THE SPORTS BOTTOM - October 25, 2010
To borrow a phrase from the late, great Jack Buck, “Go crazy, Folks! Go crazy!”
And that’s exactly what happened this past Saturday evening, at approximately 8 PM local time, here in San Francisco. Brian Wilson, of Fear-the-Beard fame, pitched the final five outs against the Philadelphia Phillies and got Ryan Howard looking for strike three to clinch the National League Pennant for the San Francisco Giants.
The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!
What a series. Simply unreal. Do the Giants have the best pitching staff ever? Maybe. Maybe not. But the rotation of Timmy Lincecum, Matty (Ralph Malph) Cain, Jonathan Sanchez and Madison “Mad Dog” Bumgarner is pretty tough to beat. Throw in a bullpen that’s getting stronger and stronger as it gets colder an wetter outside, and Brian “Beard” Wilson closing things out, and the Giants pitching is rock solid.
I was fortunate to go to Game Four of the N.L.C.S. at AT&T Park, the 6-5 Giants win on a “walk off” sacrifice fly. Unreal. The electricity in the stadium that evening, I’ve never seen anything like it before. The crowd roared on every pitch.
We had “standing room only” tickets, which were great, about 10 feet to the left of the right field fair pole. We stood in front of McCovey Cove. The view was amazing, until something happened and everyone in front of us stood up. Couldn’t see a gawd-damn thing. Did I or my buddy Jenny (if you ever get a chance to go to a game with Jenny, playoffs or regular season, DO IT!) mind or complain? Oh hell no.
I (and Jenny also, as it turned out) had never been to a major league playoff game before. It was mind-blowingly exciting. Every pitch. Every out. Every baserunner. I hugged everyone standing around us at least five times. The crowd was jovial. We were all just happy to be there, screaming and yelling, sweating and bleeding our beloved Giants to victory.
And it worked. Giants won 6-5. Led the series 3-1. Timmy pitching Game Five at home. How could we lose? Clinching the pennant in front of the home fans. Yes.
Except that the Giants played probably their worst game of the post season. Errors, bad umpire calls, mostly errors and lack of clutch hitting, and the Phillies survived to play another day, winning Game Five 4-2.
Off to Philly for Games Six and Seven, if needed. The Giants’ history in clinching playoff series’ on the road was not good. 1987, lost the final two games in St. Louis to lose the pennant. 2002, lost the final two games to Anaheim on the road to lose the World Series, blowing a five run lead in Game Six late in the game. Uh oh. There were/are reasons the Giants have yet to win a World Series title since moving to San Francisco. Oh dear...
Saturday rolled around. Personally I was torn because my beloved Mizzou Tigers were playing the then-B.C.S. number one ranked Oklahoma Sooners on national TV at the exact time the Giants were playing. I chose to support my beloved Giants, as the World Series was on the line.
Got my business done on Saturday and met up with “the gang”, my group of buddies and friends that I’ve watched most of the Giants’ playoff games with this autumn. Went to the Stray Bar in Bernal Heights (cheap plug, yeah, your welcome, Karen) for cheap beer and couches.
Could the Giants win it in Six and avoid anything having to do with a Game Seven in Philadelphia? Could they? Could we? Giants fall behind by two. Sanchez is struggling. My buddy Brad is pleading with Bochy to pull him.
Giants rally to tie the game. Sanchez is pulled in bottom of the third. Just have to say one thing about that inning: totally weak on Chase Utley’s part, throwing the ball back to Sanchez after getting hit. Yeah you got hit. Was it intentional? Are you freaking serious? Of course not. Very immature and unprofessional on your part. That was what was “such bullshit”, as you couldn’t seem to figure out after it happened.
Anyway, back to the game. Could the Giants bullpen hold up for basically seven innings? Oh geez. That’s a long time.
Back and forth. Giants don’t score. Phillies don’t score. Eighth inning. Who would step up? Who’d be the hero?
U-RIBE!!! UUUUU-RIIIIIBE!!! Juan Uribe hits a solo homer in the top of the eighth. Giants up 3-2. Six outs away from the pennant.
Timmy Lincecum comes in to pitch in relief. First guy, OUT! Next two get base hits. Oh no. Five more outs needed. Timmy was struggling.
Bochy emerged and in came Beard Wilson.
Five outs to go.
Wilson got the final two outs in the eighth. Giants go down in the top of the ninth.
Three outs to go.
Wilson got the first out. Drama building. Folks in the bar, myself included, screaming and howling at the top of our lungs. Wilson got the second out. Are we gonna do it? Is this really happening.
Howard’s up. No homers and no RBI for the series. Surely he’d do something here. STRIKE THREE CALLED! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!
Folks in Bernal Heights took to the streets, high-fiving total strangers and hugging people as they walked by. Cars were honking. People were shooting off fireworks. I rode in a cab down Mission from Bernal Heights to the Excelsior. It was a madhouse. Giants fans literally pouring into the streets. Flags waving. Pom poms waving. People hugging and cheering. Me hanging out the cab window waving my Rally Rag. What a scene. Haven’t seen a city reaction to a baseball game like that since the Running Redbirds days of the St. Louis Cardinals during the 1980s.
Game One of the World Series begins Wednesday. Beat Texas! Less Texas in America! Can the Giants win it all? Can they bring the World Series trophy to San Francisco? Finally? Why the hell not?
The last two world weeks have been incredible. Why stop now? Why not wave Aubrey’s red thong and profess our communal love for Cody Ross down Market Street during a championship parade?
Why not? The torture continues.
Fear the Beard!
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