Aaron Sorkin is a really great script writer so I don’t know quite where this went wrong, except maybe that they told the story totally straight. It was weird, really. And the daughter storyline was undeveloped and incongruous, as far as I could tell.
The Good!
Saving it for last, because I’m a downer like that. I thought the Hatteberg storyline was absolutely great. It felt real enough that it made sense, but it also had a nice Hollywood twist to it and worked in a movie format. The acting was good and the whole thing was well done. The guy who played Wash was pretty good too.
Overall…
I didn’t hate it as much as I may have implied so far. It was fine, really. Just a bit confused, a bit boring and very, very flat. Not up to its potential, neither a baseball movie or an Oscar movie or even a business movie. One of the best movies of the year, Rolling Stone? Eh, nope.
Diamond Girl
p.s. I think the Dodgers read my blog post from yesterday and were all, “Scoring eight runs is rad! We should do it, too!” Which was not my intent.
Eight Meanings of… Eight
When they’re not being shut out by Kershaw, doesn’t it seem like the Giants score eight runs just about every game, lately? Not complaining, or anything. I really dig it. Just noting.
So I, being the mystic that I am, starting sleuthing around about what the number eight means.
- The Baltimore Orioles Hall of Famer Cal Ripken, Jr.’s number was 8 as was the New York Yankees, for Hall of Famer’s Yogi Berra.
- Eight is considered a lucky number in Chinese culture because it sounds like the word meaning to generate wealth (發(T) 发(S); Pinyin: fā). Property with the number 8 may be valued greatly by Chinese. For example, a Hong Kong number plate with the number 8 was sold for $640,000. The opening ceremony of the Summer Olympics in Beijing started at 8 seconds and 8 minutes past 8 pm (local time) on 8 August 2008.
- In human adult dentition there are eight teeth in each quadrant. The eighth tooth is the so-called wisdom tooth.
- In the Middle Ages, 8 was the number of “unmoving” stars in the sky, and symbolized the perfectioning of incoming planetary energy.
- 8 Mile is a (Diamond Girl note: artsy, slow, emo) 2002 film directed by Curtis Hanson
- The 8-track cartridge is a musical recording format
- “Section 8″ is common U.S. slang for “crazy”, based on the U.S. military’s Section 8 discharge for mentally unfit personnel
- In numerology, 8 is the number of building, and in some theories, also the number of destruction.
- The Dharmacakra, a Buddhist symbol, has eight spokes. The Buddha’s principal teaching—the Four Noble Truths — ramifies as the Noble Eightfold Path. In Mahayana Buddhism, the branches of the Eightfold Path are embodied by the Eight Great Bodhisattvas (Manjusri, Vajrapani, Avalokiteśvara, Maitreya, Ksitigarbha, Nivaranavishkambhi, Akasagarbha, and Samantabhadra). Similarly, Buddha’s birthday falls on the 8th day of the 4th month of the Chinese calendar.
- 8 apparitions appear to Macbeth in Act 4 scene 1 of Shakespeare’s Macbeth as representations of the 8 descendants of Banquo
- A stop sign has eight sides.
So, yeah. I think the eight runs thing has a big meaning. I just can’t quite figure out what it is, but… I’m sure it’s there.
Diamond Girl
p.s. Wikipedia rocks.
An Open Letter to Clayton Kershaw + Poll!
First! I have discovered WordPress polls (late to the game? Yes.) and have my very first here. Spill your secrets, people!
Dear Clayton,
Look. I’m not accustomed to saying this about Dodgers, but you are a pretty darn amazing pitcher. This, we know. And I respect good pitchers, even if they pitch under the watchful eye of that silly “THINK BLUE” sign. I think it’s very sweet that you have 20 wins and are the frontrunner for the Cy Young Award and are being compared to Sandy Koufax now.
This is all to say, I have no problem with you personally. Even professionally, when you’re facing the Diamondbacks or the Phillies or something. But when you’re facing the Giants? Yes. Yes, I most certainly have a problem with you.
I mean, this is justified. You seem to take immense pleasure in emotionally crushing me so of course I have distaste for your brilliance. You’ve allowed five earned runs over 42 innings against the Giants this year. Do you know how many hours that means I’ve sat next to my radio, listening to you shut down my team? I’m not real strong at math but that’s a lot, Clayton. A whole lot.
I guess I just don’t understand the psychology of a player on an eliminated team who crushes the playoff hopes of a barely-above-water team. And then says, “it’s a shame” afterwards. I mean, that seriously, seriously stings, you know?
Anyhow. We aren’t facing you again this year, which is good news and I hope that this offseason you have a revelation and go to Mongolia and live with the yaks or something nice like that. Or, eh, how many years until you become a free agent and head off to the American League? Not that I’m counting or anything.
Diamond Girl
p.s. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Cy Young awards over the years, it’s that you should try and be in a place with good cell phone reception during the day they came the winner. Just a word of advice.
My Complicated Relationship
…with baseball movies. The last baseball movie I liked was, well, never.
There. I said it.
I’ve tried to avoid this fact for much of my life (minor exaggeration, but still), but I can no longer avoid it. Every so often, for whatever reason, everyone starts talking about their favorite baseball movies on the internet and those are some of the only times in my life that I am quiet. Because I have nothing to contribute.
I’ve tried, really, I have. I watched Field of Dreams with a tissue box by my side, sure I would be as affected by it as everyone else but I was snickering at the dramatic/heart-wrenching moment. I snored through Eight Men Out. And I absolutely hated Sandlot.
Which is why I’m worried about the Moneyball movie, which opens this Friday. I loved the book and have a bit of a Billy-Beane-is-a-rockstar thing going on, so I want to like it with all my heart. It’s just that my track record isn’t promising.
I think what I don’t like about baseball movies, actually, is what I don’t like about most “genre” movies. I don’t like horror or romance, although I often enjoy movies with horror or romance elements. I feel like so often baseball movies are too much about the baseball and not primarily a good film. Good cinematography, good acting, good script- that all seems to go by the wayside.
So my fingers are solidly crossed about the Moneyball movie.
And may I also just comment on what an absolutely bizarre looking cover this is?
Diamond Girl
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