There is no crying in baseball. But there is horror. Pure, unadulterated horror... No matter which player had ended up in a heap at the plate in the 12th inning of Wednesday night's loss to the Marlins, it would have been a horrific sight, a horrific moment, a deafening breach in the veneer of baseball, the gentleman's sport, our national pastime. Indeed, I thought I had gone deaf, as the very soul was sucked out of the crowd in one unconscious gasp, and suddenly you could hear creaking masts on yachts parked in the marina, seagulls in the distance impatiently awaiting their evening feast, water lapping on the shores of McCovey Cove. To say it was quiet in the house just does not do it justice. That is as soft a crowd as has ever graced the stands at 24 Willie Mays Plaza.
Ruminations on the San Francisco Giants and the game of baseball, written by someone who knows both
27 May 2011
24 May 2011
Steal this game.
Manny awaits his big moment | Photo by Ash Kalra |
Well, a funny thing happened on the way to what would have been certain defeat even two years ago. Bob Geren lifted Gio during a futile 7th inning rally and turned the game over to the vaunted A's bullpen (#sarcasm), Miguel Tejada got his second (second!) hit of the afternoon, and Nasty Nate Schierholtz from San Ramon Valley got just enough of a mistake on the inner half to launch it into the Arcade just inside the fair pole. Tie game. Two innings later, after a refreshingly dominant performance from Sergio "Heart-Crushing Two-Strike Gopher Ball Victim" Romo, @DarRunFord and his BFF Manny Burriss formed like Black Voltron to send the home team and its spoiled fan base home in hysterics... once again.
07 May 2011
Back to the Torture
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