Despite the Giants’ firm grasp on last place, the Dodgers’ success, Brad Penny’s 13-1, 2.51 line, the Bonds fiasco reaching its boiling point and Ray Durham’s reluctance to return our fan letters, we are really looking forward to this three-game set. Maybe it’s because we need a break from the Dog Days of Summer. Maybe it’s because the odds say the Giants gotta beat the Dodgers sometime.
Nah, it’s just that whole Giants-Dodgers thing.
On September 17, 1997, Barry Bonds’ now-famous “twirl home run” knocked the Dodgers out of the race and scarred them for nearly ten beautiful years. [LA Times]
Barry might not play tonight, which would really piss off Dodger fans. [SFGate]
On August 2nd, before the series finale, the Dodgers will hold a two-hour pregame steroid awareness clinic on the field for youngsters. Subtle AND classy, those Dodgers. [100% Injury Rate]
We’re not the only Zito Apologists out there! [El Lefty Malo]
Rod Beck’s family received a very warm welcome in the Bay this weekend. [ESPN]
A-Rod isn’t exactly a lock to break the record that everyone thinks he is. But he likes strippers. So he’s got that going for himself. Which is nice. [100% Injury Rate]
Even though the A’s and Giants appear to be in similar dire straits, Bruce Jenkins thinks Oakland is in a much, much better position. We’re inclined to agree. [SFGate]
An open letter to Jay Mariotti, who called Giants fans “unconditionally glorifying sheep.” [McCovey Chronicles]
On Sunday, Sports Illustrated’s Tom Verducci wrote that hitting number 756 outside of San Francisco would be a disaster. So, about that … [SI]
Oh, and Buddy Boy will be in attendance tonight. [ESPN]
BREAKING: Matt Morris traded to Pittsburgh for speedy centerfielder Rajai Davis. [MSNBC]
Before we share our own (brief) thoughts on Bill Walsh, we encourage all readers to allot some internet time to check out the Bill Walsh Tribute at SFGate. There is a plethora of articles, photo galleries and memories, all worth your attention and reflection.
You know, when growing up, you don’t really admire coaches.
They’re just there, in the background. In eyes of a starry-eyed kid, the Will Clarks of the sports world always seem to eclipse the Roger Craigs. It was the same with the Bash Brothers and Tony LaRussa. You just don’t appreciate the genius of the coach until you get older, start playing the sport, begin to understand the depth of the game and so on.
Obviously, with the likes of Joe, Steve, Jerry and Ronnie, the great 49ers teams of the ’80s had plenty of star power, but in retrospect, is there any doubt at all that Bill Walsh was the greatest member of that dynasty?
His accomplishments are staggering. I won’t go into them–others on the tribute page have been doing it better than we could–but, as a sports fan and a young professional, Bill Walsh was the epitome of everything right with the world.
It’s hard to put into words, but there’s a feeling I get when I see this old footage of Walsh on the news. It’s a flashback to the past, only this time, I have the ability to appreciate his greatness and humility, if that makes sense.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this: in terms of sports and life, I can’t think of a better inspiration than Bill Walsh. On some level (or at some point), everyone likes to believe they are special, that they are an innovator and that they will succeed by doing things “the right way.”
Walsh affirmed those dreams. I can’t think of anything more inspiring.
[Sorry for the nonsensical reflections. Feel free to share your own in the comments section.]
In the first padded practice of training camp, budding superstar RB somehow broke his right hand during a non-contact ball-handling drill:
… Coach Mike Nolan said he would not practice with the team for the remainder of the week. Gore will be re-evaluated next Monday, and Nolan expects him to return to practice then with a cast on his hand.
“He’ll be ready for the latter part of preseason, but his participating in the preseason, we’ll wait and see on that,” Nolan said.
Gore has a long history with injuries already (he’s had surgeries on both knees and both shoulders; heavens Frankie), but the bigger problem may be his propensity for putting the ball on the ground. He already fumbled six times last year, and this latest injury can’t be good in that department.
This can’t be a good omen for the trendy darkhorse pick to win the NL West. Is this a fluke accident that will be forgotten by opening day or the first indications that heavy expectations may weigh the Niners down?
With the recent hubbub over The Simpsons Movie, we decided to take a page out of the Boston Globe’s book and applied the treasure trove of time-wasters, the Simpsonizer, to your favorite Bay Area superstars and ours, from Senor Bonds to Baron to Miss Jessica Alba and more…
With Sunday’s 20-year anniversary celebration of the 1987 San Francisco Giants, we thought we’d revisit the division-winning team as well.
The ‘87 squad was a fun bunch that came of age just two years after the franchise-worst 1985 campaign. Youngsters like Will Clark and Robby Thompson finally came into their own, and free agent additions like Jose Uribe, Rick Reuschel and Candy Maldonado solidified the team. But, as Rick Hurd writes, Roger Craig brought the team together in the friendly confines of the ‘Stick:
Then there was Roger Craig, the manager hired by Rosen late in 1985. He brought a relentlessly optimistic outlook to the manager’s chair. Craig instilled a unique rallying cry — “Humm Baby” — and sold his players that even if the home conditions were miserable, the home tenants didn’t have to be.
