Welcome Back

Call me "Magnum"

As you may have noticed, it's been a while since I've written in this space, and frankly, I'm a little rusty when it comes to my sportswriting chops. I've been locked into the political and nonprofit world for so long that I fear any mention of Pablo Sandoval's contract negotiations will come with an entirely unintentional diatribe about the history of organized labor and the power of solidarity. So bear with me, folks. It's gonna be a long, bumpy ride back to coherence.

So far as the team on the field is concerned, there's some added depth, and the lineup certainly has the potential to produce at a higher clip than we're accustomed to. But it all comes down to the health of the starting rotation and the dexterity of the bullpen. Unlike a lot of fans, I'm on board with pitching and defense as the backbone of a team that plays 81 times a year in a park built to reward pitching and defense. We were spoiled by the Bonds years into thinking 40-HR seasons could be the norm at McCovey Cove, but anyone with eyes and a brain can tell you that's fool's gold.

No, this team will rise and fall on the backs of the Bum, the Horse, the Freak, Huddy, and the Vongelsong. (Sounds like some hippie band from "Inside Llewyn Davis" when you say it like that.) If Matt Cain posts another 4-plus ERA; if Timmy can't translate his sabermetric superiority into W's for the team; if Vogey can't resurrect the attitude that put him on the All-Star team two years ago; if Hudson's ankle falls apart... There are just too many ifs to ponder. So let's not and hope for the best. After all, not like any of this is up to us. Right?

The Opening Night contest was a fun little excursion into Wackadooville. I tried to break down the game a million different ways, but this is the best I could do: Somebody won, somebody lost, errors were made. Madison Bumgarner was meh, but didn't exactly get shelled. Brandon Belt had a rollercoaster ride on the Twitter but eventually redeemed himself — and rewarded my faith in drafting him for my fantasy team (errors don't hurt my stats). And Buster Posey did... what Buster Posey does. Amazing what an added 10 pounds can do. Maybe I should hit Five Guys today and start a new regimen.

Talk to you soon. I hope.

So, who starts Game 3?

Why so serious?

It's been a while, but I'm not gonna bore you with a long disclaimer. If you really want to read my each and every thought, you're probably already following me on Twitter. Let's talk playoffs...

Told you guys the wild card game was a bad idea. But seriously: horrendous call; awful error by Chipper in his farewell game; sloppy, to say the least. The evening game went about like I expected. The O's should not be taken lightly. And you probably shouldn't fall behind them after the 7th inning, if that 75-0 record is to be believed. And I guess it is.

But what about the Giants? Well, what about them? I told you they'd be here, and they're here. Granted, they followed a path quite different from anything you or I expected. But they're here. And once you're here, anything is possible. Just ask Kevin Garnett.

Overall, I think the Reds and G's are a good matchup. Good to great starting pitching, even by Charlie Manuel's standards. Lineups that can score runs in bunches when everything's clicking. Live arms and personalities in the bullpens. And a couple master tacticians and veteran apologists pulling the strings. There will be pitching changes.

At first blanch, I don't think anyone likes the idea of the 2-3 NLDS format. The favorite would probably prefer a 3-2 setup. The dog might prefer to play more critical games 3 and 4 at home and try to "steal" one of the first two on the road. But the travel time just isn't there this year if we want to keep the World Series out of November, when the casual sports-watching world switches over to hoops and pigskin.

But you gotta like how this stacks up for a team like the Giants, who boast one of the best home field advantages in the league and played incredibly stout on the road in the second half. They've had bad patches at AT&T this season, with power outages and uncharacteristic collapses. But there's been very little fault to Matt Cain and Madison Bumgarner within the friendly confines in 2012. And they've both had success this season against the Reds – with and without Votto.

If the Giants can jump out 2-0, it's hard to imagine them getting swept in the 'Nati, especially with the Horse coming back in a decisive Game 5. The pressure would be on Dustiny's Children to be perfect, and it's not hard to envision a 3-and-out scenario if the Reds can't win one at the Cove. But this is Giants baseball. We all know that whatever happens, it's gonna be torture.

So let's go ahead and assume we're headed back to GABP at one game apiece. Who do you throw in the pivotal Game 3? It's been two months since the Giants lost with Barry Zito on the bump. Or has Tim Lincecum earned the right to take the pearl with the season in the balance? Regardless of who pitches, if they lose, we see Cain on short rest in Game 4.

Personally, I give it to Zito. And I'm not gonna lie, there's a lot of sentiment behind that pick. But the fact is, he's got his stuff going right now, the team feels confident behind him, and THEY HAVEN'T LOST A GAME HE'S PITCHED IN TWO MONTHS. I love Tim Lincecum and everything he's done for this team. But he hasn't been the same this year, for whatever reason, and we all know it. We can see it without looking at his FIP or WHIP.

