Excuse Me Swing

So where was I ?

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 02:45:00 +0000

I am wildly in favor of sloth..It doesn't appear to be all that deadly as a sin. There is plenty of room for a substantial boiler in cyberspace. Anyhoo, sloth it was and sloth it remains. I have no good reason for shirking on my responsibilities here at Strawman Towers.

I have maintained my staff save Phil in accounting who steered me into a massive condo complex purchase in Las Vegas..In hindsight, I should have just given the money to Madoff or Barry Zito.

At any rate, the boys in the ground floor offices are limbering up their laptops and we have cut some costs by opening a strip joint where the fitness room used to be.

We are sub-primed, sub-primed, I tell you to deliver hard hitting, insightful commentary on stuff we really don't know much about. We have been little more than a "Zombie" blog for months now but the party is over, people..

So what's with the Giants?

We like that the team has exceeded their quota of tubsters. All that cash that 'The Bowtie' saved by not signing Manny Ramirez will go quickly with the post game meal spreads these guys will require. As fast as the little dudes are I am hoping that Velez and Torres can get into the buffet line ahead of the larger assets lest they are forced into stripper gallivanting on an empty stomach.

Spring training was great for about a day or so, evolved into season 19 of Dancing With the Stars when all they can get is Donny Most and Pia Zadora, and drug on even longer before becoming a monumental slog akin to hiking around Bochy's head.

The Giants made some decisions which I plan to rail against unfairly and Bochy retained that almost mythical blandness usually only found in Logan Utah.

Sabean got some sweet deals on Gandolfini's wardrobe items at the Sopranos set garage sale and every possible good in the world relies totally on Lincecum. It's all falling into place..

Play ball.....

Because I Care

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Fri, 07 Sep 2007 04:10:00 +0000

So, the Dodgers are coming to town and I guess they still retain some smoldering ember of hope for a post season berth in their tiny little pretend hearts. The Giants, alas, have no such flicker. This is vexing and tragic enough even in years when the Dogs are forlorn also rans as well. Still, I find that I am oddly serene. What a perplexing notion.

Has the fact that I have been pummeled by a quixotic alchemy of repulsion and attraction to the Giants this season inured me so completely from the unholy certainty that the Dodgers are Beelzebub's Nine? Why can't I work up some righteous fervor for a spiritually cleansing sweep of the offending pile which magnificently castigates that evil spawn to a long and remorseless winter. That's always a good thing, isn't it?

I would like to chalk up my new found ambivalence to a sudden jolt of maturity and perspective. That can't be it. I don't do maturity and perspective here. Petulance and hyperbole is my game and that season never ends, Padre.

Serenity is an ill fitting jacket. What has this season done to me?

Casting Stones

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Mon, 27 Aug 2007 17:13:00 +0000

Once upon a time the Giants used to toy with the Rockies at Corporate Naming Rights Park. Once upon a time really good looking chicks used to give me the come hither look too. Things change. Now the Rockies think they are pretty good and they know the Giants aren't. They are bold enough to take a whiz on home plate and claim it as their turf. This is distressing. It's like this whole Justin Timberlake thing. It doesn't make any sense.

The Rockies have never been the least bit helpful before. They don't appear to serve any purpose this year other than as a crushing reminder that the Giants sit 10 games behind them in the standings. Next they will be telling me they found David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen playing Canasta at the home and convinced them the world needs another tour. That can't happen, can it? 50 year old rock stars, 40 year old ballplayers? When are they baby boomers going to realize they are now the aging hipster, declining relevance, middle aged boomers. You don't think Barry Bonds appreciates all those non taxing walks? We all do, man..

So what were we talking about? Oh yes, the upstart Rockies with their silly looking black biker vest unis. That is not a good look. There is a pseudo Oakland Raiders vibe in those jerseys, though in a vastly less threatening and more wholesome way. Maybe you won't get knifed in the stands but the Rockies will still find a way to kill the Giants every chance they get. It's an ugly tale with a sinister plot and it festers still. Sadly, there is no equitable revenge to be realized here. The Rockies aren't going to the post season so sweeping them even farther out of the race will not balance the karmic scales. As if anything could.....

