Tuesday, July 29, 2008

How (And How Not) To Get It Done

S.F. is now 1 for 1 when I am at Dodger Stadium. For those who like it straight-up, here's the box and wrap. Thank you; I am quite proud of them, myself. Hence the title.

But the title also implies how not to get things done. And what I was not proud of, visibly and vocally (in an explanative, not expletive, fashion), was further proof of my "(mis)management conspiracy" theory to throw this team into the Bay with player rotation. In addition to Ralph Barbieri's fantastic tirade this afternoon which furthered my post on Lincecum's removal Saturday, I got to witness first-hand what Bochy's idiocy means for this team. More on that later.

We can allow a little indulgence into the good of the game itself, but it was honestly a weird game. Strange. Had a humid "feel" to it's weirdness. First of all, we scored seven runs without first allowing the Dodgers a hit. I was feeling proud of Kevin Correia. Especially since our own run seemed to start when he got a two-run single himself with two outs, after Vizquel struck out chasing (bad) sliders.

I was also feeling proud of the umpires from a biased point of view, because there were three consecutive, very close calls in a row that kept our run-streak alive in the fourth: a plate tag (couldn't see it), Lewis beating a throw at first (did see it and it looked a tie, which means I functionally didn't see it), and Ethier's "catch" in RF hitting the ground before his glove (which I couldn't see for other people in the way). After those were done, we played a contact-hitting game. This is really the only way we score, and it explains why we score in bunches. Think of it like the baseball equivalent to bopping squirrels on the head at an arcade. It's frenzied, and it's erratic, but you get on a roll.

However after the run amazement, and the umpiring amazement (which was not done for the night), came the necessary growing pains of our youth. In the fourth, we almost gave up a run. Bochy left Correia in. OK, maybe. Then in the fifth, the Dodgers actually scored five runs, with no one out. Righetti talks to Correia after the second run comes in. Nice talk. Lewis misfielded what should have been a single, making it a two run double.

Then on a bunt, Bowker starts towards the ball. Too bad the ball had only gone six inches - an easy play for Molina. Except Bowker wasn't at first, and because he was moving back while Molina had the ball, Castillo didn't know whether to stand at first or not. Bowker decided that for him by backing off but too late, and Molina threw it. Why? Who knows. But Castillo, who should have been there to back Bowker up anyway, was not in place for it and lost it entirely. Did I mention that earlier in the inning, Castillo had made an erroneous throw to let Loney on base in the first place? Let me say this: You shouldn't be surprised.

Given that Correia was still in at this point, the following is the second piece of evidence for the mismanagement theory: Castillo at 2B. Excuse me, but you already have Bowker to play 1B, and Rich Aurilia to play at 3B, and sometimes 1B. Castillo can split time at 3B, though everyone in their right mind prefers Richie, which they should. (He was one of the only consistent areas of hope on both sides of the ball tonight - he hit when he had to and fielded where it would be necessary to make the best play. And of course he still has the right spirit about him on the field: gritty, versatile, calculating, and unsung.) The point here is that you've just freed Durham so that Burriss and Velez can grow out of their youth. Castillo has no place at 2B, ever.

The third piece of evidence, and the rest of it actually, is pitching. After giving up five runs in the fifth, Bochy left Correia in to bat, and then in to get one out in the sixth. This was insane; when Correia left, a runner was on second and it was 7-6. Bochy gained nothing by leaving Correia in, except another way to self-destruct his team.

Fourth piece of evidence: bringing in Hinshaw, who has the best ERA in the 'pen, to face one batter. Yes, Hinshaw walked him; yes, lefty-to-lefty is a good matchup; but this was the bottom of the sixth. Let the man finish it out. Romo did that instead, and awkwardly. Romo did not return.

Instead (the fifth piece), Walker was given the ball in the seventh. Yes, Mr.-Blow-It. Did we have luck? Fortunately, yes. But the first out was a mistaken swing at a bad pitch in the dirt, the second out was a fly out, and the third out was Rowand at the track. Kent's hit for that out looked gone to me immediately. Toward any other place in that park except dead-center, it would be. Walker did not do that smoothly, at all.

