Monthly Archives: November 2012

David Stern is a Helicopter Mom and Other Facts of Life

One of the (few) upsides of the offseason is that it reminds me why I am a baseball fan and not a fan of these other crazy sports.  Like the sport with the helicopter mom for a commissioner.  Looking at you, David Stern.  Or the sport where the fans turn on their starting quarterback after one game, one game, and call for him to never-evah be started again.  Looking at you, Niners fans.  Now look, I’m not a fan of these sports.  I follow them very tangentially.  So you can argue that Colin Kaepernick is the greatest thing to happen to the planet since Peter Jackson decided to make the Hobbit movies a trilogy until you’re blue in the face and you probably won’t convince me of anything.  A) Because they tried to fine Alex Smith $25,000 for wearing a Giants hat and he drove in the parade, which forever endeared him to me and also because I think fans should be a little less, ahem, fair-weather.

Let’s not even argue about David Stern.  I found a list of signs you might be a helicopter parents on a site called Momservations and the #1 sign is:  “You run out on a field of play during a time-out to apply sunscreen.”  Which is, like, totally a David Stern thing to do.  I mean, I can just imagine it.

Also, this sign: “Your kid can’t hear what the coach is telling them to do because of your yelling from the stands.”  This is getting eerie, people.

Anyway, in kinda-sorta-not-really-at-all baseball news, I went to the CJM yesterday for The Radical Camera exhibit and if you’re in the area, it’s really a fascinating portrait of early to mid 20th century America, not to mention it’s side by side with an exhibit about the picture book writer and illustrator Ezra Jack Keats, which is amazing.

And guess what postcard I came home with?

Zito Bakery

That one.  #RallyZitoSanitaryBakery.

Diamond Girl

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Brian Sabean is Not Tender

I have a feeling that if I got a dollar for every person who laughed at my little pun in the title, I would be… exactly as rich/poor as I am now.  But there was a point, I promise.

As Henry Schulman explains in the Chronicle, “Friday is the deadline for teams to tender contracts to all unsigned players. Under the Collective Bargaining Agreement, any contract offer must be at least 80 percent of what a player made the year before. Wilson earned $8.5 million, so any offer for 2013 would have to be at least $6.8 million.  The Giants do not intend to offer Wilson a $6.8 million guarantee after he missed the 2012 season (save for two games in April) with an elbow injury that required his second Tommy John surgery.”

Santiago Casilla is in the same situation as Wilson, so his future will also be up in the air.  Wilson, of course, had his second Tommy John surgery and I think I speak for most Giants fans when I say I’m not nearly as convinced as he is that he’s going to be closing for the Giants on Opening Day.

And even if he could (barring a health setback, which is more than a distant possibility)… would we want that?  Sergio Romo took the closer role so decisively during the latter part of this past season and did a damn good job with it.  It’s hard to get inside the head of the management, but as a fan, no, I don’t.  I don’t have any love lost for Wilson and I think Romo’s a better closer.  I’d rather see Wilson walk.  But the Giants may be miles away from that… and only time will tell.

We’re creeping closer to the Winter Meetings, but the Hot Stove is sort of completely and utterly silent.  Apparently all the other GMs are as non-tender as Sabes.  Better leave before I make more of those jokes.

Happy Tuesday, everyone!  Why didn’t any of you warn me that putting a strap on a camera is like rocket science and would suck away an hour of my time?  I would have warned you.  If I had known.  I didn’t, obviously.  Hence that half hour that just disappeared

Diamond Girl

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Offseason Blues

Empty baseball field

–a robin,

hops along a bench

-Book of Haikus, Jack Kerouac

Diamond Girl

p.s.  I cannot recommend this book highly enough.  Go find it promptly – it is sure to ease your offseason blues.

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Groucho Marx and Willie Mays

Happy Almost-Thanksgiving!  I’ve been on a bit of a Woody Allen kick (pretty much my permanent state, but still) and watched Radio Days for the first time last night.  It’s a delightful, nostalgic movie and also features what is my favorite baseball moment in a movie to date.

Those of you who’ve been around for a while know that I cannot stand baseball movies.  This is akin to leprosy if you are a baseball fan.  Not adoring the slimy dog in Sandlot is no way to make friends who like baseball or even ones who don’t, it seems.  I have yet to meet someone else who thinks that dog is slimy, but I’m holding out hope.

Anyway, next time someone says Field of Dreams I will politely forward them that YouTube clip.

Also, the reasons for living are indeed Groucho Marx and Willie Mays.  Manhattan has it right.

These clips because they can never be watched too many times.

I hope everyone has a lovely Thanksgiving and is fortified with enough food for like six months because some of the stores are closed and that’s sort of panic inducing.  I know I am.  This year, I am thankful that the Giants won the World Series.  And, you know, some other stuff.  But mostly that.

Diamond Girl

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Catch-Up Time

Sorry for my absence!  I’ve been sick and going through prolonged baseball withdrawal, which is not a good combination.  (Also been eating a lot of cranberry chocolate, which is pretty much the greatest thing currently on Planet Earth.)

I know what you’re thinking, but you need to go buy your own.  You can’t have mine.

But I am back and ready to tackle some big things like the fact that every single MLB player is fleeing to the Blue Jays and also that our very own Buster Posey was named Most Valuable Player.

We knew he was most valuable.  But it’s still pretty marvelous for everyone else to confirm it.  We are very lucky to have Buster in San Francisco and while it’s faded from memory now, it really wasn’t a given that he’d be back every day after his injury in 2011.  There was a lot of uncertainty that his mammoth season just about wiped out, but it’s incredible all the same.  Congratulations, Buster.

The American League was a bit of a murkier prospect.  Much was made of the Mike Trout vs. Miguel Cabrera thing and there were more than a few outraged baseball fans when Cabrera took the award in what ended up being not a very close race at all.  And I was annoyed by that.  Because frankly, what it came down to was one very good baseball player vs. another very good baseball player.  I saw Trout play in Anaheim and he was amazing to watch.  I’ve never personally seen Cabrera play, but I have no doubt he is amazing as well.

I would venture to say that this wasn’t all about advanced statistics and sabermetrics; I think as the arguments went on, Cabrera came to signify old school and Trout, new school, in some people’s minds and while that’s fine, it sort of defeats the original argument that these decisions should be entirely based on advanced stats.

I also have to what the point is of an award that is voted on by people if those people are all going to vote based on a certain stat sheet – which stats are important to different people?  I have always thought the point of the BWAA awards was that writers who see these players every day make judgment calls.   A judgment call cannot, really, be right or wrong.  The writers picked the person they picked and ultimately, he’s one of the best players in the game right now.  End of story.

But were you all on Team Trout or Team Cabrera?  Maybe they should have just named Buster Posey Most Valuable Player in the League, People, Deal With It and left it at that.  Much less controversy.

Diamond Girl

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