Young Turks

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 23:15:00 +0000

If I justed wanted to hang out, slug back a few brews and sneak around with strippers, I think guys like Aurillia, Roberts and Durham would be great company. They seem like nice guys and, like me, they have certainly put in a number of years breathing air. Do I want to watch them play baseball? I would have to say no. It's not as if I am a complete creepo trying to deprive them of their dreams. They have enjoyed long careers and have millions of bucks in the bank.

This pretty much parallels what I have here at EMS. As crafty as I have been climbing the corporate ladder to the penthouse office of Strawman Towers, I also realize that the day to day leg work of irresponsible journalism is a job for younger limbs. I don't like my young serfs any more than Bochy likes Kevin Frandsen but I do understand their value. They are cheap and energetic and I can always blame them for dumb decisions I make. What could be better?

I long ago purged the good clubhouse guys and replaced them with hungry young sharks who live only to serve my needs. Sure, the old dudes always have to wash their hair when I call them up for golf but I don't have to explain their bloated contracts to the missus either.

Our motto here is "Younger, Faster and Healthier." I don't really believe any of that crap. I am, however, quite enamored with cheaper.

Sabes and Boch are my age. It's never easy to teach old dogs new tricks. I resist change as much as the next Neanderthal. But if I can have some sort of epiphany then so can they. Hire some young players under 30. They have far more nubile and less jaded strippers in their posse. It just makes sense.

Air

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 20:13:00 +0000

There must be a 1000 ways to say the Giants suck and it has always been my intention to explore each and every one. I have been noticeably slack in this mission of late. I would like to offer some sort of excuse but, sadly, general laziness is the culprit. I have been a very poor role model for the junior staffers.

Strawman Towers is abuzz, abuzz, I tell you, about the Rajai phenomenon. If there is some available ying for the disastrous yang enveloping all things Giants these days, how sweet would it be for young Mr. Davis to be that celestial messenger. Getting rid of Morris and his accompanying contract anchor was a lovely bit of providence. What a nice little bonus it would be to have Rajai emerge as a symbol of the hopeful possible instead of yet another agonizing disappointment. We are collectively holding our breath.

Still holding....

Still holdinnnnnggggggggg...............

Sorry, I can no longer hold my breath. I have ordered a couple of my underlings to continue holding their breath while I symbolically participate. What the hey, there are always more junior staffers where they came from.

Now that I am fully oxygenated, I just realized that the Giants are playing the Braves tonight. John Smoltz is pitching. I don't like our chances here. Once we are able to revive them, I will have the minions again hold their breath for a Giants win tonight. I have learned from my 8 second ordeal that there is a beautiful power in breath withholding. They will thank me one day.

Friday Drivel

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Fri, 10 Aug 2007 15:45:00 +0000

Every once in awhile the universe throws out one of those imponderables. Tonight the Giants face a guy who regularly gives up 6 runs in the first inning. Normally it takes the Giants 3 full games to get 6 runs. The immutable laws of physics will surely be in play tonight. Something will happen and it won't be pretty. It's too complex for me to unravel. I will leave it to the philosophers to unwind that little chestnut.

Ah, but the weirdness has already stepped in. Under what alternate reality scenario do the Giants trade a useful player to the Dodgers? Doesn't that seem just the least bit odd? I could see dumping some horrible contract on the Dogs. That would be right and fair but Sweeney is pretty cheap. In addition, he may have a good source for eye openers should any Dog poopies need a little boost. His value in the clubhouse is immeasurable. Don't you just know he will break up a Lincecum perfect game bid with a 2 out pinch hit home run in the 9th. Trading with the excrementals is never sane..It can only end badly.

Will we be looking at the smallest crowd in the history of Corporate Naming Rights Park tonight? Orange Friday may clash horribly with the sea of empty green seats. Krukow may not even need the eliminate me pen tonight.