“Guys had always complained about how cold it was at Candlestick, how miserable it was,” Thompson says. “But Roger turned that into an advantage for us. He’d tell us to look at the other (team). He’d tell us they weren’t thinking about winning the game. It became kind of a rallying point.”
So, in the name of Mike LaCoss, here’s the Giants lineup, according to most games started:
C Bob Brenly
1B Will Clark
2B Robby Thompson
3B Kevin Mitchell
SS Jose Uribe
LF Jeffrey Leonard
CF Chili Davis
RF Candy Maldonado
SP Kelly Downs
SP Dave Dravecky
SP Atlee Hammaker
SP Mike Krukow
SP Mike LaCoss
The NBA ref betting scandal. The steroid mess. Dogfighting. It’s a terrible time to be a sports fan, so like we mentioned earlier, we’re taking a trip through sports hell, with the help of Dante.
The ninth and final circle of hell enslaves the worst of the worst: the traitors. Each of the sinners in the deepest realm–and there aren’t many in the exclusive club–betrayed someone important to them. There are four sections, each progressively worse, with the nadir coming in the final section: those who betrayed benefactors. In Dante’s original, Judas (who betrayed Jesus) suffers with Brutus and Cassius (who betrayed Caesar).
Who will be our un-holy trinity?
Well, which three, ahem, big Bay Area stars betrayed their ultimate benefactor, the sport of baseball?
The Ninth Circle: The Traitors
To Kindred
Michael Vick: PETA just got mad on behalf of canines everywhere that we lowered dogs to Michael Vick’s kindred level.
Rae Carruth: Conspiring to kill your lady friend will get you on this list, unfortunately.
Orenthal James Simpson: If OJ did kill his wife, here’s the circle of hell we’d put him in.
Bay Area Reps:
The DeBartalo Family: Granted, they haven’t killed each other like the others here, but for heaven’s sake, can’t they get along? Bicker, bicker, bicker! Sue, sue, sue!
A winning streak grows in China Basin! Two in a row! Tim Lincecum won his fourth consecutive start, Dave Roberts notched three hits and the bullpen tossed three shutout innings en route to a 4-2 victory. [SFGate]
A plan to make the team more interesting. We’re behind any plan that involves Freddie Lewis getting more playing time. [McCovey Chronicles]
You know what does make the game more interesting? Joe Montana appearing on Pac Bell’s centerfield video screen and lending the following words of support: “Hey Barry, Joe Montana here. Congratulations on a great career, and good luck on the road to history. And remember, don’t just break that record. Give ‘em a number that no one will reach.” Hey Barry, Say Hey here … you may remember us from such blog posts as … [The FanHouse]
The always incendiary Jeff Pearlman has some unflattering things (to put it nicely) to say about Mr. Bonds. Must-read. [Deadspin]
Catfight Part One: Curt Schilling called out Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire on HBO’s “Costas Now,” saying all types of jackass-y things. [100% Injury Rate]
Catfight Part Two: Barry Bonds, apparently unaware that it was Schilling who ripped him, responded by making bashing everyone’s favorite Olympics broadcaster, Costas: “You mean that little midget man who absolutely knows jacks — about baseball, who never played the game before… You can tell Bob Costas what I called him.” [With Leather]
Catfight Part Three: Yesterday, in a phone interview, Costas had this to say about “the little midget man” (yes it’s a redundant phrase): “”As anyone can plainly see, I’m 5-6 1/2 and a strapping 150, and unlike some people, I came by all of it naturally.” [SFGate]
Bloggers in USA Today? Now we’ve seen everything. Congrats to Lefty. [USA Today, via El Lefty Malo]
Barry’s so whimsy. As a child, he played a baseball game against Donald, Goofy and the rest of the Disney characters. Suuuuuure Barry. [ESPN]
Gary Sheffield thinks Bonds is the greatest player ever. The argument would hold more water if Sheffield wasn’t a racist idiot. [The FanHouse]
If you haven’t yet done so, check out this new Giants blog trying to get the Gigantes to play one final game at Candlestick. [One More At The 'Stick]
Finally, with last night’s win, the Giants’ chance of making the playoffs rose from 0.1% to 0.3%. Look out! [Sports Club Stats]
Brendan McCarthy is our existentialist soccer guy. So in honor of MLS Primetime Thursday, we’re giving him the platform since he’s better… equipped to handle this sort of thing.
Not too many things in sports frustrate me as much as the dismissal of soccer by the general public. Not steroids, not time outs in basketball, not Michael Vick and his side business.
