The parade is tomorrow which kind of takes I am so there to a whole new level – hopefully so there, if I can finagle my way out of all the things I’m supposed to be doing at 11am tomorrow morning, of course – and I may or may not be wearing a pair of reindeer antlers because a) it’s Halloween and b) Yu Darvish would be proud of me and c) that’s my playoff tradition, the end.
Everything’s still sinking in for me and there’ll be ample time to dissect it all later, but today I just wanted to post an excerpt from the absolutely marvelous article on Bay Area Sports Guy today: The unlikely hero worship of Ryan Theriot.
See, Theriot scored that winning run for average guys everywhere. I can’t relate to Posey’s pure abilities, or Pablo’s power hitting or Cain’s perfect pitching. I can relate to being knocked down. I can relate to being replaced. I can relate to not hanging my head and coming through when it counts.
Plenty of folks will buy their Scutaro jerseys to remember this year’s championship. I can’t blame them. It makes perfect sense. But I’m weird, so maybe I’ll get myself a Theriot jersey instead. I don’t really care how people look at me or how obscure it is; I’ll never forget the quiet, harious hero that lifted the Giants to a 2012 title.
Isn’t it true? I would say we should all go out and buy Theriot jerseys, except that would kind of ruin the alternativeness of it all. As Berkeley boy Billie Joe Armstrong once said, “A guy walks up to me and asks ‘What’s punk?’, so I kick over a garbage can and say ‘That’s punk!’. So he kicks over a garbage can and says ‘That’s punk?’ and I say ‘No, that’s trendy.” The Ryan Theriot jersey is now the virtual equivalent of kicking over garbage cans and wearing elephant jewelry (hello, my soulmates who did that too) and whatnot.
Still, none of that changes the undeniable amazingness of Ryan Theriot. He is just a deadlock to do something GIF-able tomorrow, isn’t he?