One to Go

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Sun, 05 Aug 2007 15:01:00 +0000

I have been on the planet for quite awhile now. I have witnessed two different guys pursue the all time home run record. These things are never easy for the players involved. Number one, hitting home runs is hard. Hitting home runs when so many people wish you wouldn't can't be very pleasant for anyone.

Hank Aaron is taking heat these days for not embracing the Bonds pursuit. Though I believe Aaron is a true gentleman he is not immune to human emotion. While he was going for the record in 74, I wasn't all that pleased. I didn't care that he was breaking Ruth's record, I was mightily indignant that it wasn't Willie Mays hitting 715. Willie was and remains my one sports hero. I thought Hank was a great player but just not as deserving. I ramped up all the excuses. Willie lost 2 years to the army, Willie had to play in cavernous home fields while Aaron got the launching pad, Willie was the ultimate team player who would happily fore go the home run to win a game some other way.

Mays was the man. The player of the century as far as I am concerned but he would have faced just as much scorn and abuse as Aaron did had he been the one to break the record. Not only for the ugly racial hate but also because baseball fans don't particularly cherish players from other teams. Fans respect talent but they love their own guys. I would wager that Yankee fans didn't think Aaron was as deserving as the Mick. Reds fans probably think Frank Robinson was the guy who really should be regarded as the best home run hitter. Fans tend to root more with their heart than with their head.

Now comes Bonds and his pursuit is as chock full of vitriol and sturm and drang as Hank's. We still have tinges of racial animus, steroids and money swirling around. We have fans who want Barry to break that record and fans who really, really don't. There isn't a whole lot of middle ground.

If I live long enough I suppose I will see another guy climb this mountain. I am certain that when that day comes the moment will still be as full of angst and bitterness and yes, joyous celebration as the last two times.

However, like Hank, who is entitled to his opinion, and Bonds, the next guy will have earned this record. He will deserve our respect if not our devotion.

Right now it's Bonds who should be accorded all the accolades. He did it. I say well done, Barry. Bravo!!!

Thursday Throwaways

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Thu, 02 Aug 2007 18:00:00 +0000

I was just talking to some of my counterparts at the Proudly Bland Association( PBA) and they are as up in arms as any proudly bland person can be about Bochy. The concern is Boch' has carried his own unique blandness to even blander levels then the BPA recommends. Paper towels generate more excitement than Mr Vanilla. Consternation amongst the bland is not a pretty picture.

When is MLB going to finally address that crucial rule change that allows for ghost runners. How many times do they have to see players cruelly felled by hamstring pulls running the entire 270 feet from 1st to home before they act? Sure, these guys are highly paid athletes but to expect a guy to run for 15 straight seconds is inhumane. Ghost runners save on laundry costs too.

It's bad enough that Furcal and Pierre are Dodgers but do they have to emulate Neifi Perez too? As punishment for those ridiculous slug bunt deals they should be forced to listen to the complete Barry Manilow catalogue performed by accordian players jamming with bagpipers. They do that every day over at BPA. Seligula knows the secret handshake. Let's facilitate this punishment post haste.

Rajai is really fast and he made a nice throw. He will remain my favorite Giants player up and until such time as he does something to vex me. I am nothing if not fair..

Pigs do Fly

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 18:03:00 +0000

Who knew? Matty Mo pitched and bitched his way to the Pirates and Sabean looks like a shrewd horse trader again. Of course, Sabes positively gushed about what a great "get" Morris was a couple years ago. He was a bulldog and a fantastic clubhouse guy that would prove to be more valuable than mere numbers could ever show. I guess that was just before he started questioning the company line. "I am not sure what the goal is here." If Morris didn't understand the 'ride the Bonds gravy train' mentality when he signed his deal he clearly wasn't paying attention. Perhaps he was blinded by the money. He wouldn't be the first player afflicted by that big potato.

