Tagged: Closers

Alyssa Milano Must Buy Me Dinner!

Now I’m not kidding.  Feel free to give me suggestions as to what I should order at the Ivy.  Thanks to Barry Bonds and fantastic late inning pitching, my meal is on Alyssa Milano.  Giggity goo!

I started looking at the menu after Bonds put one into orbit in the first inning to give the Giants a 4-0 lead.  Those LA fans who were all set to arrive in the third inning probably turned around and drove home to watch the sunset (instead of a great game between two NL West rivals).  I lost my appetite, though, after Noah Lowry wobbled through 4 innings and allowed the Dodgers to tie the game at 4 runs apiece. 

Alyssa must have been licking her chops.

And Randy Wolf’s curveball just got filthier by the second and Grady Little couldn’t pull him soon enough!  The thought of an ex-Philly and his Tommy-John-surgically-repaired-arm depriving me of the wine list was enough to make me almost silently weep.  No clinking glasses, no declaring that I am the boss.

Thankfully, Lowry found his curve, the setup men kept the Dodger faithful silent and Armando (yes, Armando) sat the Dodgers down in order for a perfect ninth.  I couldn’t help but think about dessert and getting through the paparazzi who will undoubtedly be waiting for Alyssa and me as we depart our evening supper on a lazy summer evening.

Jeeze, that means I’ll need a slick outfit so I’ll look great when we’re splashed all over the pages of OK! and US WEEKLY!

Once Milano gets a load of these posts, though, I’ll probably have to contend with a restraining order instead of selcting culinary delights and high fashion.  Before her legal team tries to thwart our Hollywood hof brau, this Giants fan is going to sit back and savor what the team has served for 7 consecutive games:  wins.

The Warm Fuzzy Feeling of Doom

I now know how the Cincinnati Bengals felt in Super Bowl XXIII with 3 minutes to play.

I now know how the Los Angeles Lakers, Portland Trailblazers, Phoenix Suns and Utah Jazz felt the second they took the court and saw the guy with #23 on his Bulls uniform.

Doomed. 

At the same time, I painfully rejoiced over what it feels like to be a Giants fan and that’s living with the guarantee of a late inning collapse.

Matt Cain did his part to prevent the inevitable with a 7-inning, 2-hit shutout performance, but the bullpen did a lovely job of not finding the strike zone and generally looking miserable.  (To think that Armando Benitez had no part in this chokejob is almost unimaginable!)

Giants fans can thank Vinnie Chulk, Jonathan Sanchez and Kevin Correia for gagging this one.  Thank you, guys.  You’re peaches.

It would be easy to deflect my anger by ripping apart the Colorado Rockies.  I could call them a joke franchise or say that their park is for mouthbreather fans (or the 4000 or so mouthbreathing fans who decide to show up) and I won’t even get into the Christmas trees in the bullpen.  I’m above that.  There is no need to divert my anger by pointing out that the Rockies have lame purple jerseys. 

The Giants get and deserve the full brunt of my wrath (but if you read what I write enough, you already knew that).  The second I saw Matt Cain sitting on the bench in the 7th inning getting pats on the back with a three run lead was enough to make me groan and squirm.  The anger already began to brew and here’s why:

  1. 3 runs is never enough in Coors Field because the park blows.
  2. 3 runs is never enough in Coors Field when you are a member of the San Francisco Giants bullpen.
  3. 789529870262498 runs is never enough in Coors Field when Armando Benitez is the San Francisco Giants’ closer.

Admittedly, the bullpen alone didn’t entirely blow the game.  They did have Pedro Feliz yet again making a case for my pregnant wife to take his place in the line-up.  (Brian Sabean?  Can you read this?  HOW ABOUT THIS?  IS THIS BETTER?  IT IS?  GOOD.  READ THIS:  PEDRO FELIZ STINKS.)  Even Feliz, though, didn’t manage to allow a homerun to Steve Finley and walk two batters.  Man, the walks.

When the game was ultimately blown, I was incensed for sure, but the relative calmness that enveloped me was the feeling of doom.  Doom is now a comfort as a Giants fan because it’s a known feeling that has made a metamorphosis into a safe feeling.  Doom is my knitted blanket that keeps me warm while watching the Giants throw another season down the toilet.

Now bring on the Cardinals!