Congrats to Bay Area native Tyler Walker who probably could have made a few more dollars elsewhere but decided to re-sign with the Giants for $750,000. His quote in today’s paper: “This is where I wanted to play. The Giants were kind enough to bring me back for my rehab process. This is home.”
Funny, though, that the Giants declined his $1 million option for 2008 and risked going to arbitration. For a set-up guy who made a spectacular comeback from injury and could be a great weapon in next year’s bullpen, why quibble? It turned out well, but they saved a grand total of $250,000.
If Walker’s September comeback was no fluke, the Giants now have a viable alternative to Brian Wilson if Wilson doesn’t pan out as closer.
In other non-indictment news: Remember a couple weeks back when I asked this: “Question: how much did Scott Boras's classless move — announcing during game four of the World Series that Rodriguez would opt out of his Yankees' contract — hurt A-Rod's upcoming payday?”
I usually can’t stand the L.A. Times’s baseball writers, but this guy makes a decent argument that Boras really screwed up the A-Rod case, forcing Rodriguez to go directly to Yankees management and negotiate a new deal, which should be finalized soon. I’ll end by asking another question: Could this be the tipping point for Boras? Has he jumped the shark?
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SMALL PRINT UPDATE: Now listening to a handful of new-age CDs that work wonders in putting La Malita to sleep when she’s cranky. It’s the kind of stuff rarely heard outside of day spas and Berkeley dentist offices. The best of the lot, despite the cringeworthy title, is Shamanic Dream II by Anugama, whose name I often confuse with a Pink Floyd album.
I long for the day — or night — when Wynton Marsalis’s Standard Time Vol. 5/Midnight Blues or the soundtrack to Let’s Get Lost works the sleepytime magic just as well.
If you do end up playing "Ummagumma" for her, though, whatever you do, don't subject her to "Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together and Grooving With a Pict". Roger Waters chanting in a bad Scottish accent is enough to give an adult nightmares, let alone an infant.