By Steve Lyons
FOX Sports West & PRIME TICKET
November 4, 2010
On Thursday afternoon, I had writer's block.
The deadline for my column is midnight on Thursday to be posted on Friday.
It's 4:17 p.m., and though I should have lots of ideas considering the World Series just ended and I didn't even write last week, I don't know what to write.
It is hard to say this, but as a Dodger fan, it was with a weird yearning that I watched the Giants play in the World Series.
Like you, there are few things I like about the Giants. I like their manager, Bruce Bochy, he's just a great guy. I got to know him at a golf tournament in Las Vegas a number of years ago and we shot craps until 4 a.m. one night. We both got our clocks cleaned. He never has a bad word to say about anybody and the moves he made during the playoffs were gutsy and incredible. Moves that could have backfired but didn't, made him a genius. He played guys that hadn't played in months, sat down regulars with big salaries and even left players off the entire roster if he didn't think they could help.
When I played Winter Ball in Columbia, Edgar Renteria's older brother, Eddie, was our bat boy. Edgar used to chase us around the field and want to tag along with his brother. He was just seven years old at the time. So I was personally happy for Edgar and for the way he played after an injury filled and unproductive year.
Former Dodger Cody Ross is just a likable guy no matter what uniform he's wearing, and he played well too.
And I like Ron Wotus, their bench coach.
But that's about it.
My high school colors were black and orange.
My college colors at Oregon State were the same.
Yuk.
But you have to admit, it was exciting watching those guys play baseball. Didn't you catch yourself pulling, just a little bit, for the WAY they played?
Misfits? Maybe. Castoffs? Sure.
But they were scrappy and played hard. They made their at-bats count when they needed them, and they got huge performances from players that weren't supposed to do anything. Ross, Andres Torres, or as my girlfriend thought his name was Andre Estorrez, Renteria, the list goes on. And did anyone really think the youngster Madison Bumgarner would be THAT good?
Good thing too, because they got almost nothing out of their big guns like Aubrey Huff, Pat "Strike 3" Burrell and Pablo Sandoval. And their $126 million man Barry Zito didn't even make the roster.
Of course if you really want the true definition of futility, look up the numbers for the middle of the Texas Rangers' lineup. Vladimir Guererro struggled and Josh Hamilton, after being named ALCS MVP, went MIA hitting just 2-for-20.
All of this, and I didn't even mention how absolutely dominating the Giant pitchers were. It was embarrassing how sad they made the powerful Texas lineup look.
Tim Lincecum, Matt Cain, Bumgarner and Jonathan Sanchez.
Oh, they're comin back next year. And the next. And the next. The only one of them that's older than 26 is Sanchez.
Call me names if you will, but that's the type of baseball I want to watch. Pitchers that will bulldog their way through seven or eight innings and an offense that will score just enough runs to win. And a team that enjoys the heck out of being told they don't have enough to get it done.
Now, you can take the stupid Mohawk haircut and ridiculous black beard and can it, and the whole "let Tim smoke" campaign certainly sends the wrong message, but they gave their fans a few things to believe in when they needed it the most, and there's never anything wrong with that.
It's sad to say, but if the Dodgers are going to make any noise at all next year and beyond, they're gonna have to play more like the Giants.
One last note on the playoffs. When did the new generation of ballplayers screw up the classic picture of the final out?
You know the one I'm talking about, where the catcher jumps into the pitchers arms?
When the Rangers beat the Yankees, both pitcher and catcher didn't know where, or how to jump. And check out the cover of this week's Sports Illustrated. Wilson is right in position to catch the about-to-leap Posey as Wilson jumps up too, depriving the sensational rookie catcher of his photo op leap into history.
Baseball is a funny game. No matter how good Posey becomes, and no matter how long he plays, he may never get another chance.
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