Monthly Archives: May 2012

Battle of the 55s

The pitching matchup for tonight!

Am I thousand years behind everyone else in noticing this?  Alternately, seeing as there are a thousand and one 55s in MLB, does nobody else care?  Tonight is a big game, of course, because every Lincecum start is a chance at redemption and what better way to lead into redemption than that 12-7 win last night?  (Correction:  Thanks to tweeter @jeni_2782 for pointing out that the final was actually 14-7.  Say what?  I’m telling you, I can’t keep track of a team that actually scores runs.)  I am not used to those crooked numbers, not used to them at all.  I mean, for a little bit there, I felt like I was watching the Rangers.  Then I remembered that the Rangers have a cool General Manager who broadcasts a few innings of his team’s games on the radio and things and the Giants have Brian Sabean.  Talk about a reminder of what’s what.  That was kind of a sad moment but still, I enjoyed the game.

The Marlins stadium still weirds me out but, hey, if nightclubs are kind of their thing, who am I to criticize?  I am setting my wedding date with Kate Spade New York as I write.  Besides, that tidbit about the club section being so loud they couldn’t hear the phone in the bullpen is seriously priceless.  Remember when Tony La Russa suggested smoke signals because there was a big miscommunication between the bullpen and the dugout?   I thought it was a fantastic idea.  The Marlins might consider it too, just as long as they can figure out how to create teal smoke.  I have complete faith on that front.

The internet knows what I’m talking about.

Let’s also just talk Melky Cabrera for a moment, before I go.  That guy, guys.  He is the best thing to happen to San Francisco since Joe Martinez or something.  (No sarcasm there, I am terribly partial to Joe Martinez.  Never mind the stats.)  I admit to being perpetually puzzled by the Melk Men thing – I think it’s before my time maybe… don’t judge but I kind of get my milk at a grocery store – but with due love to J-Sanch, the Giants got the best part of that trade.   The best, the best.  Observe:

Tiene Leche, as the Yankees used to say.  Maybe we’re not cursed after all?

Diamond Girl

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You Know What I Wanted to Title This Post

In other news, I am embarrassed to admit that I am rather partial to the fish tank at the Miami Marlins new stadium.  Although knowing my fish, who is the most antisocial creature I have ever come across in my life, I can’t imagine the fishies are all that good company at the ballgame.

Also worth noting:  yesterday’s starter for the Brewers, Marco Estrada, has been placed on the Disabled List today, following an injury against the Giants in the first inning when he hurt his leg, running out a 2-run double.  I don’t have any stats to back this up but he must be, oh, the five millionth player to head to the DL after facing the Giants.  A lot of people have discussed the Giants being cursed this year — something about handing over their souls to win the 2010 World Series — but if we’re really talking curses?  Talk to the myriad of guys San Francisco has injured, in some way or other.  I am sure they would be happy to spill, through their full body casts or whatever.

Said with no glee whatsoever.  Injures are terrible, whether or not it’s the opposing team or even a player I detest.  But it is a trend worth raising an eyebrow and poking one’s voodoo dolls about, perhaps.

Vogelstrong or, as I like to call him, Baby Lemur, is on the mound tonight.  I think I have a good feeling about this.  (To be removed from post promptly after game if the Giants lose.  Feel free to screen-grab for posterity in the meantime.)

If you get past the fact that there is no resemblance, isn’t there totally a resemblance?

Diamond Girl

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An Open Letter to Morning Games

Dear Morning Games,

You are a fun phenomenon that we get here on the West Coast.  You are probably preferable to whatever East Coasters get – staying up until the wee hours of the morning for California games, I suppose.  But with great power comes great responsibility, you know that, right?  (Semi) singlehandedly you are able to either make or ruin a day.

See, if you come on at 10:10am, there’s a certain element of being catalytic in a person’s day.  Call me dramatic, but I firmly believe this be true.  Point is, starting out with a six run inning?

That is not acceptable.  I get that Barry Zito is allergic to Miller Park or whatever and it’s unethical to keep the roof half open, half closed (cooee, Bud Selig!) but those are not really excuses, when you factor in that you also ruined my coffee and distracted me from all of the things I kindasortareally should have been doing.  8-5 final is better than I was expecting, but it’s still not, well, good.

The game fell apart in a lot of ways, you know, not only Zito.  Case in point:  only two of the six runs scored off of him were earned.  He didn’t look good, by any stretch of the imagination, but the defense was also something akin to abysmal.  Additionally, no one can hit with RISP, so then there’s that.  But I’m not blaming you for that part.  Really, I’m not.  I get that you are basically innocent in this situation.  Just, you know, venting ‘cause we’re buddies and stuff, right?

Yeah.  You get it.

The Giants are off to Miami now, to face Ozzie Guillen’s Marlins for Memorial Day Weekend.  You’re off the hook until the next 10:10am game on Sunday.  We part as friends, then, darling morning games?  Until I find a way to eliminate you?  Might include some elimination of time zones but I’m always down for a challenge.