Anyhoo, Sabean now has 10 million more bucks to play with this winter. Normally, that is a good thing but Sabes and money burning a hole in his pocket has not been a particularly productive tag team lately.

The Giants have been playing a bit better lately. I have no idea as to why such a thing is occurring but let's not mess it up by questioning good fortune. Since I have been irrevocably tied to this mostly unrequited Giants fan straitjacket type devotion, wins, even few and far between, are always welcomed.

Rajai is a good name...

A Wee Bit

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Mon, 30 Jul 2007 18:40:00 +0000

Dear EMS,

You guys are hopeless, and I suspect very short midget gas bags who don't know Jack about baseball. You just criticize without ever offering any suggestions.

Sincerely,

Grandma

Fair enough. Put this in your pipe and smoke it granny.

With all the normal caveats that none of this will happen, our current staff recommendation is to offer Randy Winn*, Dave Roberts, Patrick Misch and 3 million bucks to the Twinks for Torii Hunter. The taller staffers are somewhat skeptical but the little dudes are right down with this deal.

The Twinkies would get two players under contract for a couple more years, a promising young lefty and enough cash to even out the dollars this year for a guy who will cost a whole lot more next season and will probably be collecting those checks from some other team.

The Giants get a very nice CF for the rest of the year and open up an outfield slot for Freddy or Schierholtz. Hunter most likely would be nothing more than a rental and leave as a free agent next year but that's not the worst case scenario for the Giants. A team that really, really, really needs to reboot the farm could make good use of a couple of compensatory picks should Hunter bolt. The nice bonus would be payroll clearance with Roberts and Winn under performing elsewhere.

Or Sabes could just sit on this little gold mine he has built here and do nothing. He is not a particularly tall man. Perhaps it is best to lay low. As if he could do otherwise.

* Yes we know Randy Winn has a no trade golden parachute and he could put the kibosh to the whole deal. Just work with me here, people.

Little Person Hops

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Fri, 27 Jul 2007 18:14:00 +0000

There is a profound sense of anxiety permeating through the corridors of the EMS corporate office. If Bob Costas can be called upon the carpet for commenting on a sport he has never played or knows jack about, where does that leave us here in Strawman Towers? We exist only to offer unenlightened opinions about stuff we know little about. I have a full time staff devoted to nothing but inappropriate journalism. We have never owned a baseball team. Should we be therefore shamed into only offering glowing testimonials to Magowan? Have we been grievously untoward to question the wisdom in ballplayers hanging out with strippers?

We certainly understand the immense power we have as inappropriate journalists from the countless emails we get telling us about how many times we have turned someone from the dark side to the nirvana of our unique and clearly superior world view. We take few stands here. We are basically just in this thing for the chicks and the insane salary. Still, we simply must be able to freely criticize, unfairly, free of the criticism from those little people who have never spent years in blog training. Bad mouthing the Giants is a right, man

What with all the nastiness surrounding various professional sports figures these day it will be refreshing to see the out pouring of love from the SF fans for Armando Benitez this weekend.

I will be off to the wilds of southern Oregon for Mrs. Swing's family reunion. The EMS universe will be on hold for a few days.

Thursday Thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Thu, 26 Jul 2007 18:47:00 +0000

I heard that Barry Bonds called Bob Costas a midget. It's probably an understandable, heat of the moment, off the cuff type of statement but I wonder what sort of self image body blow Bonds' lack of little people sensitivity will have on the vertically challenged Ray Durham. I am guessing Marvin Benard is already rounding up past Fightin' Hydrants and any available ladders to climb up and punch Bonds in the nose.

Speaking of Marvin, the Giants need some better stank eye. They seem like decent enough guys but they sure don't appear to fire up easily. Couldn't they at least pretend to get pissed off once in awhile? Then again, they do have their people to handle that sort of thing, I guess. Maybe, their wives and mistresses could have some sort of throw down in the stands. I am not convinced it would lead to any more wins but it would be a sure fire ratings winner. Just a thought.

