Baseball '09, Volume Whatever: Three Days of the Horsehide, Part II
TUESDAY, JUNE 9TH: Giants versus Diamondbacks. KNBR AM Radio.
"Oh no, here we go again," is a phrase I've said too often over the years when following the Giants, partly because I'm a melodramatic pessimist when it comes to sports, but also because the Giants, time and time again, have "oh no, there they've gone again."
In the second inning of the Giants-Diamondbacks game, after Juan Uribe--nephew of 80's Giants stalwart Jose Uribe--knocked a home run--and is there any radio call more exciting than a home run, specifically for your team?--Matt Cain promptly surrendered two runs on a homer and a collection of hits. Matt Cain is more than able as a pitcher, but has suffered for years with no run support; he had been off to a great start this year, finally getting some help, and entering this game, he was 7-1. It would be a little ironic if the wheels finally came off his control when there was offense behind him.
I shut off the radio and went to do laundry.
When I came back, though I turned the radio back on. Not necessarily because I'm getting better about quitting when my team is struggling, but because I'm addicted to this stuff.
The Giants were down 4-2. Cain had surrendered another homer. Bleh.
But then in the 5th, the Giants scored three runs, highlighted by an error on Justin Upton and a home run by Pablo Sandoval. And then, oddly for the Giants, they decided that scoring multiple runs was so much fun that they might as well do it again in the 6th, this time with the aid of a couple of wild pitches from Arizona's pitcher. All of a sudden, it was 8-4 Giants, and my evening suddenly felt a lot more relaxing. Rhythms of baseball on the radio shift when your team is winning big.
At the start of the year, I saw a lot of miscues and mistakes on the part of the Giants; it was refreshing to see those from the beneficiary's standpoint. The Giants added one more insurance run in the ninth, again thanks in part to a defensive lapse, but otherwise, that's how the score stood, a one-sided victory on the radio becoming a soothing bedtime story.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 10TH: Oakland versus Minnesota, Oakland-Alameda Coliseum.
After work, Vaughn and I met at Powell Street BART Station, tocatch a Fremont-bound train to the East Bay. When I went to the Oakland-Boston game in April, the train was stuffed full of commuters and fans, almost painfully so. This time was much more peaceful.
The train is mostly underground, of course, but for the trip to the Coliseum it is above ground for the West Oakland Station and between Lake Merritt and the Coliseum stop, taking in the Fruitvale stop where Oscar Grant was shot and killed by a BART police officer. Fruitvale offers a panorama of a flat section of the city, somewhat decrepit, and worse by reputation, fairly or not. West Oakland offers a view of the shipyards and the freeways, parking lots for semi-trucks, and a distant view of downtown offices. But that is the sort of industrial view I have assembled of Oakland, and that impression lends itself as well to the Coliseum, for better or for worse.
The crowd flowed down from the platform, through the exit gates, and towards the elevated walkway that would carry us over to the stadium itself. A jazz musician in a green coat and sunglasses was playing a lively version of Take Me Out To The Ballgame, and then it modulated into something vaguely different. It took me a moment to place that he was playing Somewhere Over The Rainbow.
Crossing the bridge, which is a giant concrete slab bordered by high chain-link fences that bend in at the top, always makes me think of prison. Some guys are standing in the flood of people, asking "Anyone selling tickets? Tickets? Anyone selling?" Five yards farther on we pass some different guys asking, "Anyone need a ticket?" We think about pointing out that they should talk to that first group of guys.
Sights and sounds from the game, in list format:
1) Never pitch to Joe Mauer. Just don't do it. He's batting over .400, singled in the first after two outs--only to be thrown out at third advancing on Morneau's follow up single, thanks to a great play by Rajai Davis, who is blossoming in the East Bay. So when he came up with a runner on third and first base open, two outs in the top of the fourth, and works the count to three balls and one strike, I think, Don't give him anything to hit. Just walk him. Then again, they don't pay me to make these decisions. Dallas Braden pitched to Joe Mauer, who rapped it smoothly to center field.
2) Double plays are heartbreakers. After giving up two runs in the top of the fourth inning, Oakland rallied with back-to-back singles from Davis and Jack Hannahan, Davis hustling all the way to third. But then Orlando grounded into a double play that wiped out Hannahan. Davis scored, but that double play killed the rally, and that is emotionally deflating.
3) Matt Holliday and Kurt Suzuki whacked back to back doubles, and Rajai Davis added an RBI single, and the A's were back in the game . . .
4) and then the bullpen came in and promptly went to hell, Michael Wuertz giving up a home run to the first batter and then closer Andrew Bailey conceding a triple and two wild pitches among a barrage of Minnesota offense in the ninth that broke Oakland's spirit . . .
5) but at least the hot chocolate was excellent this time, none of that cup of watery tripe I had last time, that felt like half of it must have spilled before I ever bought it.