Make that, usually down for a challenge.  Dealing with Barry Zito melting like an ice cream cone in the sun is not in my job description.  I knew this photo would come in handy again, somehow.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  My actual inspirational jazz for the day?  As they always say, if a team wins each series they play, even without sweeping, that’s pretty darn good.  Nasty final games in a series that is already won are forgettable, thankfully.  Excuse me while I prepare the Kool-Aid.

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Braun Graciously Praised Bumgarner, Guys.

I can’t actually find a time on last night’s Giants game in Milwaukee, but it was either really long or it felt really long.  Which kind of amount to the same thing: me biting my nails, eating pasta, eating gummy butterflies (by the way?  Gummy butterflies > gummy bears.  It’s been proven.) and eventually going to sleep with a smile on my face.

It was an up-and-down one, kicking off with a Buster Posey three-run shot in the first inning and then a whole bunch of triples and things.  Apparently, even when the Brewers sacrilegiously open the roof against Ryan Braun’s wishes, there is pop in Milwaukee.  Braun himself, actually, launched a homer in the eighth to tie the game up and then promptly gave what might be my favorite quote of the year.  It’s only May, so Jon Daniels and Michael Young still have a while to catfight in public and give awesome quotes, but for now?  It’s this one, from MLB.com:

Braun graciously praised Bumgarner.

“He was good, man,” Braun said. “He’s been one of the best pitchers, I think, in the National League since he’s been in the big leagues. His cutter was really on tonight. It’s his best pitch, and when he’s throwing it well, he’s definitely pretty tough to get runs against.”

That’s like when Taylor Swift and Taylor Lautner are in a movie together and all of the screaming fans have seizures from the combination of the two Taylor’s on screen together.  Never mind the wacky analogy, but you know what I mean.  Braun graciously praising Bumgarner is that scale of epic-combo.  Probably higher scale, actually, but I don’t want to the Taylor fans to descend and murder me.

Anyway!  It was Hector Sanchez, of stealing Chris Stewart and Eli Whiteside’s jobs’ fame, who eventually hit the game-winning homer in the 14th and gave the Gigantes the win.  He is rapidly growing on me.  In other news, since when do the catchers hit loads for this team?  Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, but it’s kind of taking me a little time to get used to.

In other Bay Area sports news, the Warriors announced they will be moving to a new arena in San Francisco from Oakland in 2017.  Which is great for them, aside from the unfortunate little detail about the world ending in December 2012.  Then again, if the world does not end, they could always get the pop-up arena from London after the Olympics.  Either way, new arena?  Not necessary, guys.  Not necessary at all.

Diamond Girl

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The Curse of the One Horribly Nasty Inning

For two days there, everything was golden.  The Giants won the Bay Bridge series, Part I for 2012, taking two out of three.  The first game was 8-6, the second 4-0 and the third was, well, 6-2 with the A’s winning.  That’s when the goldenness shuttered to a halt.  In general, I like the A’s just fine.  I follow them casually, seeing as they reside close to me and I have an irrational adoration of Billy Beane, but when they match up against San Francisco, my feelings take a bit of a 360.

Which is all to say, I was glad the Giants won this series and acquitted their side of the bay rather nicely and are now back on the light side of .500.  Confession, though:  I was relieved to see that Josh Reddick got that homer in the final game, if the Giants were the going to lose it anyway.  On Friday night, he smashed himself in the back of the head with his bat after striking out and I’ve been kind of worried for him all weekend.  Presumably a homer will dissuade him from smashing himself in the head for a while?  Because I would sleep much better at night knowing that.  Baseball’s fantastic but it’s not all that, Josh.  Okay?  Okay.  Now that that’s settled!

The unfortunate part of the series, of course, was the last game.  (Aside from the Reddick longball, as previously discussed.)  Because although the club looked all around much better in the first two games, Lincecum had The Curse of the One Horribly Nasty Inning and that pretty much blew the game open.  “What’s wrong with Timmy?” doesn’t cut it at this point.  He claims he needs to become more arrogant and while I applaud the sentiment – who doesn’t want to become arrogant?  I sure do. – I have to admit, I’m not one hundred percent what that has to do with The Curse of the One Horribly Nasty Inning.  I might try the voodoo store in Berkeley, if I were him.  Then again, if I were him, I would also have gotten that haircut a cool five thousand years before he did.  Evidently, I am not him.  If I can become more arrogant and pitch better, I do not object in the slightest.  In the meantime, I am glad to have Madison on the mound in Milwaukee tonight.  Can he bat clean-up, Bochy et al.?  Pretty please?

In other (old) news, Bob Davidson of balkin’ fame was suspended a game for his lack of social skills.  Er, bad “situation handling”.  He apparently did not peace out and check out my ump-themed tote as I advised him a while back.  I do still wonder if he likes rom-coms or action flicks, but I will probably never know.  Ah, well.  Onwards to more pressing things, like…

Beat Mil-Wah, guys!  Just don’t, you know, beat Ryan Braun.  If you can help it.

Diamond Girl

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