Nice win last night. Lowry was great and Feliz is having one of those tantalizing hot streaks that convinces Sabes to bring him back and give him a nice raise every year. Apparently, Sabes is away on vacation during those much longer periods when Pedro is in his demoralizing cold streaks.

These Kids today

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Tue, 24 Jul 2007 19:18:00 +0000

We are at the crossroads here, people. Maybe other teams will take the assorted detritus of despair the Giants run out there every night. While that doesn't seem likely anything is possible, I guess. For the sake of argument and my sanity, let's just say the Giants can open a little roster space. What comes next?

My secretary has a great big crush on Larry Baer but even she refuses believe the rebuild talk coming out of the front office. We just can’t imagine Mags willingly fielding a lineup of unknown quantities. Unfortunately, we don’t have to imagine the known and frightening quantities out there now. We would like to believe that would be enough to induce a sea change of a Pacific Ocean type scope and grandeur. We are used to being disappointed, though.

No matter how the staff massages the reports the data remains consistent. The Giants don’t have a lot of options that vary much from the limited options they generally endure. Trading highly coveted players is tough enough. Trading highly un-coveted players is like wrangling coherence out of Ozzie Osbourne. Still, it’s certainly worth the old college try. Otherwise Mags will have to buy into a few more contracts to eat so that the mythical young players, just waiting to emerge, can be squeezed onto the big club. If they can jump over that enchilada then Sabean must somehow be convinced that young players do not represent all that is evil in this world. Again, a nasty leap of faith there, I tell you. After that, the final level on the Wii only comes by cajoling Bochy into benching the remaining oldsters and tolerating the cruel fluctuations of agony and ecstasy that are the timeless certainties with young ball players.

Will Mags jump at this opportunity to rebuild knowing that the front runner butts may well be vacating their lucrative seats in the ol’ ball yard if the local nine is as anonymous as a composite drawing? I doubt it.

Post Viral Musings

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 00:58:00 +0000

I don't know about you but I am pretty sure I didn't grow up clinging desperately to the trade deadline as the highlight of the season. It's not like I was all that intuitive and wise either. I once spent 2 and 1/2 hours at a Rare Earth concert listening to them butcher their ridiculous 5 song set. There is just so many times a band can go to the 15 minute drum solo well but the guys apparently didn't get the memo. I am vaguely certain that I was experiencing some sort of altered reality at the time but even that couldn't steel me sufficiently for such horror. Of course, it wasn't as bad as the Jan Hammer Group at a Day on the Green, but what could be?

Speaking of classic rock, I am guessing middle aged, northeast coaster Sabean has a lot of J. Geils on his I-pod. If he has a Matt Morris for a bag of three day old donuts trade in him, it would certainly blow my face out. I could forgive Bochy's Carpenters collection if he would actually let someone who wasn't alive when the Four Seasons were topping the charts play. You just know that Mags has an Air Supply poster on a wall in his house somewhere.

I am sorry for the grievous break in the action here but the staff has simply been flummoxed by the Trojan Vundo of Satan that has toyed with us relentlessly the last few days. Sure, I like the penis enhancement pop ups, they are always informative, but the 10 thousand other daily spam reminders are taxing the mainframe aplenty. Hopefully, the tech staff has this thing ironed out but every time I go down to the dark cellar where I keep them chained to their servers, I smell reefer and Rare Earth is on full blast. Technology is great right up to the moment it isn't.

Sorry

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Tue, 17 Jul 2007 22:01:00 +0000

I have had a tough day battling evil and pernicious computer viruses. This may be the same bad juju infecting the Giants. I will be back to driveling soon.

Sell This Team

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Mon, 16 Jul 2007 15:09:00 +0000

Given any option at all I would happily fill my tv viewing hours with sports, the History Channel and Skinemax. However, as a fully domesticated 21st century husband, modern mores dictate that I must devote at least one hour a week watching some show that Mrs. Swing and I can enjoy together. We watch Sell This House on A&E. I am not being noble here. While the show is actually quite informative and helpful, I just watch for Tanya Memme. She could repaint my rec room anytime, if you catch my leering drift.

