When Timmy Got All Zito and Then When We Wished for Just That

I am rarely rendered speechless, but I certainly was last night.  The Giants and Rockies hit like there was no tomorrow, with a final score of 17-8, and the Giants also made cringe-worthy errors like there was no tomorrow.  Not quite sure why you would make cringe-worthy errors if there was no tomorrow, but I obviously do not fully understand the psyche of the Giants just yet.

The game started out disastrously, then looked miraculously wonderful, and then became disastrous all over again.  Despicable Me balloon scene comes to mind.  I optimistically hoped that this year, the Giants would not do any handing-balloon-then-popping-balloon, but apparently not.   I clutched my very delicious orange tea and sniffled over my radio as pitcher after pitcher got shelled and ERAs rose to serious, undeniable danger zone.

Besides all of that, there is Buster Posey’s case of shingles, which is the sort of thing that happens during the Dog Days of August, when everything gets weird, but on April 11th?  Everyone is supposed to be perky and healthy and, you know, getting wins.  Bad luck can’t last forever, though, so I’m just choosing to believe that everyone else is peaking early and our trials now will lead to success later.

And, yeah.  Be the change you want to see in the world.  I am this close to changing my blog name to “Inspirational Quotes Inc.!”

But seriously, if I were going to change my blog name to anything, “Baseball Player’s Haircuts ‘N Things” would probably more appropriate.  Which means, of course, that we need to break down Timmy’s haircut.

I like it.  It suits his long face shape better (I know I talked about this a long time ago, but I can’t seem to find the post at the moment) and changing things up, in a purely non change-up sense, might be just what he needs.  Sure, it didn’t really at all work yesterday, but these sorts of things can take time.  I am from the city with three psychic schools and countless more psychics-for-hire.  I know these sorts of things.

As for the baby giraffe in the room – move over, elephant – there’s his pitching.  There was nothing encouraging about Lincecum’s performance, but I was slightly and strangely encouraged by his quotes afterwards.  From the SF Chronicle: “I don’t think it’s a matter of finding answers per se.  It’s a matter of grinding through it and knowing at some point in the season you’re going to have these.”  This is preferable any day to when Timmy had his Zito phase and went all, “I don’t feel like I’m getting tired. I don’t feel like anything’s broken… I think the key for me is just to get my mental state right and fix what’s going on.”

The irony here, of course, is that if Timmy got all Zito on us right at this moment, we would all rejoice and confetti might very well appear in the skies of San Francisco.  Baseball, you are a very strange game.  Love, Emily.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  I will now allow myself one, “What’s wrong with Timmy?”  Okay.  Done.  Out of my system.  Let’s move on.

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