P.M. UPDATE: The Giants have signed 1st-round draft pick Wendell Fairley, a high schooler from Mississippi. He was the team’s third pick overall and signed for $1 million. Their second pick Tim Alderson came to terms a few weeks ago, which leaves their top pick, high school LHP Madison Bumgarner. Apparently Bumgarner wants $2.3 million to match the bonus the Dodgers gave Clayton Kershaw, the top LHP in last year’s draft, or else he’ll play junior college ball for a year.
If he’ll be as good as Kershaw, only 19 and already in double-A, pay the kid, dammit. But that’s unknowable. There’s a good chance the Giants will call his bluff; if he doesn’t sign, they’ll get another pick at the same slot (#10) next year in addition to their regular picks. The deadline is late Wednesday night.
***
No one has yet produced “Giants Nation!” T-shirts or bumperstickers, as far as I can tell. But what with all the wailing from (and about) the besieged Red Sox Nation these days, I’ve got sports “nations” on my brain. Red Sox Nation, Raider Nation, Niner Nation, Hyber Nation, Joe Nathan Nation, not to mention Nation’s Giant hamburgers, which my younger brother, who knows a thing or two about meat, says are nasty. I’ve never been, so don’t sue me. It’s just one well-informed meat guy’s opinion.
I’m tired of all these Nations, as if any group of people united around an illusory, unreciprocated passion for a locker-roomful of sweaty mercenaries can emotionally approximate a distinct geographical entity bound by a constitution, a heavily-patrolled border, or the bootylicious need to get down just for the funk of it. (President Clinton, indeed.)
I’m making a pre-emptive strike, similar to my behavior when I see teenagers run back and forth in the first row of the bleachers trying to incite the crowd into doing the wave:
Hey, kid! No waves in the bleachers! Take that weak crap back to L.A.!
(If vocals don’t work, a wee bit of popcorn might. But nothing heavier, please.)
Consider this a piece of popcorn aimed at your head: We are not a Giants Nation. Call us faithful, stubborn, stupid, starry-eyed, or fierce. Call us glorifying sheep, or call us defiant. With the existence of places like this and this and maybe this, you could even call us a community. But please don’t call us a Nation. I’m not sure what’s better: The Giant Diaspora? The Giant Critical Mass? Whatever happened to “fan base”? In times like these, should we even bother reaching for a collective noun to wrap around our shoulders? How about just a paper bag over our heads?
If you absolutely, positively had to put a bumpersticker on your car, what phrase would you use?
It must include the word "faithful." As in the NorCal Faithful or something like that. Hell, remember that Faith is belief in something that is not based on proof or has not been seen (and by God it's a stretch to have Faith in our Giant's immediate future). Of course it could just as easily be "blind faith." Will our faith be rewarded?