Like mice chewing through ill-secured electric cords, the Giants put the Dodgers on the fritz twice this weekend, doinking them not to death but certainly to distraction.
The only grand power stroke came through the left-field wall about 45 minutes before Saturday night’s game (Saturday night game? Can we please stop this madness next year?) and told the Dodgers he’d beat them again ‘cause he hasn’t retired yet. Wishful thinking, perhaps, on Bonds’s part, but it was big of everyone all around to mend fences so quickly. And don’t overlook how a show of niceness from Mr. BLB, just as the sands of time run thin on the few teams that might desperately need his services down the stretch, could tip those decisions toward a two-month pro-rated contract.
That said, it was all warm and a lot fuzzier than Jeff Kent’s moustache, and the Giants obliged Saturday and Sunday by not getting all Zitonian by falling behind the backup catcher 3–and-1 and grooving fastballs that even a Danny Ardoin can handle. They kept it close both days, but not without controversy.
Saturday, Billy Sadler threw two lovely innings but piqued L.A.’s ire with a big fist pump after striking out Manny Ramirez in the seventh. When Kent popped a go-ahead home run in the 10th off Tyler Walker, he apparently gestured toward Sadler in the dugout. I didn’t see the fist-pump and can’t judge its degree of etiquette breach. There are degrees, you know. A “Yes!” with the head down and a subtle fist-clench is one end of the spectrum, a wild hip-thrusting whack-a-mole gyration a la Derek Lowe in the 2003 playoffs against Oakland is the other.
I suspect Sadler was a bit too emphatic for a greenhorn, and even though the unwritten rules in this case go against someone wearing my team’s colors, I’m glad he got a bit of a scolding. It’s antiquated, baseball’s adherence to ill-defined codes of conduct, but in this day and age when U.S. Olympic athletes need classes to stay classy and N.F.L. players might want to hire consultants to help plan touchdown celebrations, isn’t it nice that one sport’s players still give weight to professionalism? Not every strikeout is a celebration, not every victory in a six-month season is an excuse to dog-pile.
That said, the post-“walk-off” jumping pile, in which the winning team pummels the head of the provider of the deciding hit, is getting ridiculous. The Giants tried to give Eugenio Velez the treatment yesterday, but come on, the dude hit what should have been a game-ending an inning-ending comebacker that the pitcher let squibble through his legs.
There are other ways baseball’s straight-laced code has frayed around the edges. Some teams blast fireworks into the sky when the home team hits a home run. Down 10–2 in the ninth and the backup shortstop hits a fence-scraper? Rockets’ red glare, baby! I give the same thumbs-down for the air-raid-siren treatment, but I give the Giants a pass because their home-run signal is a foghorn and a misty spray, which at least blends into the environment.
The other raised hackles this weekend came Sunday, when Bruce Bochy let Matt Cain throw 126 pitches and ultimately give up a two-run double to Manny Ramirez with two outs in the seventh. You might object because of the pitch count, or the in-game strategy — why not walk Manny with an open base? — or both. The outing boosted Cain’s pitcher-abuse ranking to eighth in MLB (Lincecum is 6th). The past two years, Cain has finished eighth and ninth; not yet 24, he has already thrown a lot of pitches in his career. The Giants don’t have an off-day until Aug. 28, and Cain’s next assignment is Friday in Hotlanta; it would be nice to see Bochy go easy on him, get him out of there with 90 pitches or so if the situation allows.
Bochy is flirting with a breach of the prime directive. If he were Bart Simpson, he would have to stand at the chalkboard before every game and write
I promise to keep the young pitchers healthy. I promise to keep the young pitchers healthy. I promise to keep the young pitchers healthy…
