The good news is that this was the first-ever meeting of S.F. and L.A. in the spring in 30 years. Seriously. The Dodgers used to be in Florida. FLORIDA. Really. Who practices on the East Coast of the United States when playing on the West Coast of the United States. Dodgers. That's who. ;) Jon teased Ken Levine by saying he was "once a well-known radio broadcaster, and now works for the Dodgers". Ken Levine caught it. Jon said, "well, it's the Dodgers; what do you expect?" Jovial, but classic. I did hear from guest Charlie Steiner that the Dodgers extended the contract to Manny Ramirez (for those of you following big-name signings). I'd be happy to see we do not get him.
Some notable players: Ishikawa and Aurilia.
The bad news is that it was just spring training. It was entertaining, but our pitching and eventually the Dodger fielding just blew up. 6-0 L.A., then we took advantage of backup fielding and cut it to 6-4. Then 6-5. Next 10-5, though Velez made a fantastic throw from the outfield behind 2B (he also hit well after finally coming in). Of our recent bullpen signings, Howry did well and Affeldt--well, I hope Affeldt was just trying to fine-tune a particular pitch in a particular location, because they lit him up. I'll spare you the rest of the details:
FINAL
L.A. - 16
S.F. - 7
Oy.
Showing posts with label Dodgers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dodgers. Show all posts
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, August 11, 2008
The Comeback Kids
This was the most exciting weekend I've seen this year from S.F. It also helps affirm my upbringing never to leave a game before it's over, even when it's late and cold.
Proof: two consecutive last-chance comebacks against the Dodgers at home. This is our first winning homestand of the season (which is sad, but huge), and our first series win over L.A.
Here's a quick run-down, though I don't want to simply recap what you can find at the wrap for Friday, at the wrap for Saturday, at the wrap for Sunday, or at the recap of the entire thing.
Friday:
Zito gives up five runs in five innings. That's enough.
Saturday:
Bonds shows up to the 50th Anniversary OF ceremony, walking in from LF while Mays, his godfather, walks in from CF. Mays was thankful; Bonds was humorous. "I just have to say that it's odd not being in uniform and the Dodgers are right there" (pointing and looking ominously to the dugout), "Torre, I beat you before, and I'll beat you again", and of course the awkward but eventually amusing end: "I haven't retired; thank you."
Correia pitches six solid innings; Billy Sadler pitches two beautifully complete innings in relief (including striking out Manny Ramirez in a close situation to end a game-blowing threat); The Manimal does not blow the game even though he wasn't in a save situation; Walker blows the game, giving up a solo shot to Kent in the 10th, but gets rescued; Roberts goes 3-3 with two leadoff doubles; S.F. gets a walk-off win after Roberts doubles, Winn singles, Burriss reaches after an error-throw home (scoring Roberts), Ochoa gets HBP, and Rowand singles after previously going 0-3 to win the game. Sadler's outing would later become a huge debate, because, just up from the minors, he fist-pumped this strikeout or Ramirez, which caused Kent to give a glare to our bullpen when hitting the go-ahead HR; that glare, in turn, probably fired us up enough to put them away. Good, old-fashioned S.F.-L.A. baseball.
Sunday:
Cain pitches well, though it wasn't his best start. He did manage to hit Manny Ramirez in the first inning, though if one looks at the replay, because Manny bent down he got hit in the head instead of, oh, getting hit in the hamstring or perhaps not at all. Winn gets all three of our first runs somehow, either with a single early or a double mid-late in the game. Ramirez gave the Dodgers the lead with a 2-run double late, but that wasn't enough for the Dodger 'pen. Winn led off with a single in the 9th, going 3-4 that day. A botched bunt pop-up by Vizquel and a perfect DP-ball thanks to Mr. Castillo wasn't even enough, because the newly-acquired Blake had an error at 3B off that DP-ball, and Kuo couldn't handle a soft grounder from Velez (who ran it out, thank God) -- walk-off win again.
No question: the best weekend of the season. I was so hoarse from Saturday night that I couldn't speak regularly for half of Sunday, and I still can't sing normally in my usual range.
-MSH
Proof: two consecutive last-chance comebacks against the Dodgers at home. This is our first winning homestand of the season (which is sad, but huge), and our first series win over L.A.
Here's a quick run-down, though I don't want to simply recap what you can find at the wrap for Friday, at the wrap for Saturday, at the wrap for Sunday, or at the recap of the entire thing.
Friday:
Zito gives up five runs in five innings. That's enough.
Saturday:
Bonds shows up to the 50th Anniversary OF ceremony, walking in from LF while Mays, his godfather, walks in from CF. Mays was thankful; Bonds was humorous. "I just have to say that it's odd not being in uniform and the Dodgers are right there" (pointing and looking ominously to the dugout), "Torre, I beat you before, and I'll beat you again", and of course the awkward but eventually amusing end: "I haven't retired; thank you."
Correia pitches six solid innings; Billy Sadler pitches two beautifully complete innings in relief (including striking out Manny Ramirez in a close situation to end a game-blowing threat); The Manimal does not blow the game even though he wasn't in a save situation; Walker blows the game, giving up a solo shot to Kent in the 10th, but gets rescued; Roberts goes 3-3 with two leadoff doubles; S.F. gets a walk-off win after Roberts doubles, Winn singles, Burriss reaches after an error-throw home (scoring Roberts), Ochoa gets HBP, and Rowand singles after previously going 0-3 to win the game. Sadler's outing would later become a huge debate, because, just up from the minors, he fist-pumped this strikeout or Ramirez, which caused Kent to give a glare to our bullpen when hitting the go-ahead HR; that glare, in turn, probably fired us up enough to put them away. Good, old-fashioned S.F.-L.A. baseball.
Sunday:
Cain pitches well, though it wasn't his best start. He did manage to hit Manny Ramirez in the first inning, though if one looks at the replay, because Manny bent down he got hit in the head instead of, oh, getting hit in the hamstring or perhaps not at all. Winn gets all three of our first runs somehow, either with a single early or a double mid-late in the game. Ramirez gave the Dodgers the lead with a 2-run double late, but that wasn't enough for the Dodger 'pen. Winn led off with a single in the 9th, going 3-4 that day. A botched bunt pop-up by Vizquel and a perfect DP-ball thanks to Mr. Castillo wasn't even enough, because the newly-acquired Blake had an error at 3B off that DP-ball, and Kuo couldn't handle a soft grounder from Velez (who ran it out, thank God) -- walk-off win again.
No question: the best weekend of the season. I was so hoarse from Saturday night that I couldn't speak regularly for half of Sunday, and I still can't sing normally in my usual range.
-MSH
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Joys and Sorrows
For talking trash about ESPN, now I get to talk trash about Manny Ramirez on a regular basis. Welcome to the rivalry, Manny. This is going to be FUN...
Unfortunately, L.A. didn't have to give up anything, and they probably won't waste the money on Ramirez's option next year, either. [Mild language here - not really.]
In other news, the Giants did nothing. [Really, mild language here.]
-MSH
Unfortunately, L.A. didn't have to give up anything, and they probably won't waste the money on Ramirez's option next year, either. [Mild language here - not really.]
In other news, the Giants did nothing. [Really, mild language here.]
-MSH
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
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
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