6.04.2008
Drinkin' Game
Well Oliver Perez certainly didn't have it tonight. If being yanked in the first inning is the ultimate insult for a starting pitcher, then being yanked in the first inning against the Giants is something worse than that. As for being yanked in the first inning against the Giants with the pitcher coming up....
It always gets interesting in our little corner of the world when the Mets come to town. The man most responsible for our company having the season tickets that I manage to hog each year is one of those rabid, beyond-all-reason Mets fans. He's also one of those types who seems to--well let's just say Teh Alcohols seem to follow him around particularly when it comes to such momentous occasions as the Mets' only visit to San Francisco all year.
But that's not the only reason this was a Drinkin' Game. For one, it was another one of those cold and windy nights at the Call Center that I frankly don't see any way of enjoying/tolerating/surviving without a healthy dose of booze in the bloodstream. For another, my bottle of Johnnie Walker Black had been confiscated by security at the turnstile the day before, so I was out for revenge. (Always carry it on your person if you can; nobody has the time or inclination to pat down 40,000 doughy baseball fans.)
One flask of Beam and one large bottle of Suntory later, mission was accomplished. All of this is a roundabout way of saying, mistakes were made on the scorecard.
It always gets interesting in our little corner of the world when the Mets come to town. The man most responsible for our company having the season tickets that I manage to hog each year is one of those rabid, beyond-all-reason Mets fans. He's also one of those types who seems to--well let's just say Teh Alcohols seem to follow him around particularly when it comes to such momentous occasions as the Mets' only visit to San Francisco all year.
But that's not the only reason this was a Drinkin' Game. For one, it was another one of those cold and windy nights at the Call Center that I frankly don't see any way of enjoying/tolerating/surviving without a healthy dose of booze in the bloodstream. For another, my bottle of Johnnie Walker Black had been confiscated by security at the turnstile the day before, so I was out for revenge. (Always carry it on your person if you can; nobody has the time or inclination to pat down 40,000 doughy baseball fans.)
One flask of Beam and one large bottle of Suntory later, mission was accomplished. All of this is a roundabout way of saying, mistakes were made on the scorecard.
Brian Horwitz and Co.
The Ollie Apologists
6.02.2008
The Padres Might Be Worse Than the Giants
Tactical error by Bud Black ended this one: with runners on the corners in a tie game in the bottom of the tenth, Trevor Hoffman ran the count full to Jose Castillo with one out. Randy Winn had good speed at first so you knew he was going to be running on the pitch, and yet the Padres did not draw the infield in from double-play depth, a critical mistake Black may not have realized until Castillo hit a routine grounder to short that Edgar Gonzalez had no choice but to eat while the winning run scored.
This game was notable for its quick, clean tenor and the abrupt change thereof in the final inning. Lincecum and Randy Wolf tossed the kind of pitcher's duel that seemed to have more to do with the ineptitude of the offenses involved than with anyone's blazing stuff (Franchise tallied only two Ks in seven mostly easy innings). The Giants in particular did not appear likely to be able to muster more than one run at any point, but when Hoffman came in to protect a two-run lead in the tenth the base hits started coming faster than I could write them down. The gun never read higher than 85 for any of Hoffman's pitches. I wonder if Petco Park's traditional playing of "Hell's Bells" in the ninth these days is just sad in that wistfully nostalgic sort of way. If the Padres were in contention they would have probably found a way to end this particular death march by now.
Oh and one final note: I have no idea who Brian Horwitz and Alex Hinshaw are. Nobody else in the park did either. But this game will go down as a lifelong memory for both of them.
The Third-Place Giants
This game was notable for its quick, clean tenor and the abrupt change thereof in the final inning. Lincecum and Randy Wolf tossed the kind of pitcher's duel that seemed to have more to do with the ineptitude of the offenses involved than with anyone's blazing stuff (Franchise tallied only two Ks in seven mostly easy innings). The Giants in particular did not appear likely to be able to muster more than one run at any point, but when Hoffman came in to protect a two-run lead in the tenth the base hits started coming faster than I could write them down. The gun never read higher than 85 for any of Hoffman's pitches. I wonder if Petco Park's traditional playing of "Hell's Bells" in the ninth these days is just sad in that wistfully nostalgic sort of way. If the Padres were in contention they would have probably found a way to end this particular death march by now.
Oh and one final note: I have no idea who Brian Horwitz and Alex Hinshaw are. Nobody else in the park did either. But this game will go down as a lifelong memory for both of them.
The Fourth-Place Padres
The Third-Place Giants
Labels: game reports, san diego padres, san francisco giants, tim lincecum