Every episode is based around what home sellers need to do to entice potential buyers to cough up the offers. Big, beefy Roger, the power lifting decorator, coldly shames the homeowners into dismantling that life size replica of Vince Lombardi built out of beer cans they have in the living room. The black and orange wallpaper in the den is replaced by just the right shade of mauve. Following a couple of dumpster loads of almost every other thing not nailed down, the offers pour in. It's simple, easy and cost effective. Ah, were it only so for your San Francisco Giants.

Despite every trick Roger has at his command, the poor decorating choices Sabean has made can not be so readily dispensed. It's like the billboard sized matador on black velvet has been welded to the wall above the the mantle. TNT couldn't move that. The pecky cedar paneling is as institutionalized and permanent as the pyramids. The avocado colored kitchen appliances run on kerosene. George Clooney couldn't even get lucky with post stir Paris Hilton on that purple shag carpet in front of the pellet stove. Mere cosmetic changes are well nigh impossible to pull off when the foundation has dropped two feet under the garage. The Giants have become that shack under the airport landing path, next to the sewer treatment plant, infected by root rot. The local Hell's Angel chapter just moved out of the neighborhood because it had become a bad influence on their kids.

Never have Roger's special gifts been more in demand.

Dodger Blues

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Sat, 14 Jul 2007 15:25:00 +0000

The conventional wisdom winging around cyberspace seems to be split into two camps. One side is convinced that extending Sabean means Bonds will be shown the door after the season. Others argue that Bonds will be back next year because Sabean represents a stay the course strategy. While I possess some conventional wisdom (I picked up some very helpful hints at the last convention in Orlando) I have no theory to offer. I am only truly confident in postulating that whatever the Giants do or don't do will both confuse and vex me. I know that building a World Series winner is more art than science. Fine. Get to painting!!!!

Losing is bad enough. Losing to the Dog Poopies is like chewing on tinfoil. Can there ever be anything honest and beautiful in this world when Jeff Kent and Brett Tomko get to enjoy even a moment of pleasure?

Few things in life will ever be more important than Morris pitching a 2 hit shutout on national TV today. The difference between a shutout or giving up 6 runs in the first inning can not be understated. Pitch that gem and the Giants might be able to trade him for a marginal, though still breathing ball player. If Morris gets rocked Plan M comes into play. We really don't want to see Plan M implemented.

What do the Runes Tell Us?

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 14:46:00 +0000

Returning from their extended vacation, the Giants start the second half on Friday the 13th. Has there ever been a more apt omen of pain and misery than that? Fortunately for the superstitious players, there is no inconvenient winning streak forcing them to wear the same socks until the they lose a game. In fact, Magowan is already complaining about the massive sock budget. These dudes have to change socks almost every day.

After consulting the Shaman we keep on retainer here, we are seeing signs that the Giants will indeed play more games. That appears to be almost certain. The Shaman is waffling on the winning part. While he is supremely confident the world will end on February 8, 2047 and that Rosie O'Donnell and Donald Trump will secretly marry next month, he just won't commit to any Giants win. I am not at all sure why I keep this clown on the payroll. The Giants will win a game sometime in the second half. I sense it. I sense that I will soon be partying in the Rio with Salma Hayek too. One of these visions has to be true doesn't it?

Here's to rubbing that lucky rabbit's foot.*

In other news, Bochy just announced that he will be resting the vets tonight because the grueling 4 day break has just wiped these guys out. Can you imagine the strain these players endure from just lugging their wallet around? When you couple that with slow room service and particularly energetic strippers it's a wonder sometimes these athletes can perform at all.

* Of course, luck is relative. Next time you see a three legged rabbit ask him how his luck has been lately.

Get Back to Play!!