So let's stop wetting the bed over this and go with what makes sense. And wouldn't it be a great story if Zeets goes out there and dominates? Seriously. Ink for days...

BTW

I'm already on record on the Twitter thingy, but I'll say it here just to be sure: Ryan Vogelsong is going to come up huge in some capacity in October. Maybe he'll do his best impersonation of Affeldt in Game 6 against the Phillies in 2010. Perhaps he'll pull an extra-inning assignment in a marathon Game 2 and get the walk off hit in the bottom of the 15th. Whatever may occur, Vogey has earned his place in Giants lore, and I hope he gets his moment in the spotlight. I just hope Joe Buck is sick that day...

——

Okay, I guess I can't get away without some grander predictions. I could go back to the picks I made in a #HeatCheck blog that never was about three weeks ago, but it wouldn't make much sense given the eight teams remaining in the current idiom. Suffice it to say I had the A's winning the West and someone else didn't even mention them in the playoff picture. #Butchtradamus

Here's who I have in the final three rounds:

NLDS
Giants d. Reds
Cardinals d. Nationals

ALDS
A's d. Tigers
Yankees d. Orioles

LCS
Giants d. Cardinals
Yankees d. A's

WORLD SERIES
Giants d. Yankees

I'll be honest. I think we might be headed for a Bay Bridge Series, but I'm convinced the A's would win, which I can't bring myself to predict. Yes, I feel ashamed.

Enjoy Cueto-Cain, e'rybody.

What's the matter with Tim-my?

First off, he's not a bum, and it disgusts me a little to see him being treated as such on he blogs and the Twitters and the interwebs. Everyody needs to chill the mess out for a second and remember all the memories this kid has brought us in his relatively short time in the Orange and Black...

Okay, now that we've paid reverence to the past, what about the present?

On paper, and in life, it's pretty much a mixed bag. Throw out the wildly inconsistent innings in which he's been lit up like the White House Christmas Tree, and his numbers look halfway decent. Throw out the W/L record, and his K/9 is still above average. The walks are troublesome, but like the runs, they're mostly coming in bunches – after all, walks and runs go together like Dylan Hernandez and In-N-Out. (Rimshot!)

It's not like we haven't seen this movie before. Remember this guy? How many times did we curse his name for throwing four perfect innings with seven strikeouts wrapped around one inning when he melted down and gave up the farm? All the talent in the world and probably the best pure stuff on an All-Star staff, but ne'er the personality to harness it.

Seems like los Gigantes are burdened with a number of anxiety-ridden players. Not surprising. Baseball can be an anxiety-inducing sport. Most of the action comes during times of inaction, when the mind and the heart are sent racing with all the possibilities of what could result from the next pitch, the next swing, the next short hop...

But compared to other clubs, the Giants seem to have a higher percentage of dudes with very little barrier between the deep recesses of their subconscious and their waking mind. I'm not gonna name names, but if you follow this team, you know exactly who I'm talking about. Maybe that's fitting for a squad from psychedelic San Francisco. But it doesn't help when your goal is winning championships.

And that's exactly what Timmy's done his whole career, in the professional and amateur ranks...

• He won the Golden Spikes Award his senior year at UW and set a Pac-10 record for strikeouts.

• He made a grand total of 13 minor league starts between Salem-Kaizer, San José, and Fresno.

• He took home Cy Young Awards his first two full seasons in the Show.

• And in his third full season, he overcame the first adverse month of his career and led his team to its first World Series title in over 50 years.

All of this despite coaches, scouts, and other baseball know-it-alls attempting to convince the rest of us that he never had a shot at greatness because he was just too small. This kid's been confounding expectations every step of the way, and I get the distinct impression he loves doing it.

A lot has been made of Chris Lincecum's remarks to USA Today accusing the media of bashing Tim and his legacy. In my humble opinion, dad needs to shut his trap. The beat writers have a job to do, but it's not disrespecting anyone to point out the fact that his kid has a 6-plus ERA and the team is 2-12 in his starts.

I paid more attention to Tim's comments in the same article about lacking confidence in his stuff and putting the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I've never gone through anything like this in my life. I've set the bar high for myself, and I know I'm not coming through. I've been wearing these (expletive) losses hard. Real hard. This game is my passion, and this is killing me. I know I'm going to come out of this eventually. I just wish I knew when.

That's a pretty heady quote to read from the alleged ace of your team's starting staff. But let's focus for a second on one line from the quote: "I've set the bar high for myself." If you want to know what I think is buggin' Timmy (and doesn't everybody?), that's the kernel of truth upon which I'll hang my hat.