And of course, the giant pretzel was sensational as always.
"Oh no, here we go again," is a phrase I've said too often over the years when following the Giants, partly because I'm a melodramatic pessimist when it comes to sports, but also because the Giants, time and time again, have "oh no, there they've gone again."
In the second inning of the Giants-Diamondbacks game, after Juan Uribe--nephew of 80's Giants stalwart Jose Uribe--knocked a home run--and is there any radio call more exciting than a home run, specifically for your team?--Matt Cain promptly surrendered two runs on a homer and a collection of hits. Matt Cain is more than able as a pitcher, but has suffered for years with no run support; he had been off to a great start this year, finally getting some help, and entering this game, he was 7-1. It would be a little ironic if the wheels finally came off his control when there was offense behind him.
I shut off the radio and went to do laundry.
When I came back, though I turned the radio back on. Not necessarily because I'm getting better about quitting when my team is struggling, but because I'm addicted to this stuff.
The Giants were down 4-2. Cain had surrendered another homer. Bleh.
But then in the 5th, the Giants scored three runs, highlighted by an error on Justin Upton and a home run by Pablo Sandoval. And then, oddly for the Giants, they decided that scoring multiple runs was so much fun that they might as well do it again in the 6th, this time with the aid of a couple of wild pitches from Arizona's pitcher. All of a sudden, it was 8-4 Giants, and my evening suddenly felt a lot more relaxing. Rhythms of baseball on the radio shift when your team is winning big.
At the start of the year, I saw a lot of miscues and mistakes on the part of the Giants; it was refreshing to see those from the beneficiary's standpoint. The Giants added one more insurance run in the ninth, again thanks in part to a defensive lapse, but otherwise, that's how the score stood, a one-sided victory on the radio becoming a soothing bedtime story.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 10TH: Oakland versus Minnesota, Oakland-Alameda Coliseum.
After work, Vaughn and I met at Powell Street BART Station, tocatch a Fremont-bound train to the East Bay. When I went to the Oakland-Boston game in April, the train was stuffed full of commuters and fans, almost painfully so. This time was much more peaceful.
The train is mostly underground, of course, but for the trip to the Coliseum it is above ground for the West Oakland Station and between Lake Merritt and the Coliseum stop, taking in the Fruitvale stop where Oscar Grant was shot and killed by a BART police officer. Fruitvale offers a panorama of a flat section of the city, somewhat decrepit, and worse by reputation, fairly or not. West Oakland offers a view of the shipyards and the freeways, parking lots for semi-trucks, and a distant view of downtown offices. But that is the sort of industrial view I have assembled of Oakland, and that impression lends itself as well to the Coliseum, for better or for worse.
The crowd flowed down from the platform, through the exit gates, and towards the elevated walkway that would carry us over to the stadium itself. A jazz musician in a green coat and sunglasses was playing a lively version of Take Me Out To The Ballgame, and then it modulated into something vaguely different. It took me a moment to place that he was playing Somewhere Over The Rainbow.
Crossing the bridge, which is a giant concrete slab bordered by high chain-link fences that bend in at the top, always makes me think of prison. Some guys are standing in the flood of people, asking "Anyone selling tickets? Tickets? Anyone selling?" Five yards farther on we pass some different guys asking, "Anyone need a ticket?" We think about pointing out that they should talk to that first group of guys.
Sights and sounds from the game, in list format:
1) Never pitch to Joe Mauer. Just don't do it. He's batting over .400, singled in the first after two outs--only to be thrown out at third advancing on Morneau's follow up single, thanks to a great play by Rajai Davis, who is blossoming in the East Bay. So when he came up with a runner on third and first base open, two outs in the top of the fourth, and works the count to three balls and one strike, I think, Don't give him anything to hit. Just walk him. Then again, they don't pay me to make these decisions. Dallas Braden pitched to Joe Mauer, who rapped it smoothly to center field.
2) Double plays are heartbreakers. After giving up two runs in the top of the fourth inning, Oakland rallied with back-to-back singles from Davis and Jack Hannahan, Davis hustling all the way to third. But then Orlando grounded into a double play that wiped out Hannahan. Davis scored, but that double play killed the rally, and that is emotionally deflating.
3) Matt Holliday and Kurt Suzuki whacked back to back doubles, and Rajai Davis added an RBI single, and the A's were back in the game . . .
4) and then the bullpen came in and promptly went to hell, Michael Wuertz giving up a home run to the first batter and then closer Andrew Bailey conceding a triple and two wild pitches among a barrage of Minnesota offense in the ninth that broke Oakland's spirit . . .
5) but at least the hot chocolate was excellent this time, none of that cup of watery tripe I had last time, that felt like half of it must have spilled before I ever bought it.
And of course, the giant pretzel was sensational as always.
posted by Devin at 7:23 PM
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