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 16:06:00 +0000

Did I mention that I hate off days? I guess, on some sort of primal level, I understand the hurdles in traveling clear across the country and still squeezing in a twi-night double header are daunting at best. Still, these guys are paid well and they get really good looking chicks. I say playing everyday is not nearly as taxing as sneaking around with strippers. The problem for me is the gravy train around here doesn't stop because these pansies need 3 or 4 days off. My staff doesn't come cheap, you know. It also interferes with my pursuit of strippers to sneak around with to have to come up with make do work for the help. The lack of new things to whine about while the Giants extend their R&R compels me to rehash the ongoing non- story of the week; The Sabean Saga.

Two questions appear to be at the core of the matter. Why does Magowan want Sabean to stay and, more perplexing, why does Sabean want to stay? It could be that the reports of the Giants offering an extension are bogus. It could be...

All right then, sir, what else is happening? It looks like Ichiro is re-upping with the Mariners. Scratch him off the list. Torii Hunter dissed Corporate Naming Rights Park the other day. Put him into the "I like the school system in every city other than San Francisco excuse" category. Free agent hitters haven't demonstrated a strong desire to come to the land of 410 foot fly ball outs lately so restocking the easy way with strapping young sluggers (and their corresponding stripper gaggle) is probably a sweet but ultimately crushing dream. I am getting a strong Mike Cameron vibe and that is never healthy. I am somewhat assuaged by the fact that Mike is still only in his middle 30's so the inevitable multi year Cameron contract is probably 5 years away. I could be killed in a tragic kiln accident by then.

Did I mention that I hate off days?

Mr. Mays

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 14:09:00 +0000

The Giants don't do much winning lately but they do ceremony better than anyone else. The tribute to Willie Mays was fabulous. There certainly wasn't a dry eye around these here parts. Willie became my one enduring sports idol when I was 7 or 8 and to this day remains a direct connection to heaven between my dad and me. My old man taught me many things and learning about Willie was one of the important lessons. That I still get a thrill whenever I see Willie is a sweet testimony to baseball, fathers and sons and Mr. Mays himself. Well done.

Now from the sublime to the ridiculous, the current state of the Giants. What to do. While my heart says sell, sell, sell, my head says listen to your pancreas. That organ offers a reasonable argument for making some trades but not necessarily for minor leaguers. I am not sure I want to see a bunch of non shavers out there on the field next year. I clearly don't want a bunch of aging dollar vacuums either. Ideally, the Giants should have a better mix of fresh faced kids, reliable players in the middle of their career and some crafty older vets. Lavishing a 100 million clams on some guy who is already in his 30's does not seem like the best of ideas. Spreading that dough around to some younger and hungrier vets in their mid to late 20's makes more sense to me. Easier said than done, though.

And who will be the puppet master? Reports this morning indicate that Sabean might be back after all. Those voices that TV reporter back east was hearing may have been drunk. At any rate I suggest close police scrutiny on this journalist. What are those voices going to instruct him to do next?

The Sabean Watch

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 19:18:00 +0000

I have had my people contacting other people who might know people who could be Sabean's people and all these people are saying something. I don't know what they are saying but I am certain it is pertinent to the issue at hand. Is Sabean cleaning out his locker today? Some obscure TV reporter in some obscure town on the East Coast claims he is hearing that Sabean will be severely axed over the All Star break. The dude apparently has extraordinary ears.

If Sabean is indeed the proverbial toasted pastry can Lou Seal be far behind? Mags is surely not going to limit his scapegoating and insistence upon underlings falling on sacrificial scimitars to just the GM is he? When the purge comes it will be bloody and frightening. Mike Murphy will probably get a sweet golden parachute but almost everyone else will be scorched, baby. Greg Papa is a steady journeyman. He will land softly somewhere. I worry about Bip Roberts.

Speaking of Lou Seal, Fuego has been absolutely tearing it up in Fresno. Where he used to struggle with the rubbing the bald guy's head gag, he has worked on that shtick religiously. It's now a strength. If he can get some sort of handle on high fiving third base coaches he could help the big club right now. No doubt Fuego is jonesing about the Sabean regime coming to an end..He didn't put in all this time in the bush leagues just to sit behind Lou for two or three seasons before he gets the opportunity to do the tee shirt toss everyday. Fuego is hungry...