Think of a kid who loves video games. Plays 'em so much, he gets bored testing his mettle against better and better computer opponents at higher and higher difficulty levels, until one day, he's got nothing left to prove to himself, and he chucks the game in a pile with his other conquests.

That's how I look at Timmy right now. Throughout his career, playing baseball has been like a video game, and he's been dominating at each and every level. He had a slight hiccup in August 2010, when his thumb slipped off the controller thanks to some leftover potato chip grease. But he picked himself off the mat and beasted for another calendar year.

Then, sometime late last season, he realized that he's already beaten all the levels of this game. He's got nothing left to prove. The only challenge left is the next start. The next inning. The next batter. The next pitch. And every now and then, it doesn't seem like enough of a challenge.

So he loses focus. And when he loses focus, he loses intensity, and when he loses intensity, he loses his edge, and it's that edge that's put him where he is today. If you want a professional second opinion on this, check out Bengie Molina's comments to my friend Dan Brown at the Merc.

There's a consistent buzz on Twitter about the drop in velocity from his halcyon days of humping 96-97 in the 8th inning. But he's not getting any younger, and this happens to every pitcher. Like Bengie says, the dude's still got the stuff – hence the 1+ K/9 average – he just needs to learn how to pitch again. But to do that, he's got to have the desire.

So if Ryan Vogelsong said anything to Timmy in the dugout after his near-disaster first inning against the A's on Friday night, I'm guessing it went something like this:

Dude, you know what I've gone through in my career, and I wouldn't give it up for anything, because the challenge and the heartache and the pain has made me stronger as a player – and a man. But I might be tempted to give all that up if I could switch places with you for one night and know what it's like to be the most feared son of a bitch in the baseball universe.

We'll find out today if the lesson stuck. Good luck, Timmy.

——

#TheFreakWhisperer

This was Vogelsong following a loss to Jered Weaver and the Angels last Wednesday:

For me to get people to start to believe that I’m for real, I’ve got to beat the Kershaws, the Weavers. I wasn’t able to do that tonight and that’s disappointing. I still feel I’ve got something to prove every time I step on the field. For people to stop thinking last year was a fluke... those are the games I’ve got to win.

Want to guess how many runs the Giants' offense posted for Ryan that night? I'll give you a second to think about it... If you answered, "Zero, zip, none," you're the winner of a set of steak knives.

This is why we call the man Vogelstrong. He has the attitude you want to see out of your entire pitching staff: "So what if we got shutout? I should've won that game." That's not to mention that he'd already beaten Kershaw once this season – and just did so again.

I don't know what the future portends for this wandering soul, but man oh man if he isn't leaving us a pair of the most gritty and triumphant seasons we've ever seen as a memory to impart to our grandkids...

Eat your Wheaties, and play like Ryan Vogelsong!

OMFG! Spring Training!!!

© SB Nation Bay Area 2012

Alright, everybody. Take a deep breath... Hold it... Now let it out, slowly... There, doesn't that feel better?

Every year around mid-February, I'm consistently shocked by how shocked I am that fans get so damn hyphy for the beginning of baseball operations in Arizona. Seems like there's enough hunger among the faithful to rival a medium-sized third-world nation – or Detroit.

Obeying Newton's laws and taking advantage of today's 24-second news cycle, the beat writers come along for the ride, tweeting and blogging updates every time Brian Wilson blows his nose or Tim Lincecum ponders an In-N-Out run.

Today was a prime example, as Giantsland was rocked by news of Wilson throwing off a mound for 15 whole minutes, Charlie Culberson dropping a weight on his finger, and Ryan #Vogelstrong tweaking a muscle in his back and coming down with a cold.

It's enough to make you wonder: Does the media obsess over this stuff because we do, or do we obsess over this stuff because modern technology makes it so darn obsess-ible? I mean, accessible.

Second verse, same as the first...

Can't believe it's been two weeks since I last spoke to you in more than 140-character bursts. Oh, well, that's the life I lead. As everyone else begins to relax and take a little vacay, I tend to get busy keeping myself organized. Probably why I love baseball so much. It feeds right into my obsessive compulsions. There's no shortage of stats or highlights or sabermetrics to keep my mind occupied until the wee morning hours as I stare out the window wondering... "Do I dare to eat a peach?"

This, of course, is a very long-winded — Dickensian, if you will — manner of apologizing for leaving you hanging. But then again, I sincerely doubt you lacked for online entertainment in my absence from the blogosphere. There are, as I've discovered, other baseball blogs out there. Besides, the mini-hiatus gave me time to come to a few epiphanies about our 2011 San Francisco Giants, and damned if I don't feel a little lighter in the shoulder region. I'll share them with you now in the stead of another cookie-cutter midseason report...