Then came the fun (no more evidence for this game). Taschner is now the setup man, apparently, and so got the ball in the eighth. (By now, of course, the Giant offense had committed to its default attitude of forcing the pitching to win the game - I believe it possible that we were hitless for the last 5 1/3 innings.) The best out was the second one, because newcomer Casey Blake was called out on a check swing. Now, I don't have a problem with Dodger fans wanting to see it as a bad call; I understand it. But Blake both crossed the plate with his bat, and had his bat angled towards the pitcher - even if just for a split-second, either of those things counts. Blake had done both. I won't argue it, but I was looking right at it, from the first base side, perpendicular to the right face of the plate. Blake argued it, because it was appealed to the 1B umpire, and after going into the dugout was then thrown out for God-knows-what by the home plate umpire. Blake ran from the dugout to the 1B umpire, for a moment as if it were an impending brawl. Welcome to the rivalry, Mr. Casey-At-The-Bat.

Then Torre was there with him; soon - and also inevitably - Torre was thrown out. I understand that you need to stand up for your players, and argue, but getting thrown out when you still have a (very) realistic chance at winning apart from a possible (but not actual) bad call is a huge mistake. The Dodgers never recovered from it, though Torre left to a standing ovation.

Something to further the weirdness was the arrest and manhandling of an errant and surprising fan by four or five security officers, who had to follow the man into the Giants' dugout. It was actually a bit frightening. We were on the 1B side, as I mentioned, and it was an absolute treat to see the boys in orange that close again (the first time in years, actually, because of the proximity to the dugout itself). But it also gave a great view for the man getting cuffed and carried out like a hot dog, being held face-down and parallel to the ground. I have no clue what he wanted, but he had a black jacket on and if he was a S.F. fan, that's completely uncalled for. I can understand if a Dodger fan gets in there because, hey, it's rivalry. But don't do that to your own team when they're losing a huge lead and just barely hanging onto it.

There was also the incident with Vizquel tossing his hat from the dugout to a lucky guy in the premiere box. This poor man then had it taken from him by a security guard so that Vizquel, obviously a little confused, had to give the man a ball instead. What, a player's hat is illegal to give out? Why? "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that could encourage a fan to keep being devoted to the game; I'll make sure not to do that ever again." What's next, no baseballs tossed to fans? I already miss the old-school gray on the under-bill of the cap, for autographing. Idiocy, everywhere. I don't get it.

But all is well that ends well. Brian Wilson is the workhorse of this team right now, without question. At least in his attitude. Aurilia has the attitude, and Lincecum and Cain have it by-default, but Wilson has it every day: the stonefire eyes, the chiseled stance, the passion, tenacity, and hardcore intensity that we've not seen since Nen, and perhaps Beck. For God's sake, the man threw one inning, struck out two, threw over 80% of his pitches for strikes, and hit 100mph or more on the radar at least five times. The man's a human animal.

I love it. I may even adopt his facial hair pattern.

-MSH

2 comments:

Ben White said...

Several points...

First, the only real kink in Ralph's argument is that he can't be shut down for the season if the Giants are working on building Tim's arm-strength (without over-doing it). Otherwise, I'd have to agree with him (and you) that he should have been left in that game.

As for the umpiring, the Giants did catch a few breaks (I had the benefit of replay). Blake was called out for two check swings. The first was pretty borderline. It was early in the game and he didn't argue it. The second more clearly crossed the plate, and he argued until being ejected from the game. However, an event occurred somewhere between those AB's to trigger such a reaction: one of the Giants (I wish I could remember now which one) checked a swing similar to Blake's second that was not called a strike. I think Blake was hoping for restitution. Would it have altered the game's outcome if either of his swings had been called as non-swings? Impossible to say, but it was a matter of principle at that point. Torre obviously was hoping to build momentum, on top of standing up for his player. His departure from the game shouldn't have a negative effect on his team, as you suggest. He was hoping to make it a rally point.

Finally, as for Ethier's catch, replay proved that he did actually catch it and the Giants caught a break (Krukow's argument, too). The ball did bounce from the tip of the glove into the heel, which to an umpire at a distance would have looked like it bouncing in front of the glove. Ethier would have no real way of knowing what happened with all the action, so he didn't argue the call. It looked to me like he was watching the runners, not the ball as it entered his glove anyway! Oh well for that.

I just thought I'd shed some replay light on some of those events. Like I said, I don't know how many directly affected the outcome of the game, but I hope to offer a clearer picture.

Mikey H. said...

Very welcome, sir!

Believe me, I have no idea where I stand on umpires being "right vs. consistent", and if I had seen the plays as breaks I would have agreed with Mike in a heartbeat. I didn't say anything about them during the game because, again, I just didn't have any way of knowing the truth about them. All I could do at that point (as any fan would do, I think) was accept it, keep going, and be willing to call it in light of further evidence. Which I can do now.

Any of those plays could have changed the game, especially because it was a one-run difference. Different pitching management aside, of course. I guess the only thing I can say is that it's a good example for how to continue the rivalry. ;)