Monday, Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 16:49:00 +0000

I find that I am not at all interested in the All Star Game. It's a meaningless snooze under the best of circumstances. If the Giants had more than one participant I might work up enough enthusiasm to bust away from stripping the deck to watch an inning or two. Then again, probably not.

I loved the original Home Run Derby TV show they had in the 60's. Of course, I was 9 years old at the time. This lash up they run now is as stale and uninteresting as the parade of pastels and clever little wines up in the corporate boxes. Let's add some spice. The contestants not only have to hit a home run but they have to go into the stands and fight the memorabilia dealers for the ball. If they hit one into the cove, they should have to swim out and fetch the ball then jump on a unicycle and pedal around the park. They could seed the water with sharks for an extra challenge.

I wonder if they will pad the ball dude roster with all stars as well. They could bring in movie stars who have portrayed baseball players. Kevin Costner must have 30 baseball movies under his belt. He could be one. John Goodman did the worst imitation of a ball player since Anthony Perkins. That should be enough to nab a spot on the little stool. Robert Redford is over a 100 years old. He seems ideal. Tony Danza!!!

I caught about 30 seconds of the Futures Game and saw Brian Bocock actually draw a walk. In all the excitement he must have forgotten that he is a Giants farm hand.

What are the chances Seligula will crash the Jay-Z party? Bud seems terminally stiff but maybe that's just his public persona. A couple of belts and he could be dancing on the bar in his tighty whites. You never know.

Checking In

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Sun, 08 Jul 2007 15:00:00 +0000

So....Just got back from driving with the lovely Mrs. Swing and two of the junior Swings clean up to South Dakota. We made the Jackson Hole to Reno run yesterday which featured the blazing desert fire march along almost the entire I-80 corridor of Nevada. Through the smoke and dust and 50 mph winds I finally was able to tune into the Giants game just outside Lovelock. The first thing I heard was Ray Durham grounding into a double play and I knew I was home.

I just perused the World Wide Web and I see that Freddy is back, Nate is gone and there appears to be any number of new middle relievers. I also see the assorted changes have not moved the Giants out of last place. I don't seem to have missed many wins.

I guess I will have to gather up the staff and begin anew with the thorough and important research we do around here. No more sucking up the easy money on the DL. Time to go to work, work, work. Well, maybe after the All Star Break.

Holiday Road

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 17:07:00 +0000

I will be maintaining radio silence for a week or so. We are loading the kinfolk into the Family Truckster and heading for the hinterland. Be good. I will be back soon.

Better Living Through Chemistry

noreply@blogger.com (Dave) — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 16:51:00 +0000

I never took chemistry in school. That stuff seems entirely too taxing for me. Besides, I just don't trust those chem dudes. When the pocket protector geeks mass, there is always trouble a-brewin'. And don't tell me that nobody uses a pocket protector anymore. Those things still exist. They just come in the form of those computery gizmos the eggheads wear on belt clips. These guys still can't get a date. The really cool English/Journalism major dazzlers like me traffic in strained metaphors and tired cliches. Open any urban rag these days and some nerd reporter is waxing all poetic about the importance of team chemistry. How lame is that? Is it any wonder we can't get dates either.

It's bad enough prose pushers buy into this nonsense but Sabean has soaked millions into this Lifetime Movie of the Week pap. Having a sharing and nurturing clubhouse is all well and good. Having a den of surly, distant and troubled me first creepos who actually win games is better. I don't have to share a soak in the whirlpool with any of these guys. I don't have to swap tax dodge schemes or agent horror stories. I am not going to any strip joint with any of these people. I don't care if they like each other or like me. Get me a few unseemly miscreants who fulfill my dream of a Giants World Series victory during some period of my life cycle and I am sleeping easy in my eternal rest.