In life, there’s always George W. to match any displeasure I might feel, but in sports, it’s different. Through time, I’ve come to terms with many of the emotions that arise whenever a Joe Schmoe condemns soccer with frivolous logic [Ed note: we don't know what you're talking about]. I’ve dealt with the anger, the befuddlement, and the disappointment because I realized that conversations (or lack thereof) neither change any opinions on the sport, nor do they affect the success of sport around the world. The ignorance only affected me and those like me in the United States. In a way, it resembles the utter helplessness a thinking person feels in this American political decade. We know the facts, we have the arguments, yet people just keep ignoring the truth.
But maybe the time has finally come. Maybe the country is finally ready to accept the original football. There is certainly much to be done, no arguing about that. Yet, is it not impossible to see the future of soccer in America as a sky’s the limit sort of deal? While America’s sporting world trips over itself, the young, adolescent MLS is becoming a man, and it is eager to prove its worth in the adult world of entertainment. And if it is, truly, then there is a bit to consider for how and why.
The NBA ref betting scandal. The steroid mess. Dogfighting. It’s a terrible time to be a sports fan, so like we mentioned earlier, we’re taking a trip through sports hell, with the help of Dante.
The penultimate circle of Dante’s inferno contains all types of frauds, as you’ll see. The thing that differentiates these sinners from the earlier ones is the use of reason to knowingly do, um, bad things. So no Mike Tyson.
The Eighth Circle: The Fraudulent
Panderers & Seducers:
Mark Chmura: “No judge, I do not know why I was in a hot tub with my 17-year-old babysitter at her prom party.”
Chris Henry: “No judge, I do not know why I served two underage girls lots of alcohol in a hotel room.”
Marcus Vick (Michael’s younger brother): “No judge, I do not know why this girl is suing me for $6.3 million because I had sex with her when she was 15.”
They tried, but they failed. The A’s tied the game in the top of ninth, but the Angels won the game in the bottom of the ninth. It’s just one of those seasons. [SFGate]
The most frustrating part of the loss? The guy who the A’s trotted out to pitch that fateful final half inning. [Athletics Nation]
The Drumbeat think that yesterday’s loss was the nail in the 2007 coffin. The season’s over, the fat lady is done singing, and it’s time to start looking to 2008 and beyond. [The Drumbeat]
Mike Piazza got hit in the head with a half-empty water bottle while in the on-deck circle during yesterday’s game against the Angels. The way he handled the situation both uncool and cool. Uncool is this whiny postgame statement: “I’m pressing charges. He’s going to spend the night in jail. He hit me right in the helmet. … It’s just inexcusable at a baseball game to throw a bottle at someone. Just a joke.” Now we’re not condoning throwing things onto the field in any situation, but maybe Piazza should have passed on that statement. On the other hand, this was “cool”: he then got a hit off closer Francisco Rodriguez en route, sparking a comeback against the dominating closer. [SFGate]
Billy Beane, meet soccer. Oops, soccer took a dive upon shaking hands. Yellow card! [Biz of Baseball]
Meanwhile, Bobby Crosby got back together with his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Miss Disabled List. [SportSpyder]
In general baseball news, player names were reportedly given to George Mitchell by the former Mets clubhouse steroid dealer. [Inside Bay Area]
The NBA ref betting scandal. The steroid mess. Dogfighting. It’s a terrible time to be a sports fan, so like we mentioned yesterday, we’re taking a trip through sports hell, with the help of Dante.
Now we’re getting to the good stuff. After skipping the heretics–everyone in the sports world thanks god already–we’re headed straight for lucky number seven. For some reason, these guys seem the scariest to us. Here come the crazies!
The NBA ref betting scandal. The steroid mess. Dogfighting. It’s a terrible time to be a sports fan, so like we mentioned yesterday, we’re taking a trip through sports hell, with the help of Dante.
In Dante’s version of hell, the deeper the circle, the worse the sin. With nine circles total, the first five circles are considered “outer hell,” because they are sins of incontinence, which for you mouth-breathers out there, means sins that result from an inability to control oneself (as opposed to more serious sins, as we’ll soon see). So, without any further ado, let’s hit circles four and five.
The Fourth Circle: The Prodigal and The Avaricious: those who wasted money and those who craved money.
The Prodigal:
Pacman Jones (above): Everytime he makes it rain–several times a night, every night–a child in Africa sheds a tear, which really dehydrates the little guys. (Note: actually we’re not really sure if Pacman should be in the “avaricious” category since his unwillingness to part with his $81,000 worth of, ahem, rain caused the whole Vegas melee in the first place. Either way, he’s here in this circle of hell.)
Scott Boras: We suppose you could put nearly every sports agent in this category, but Boras is the poster child for crazy, overinflated contracts. Well, him and Jerry Maguire and Arli$$.
Bay Area Reps:
Don Nelson: Not saying he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s seeking out that cash at the risk of distrupting the best (only?) feel-good story of the NBA, not to mention the last decade of Golden State Warriordom.
Miguel Tejada, Jason Giambi, Julian Peterson, Gilbert Arenas: There are more, but these are the guys whose salary-based departures stung the most for us at the time.