When the A’s and the Giants play… everybody loses.
With the first weekend of Interleague Play, baseball fans around the nation have been enjoying new and classic rivalries, pitting brother against brother in classic Civil War style. At this time of year though, the A’s/Giants matchup makes me cringe.
Giants win 2-1 over A’s in 10 innings.
In my years as a Giants fanalyst, I’ve been outspoken about one thing above all else: Ryan Vogelsong is not a long-term replacement for Barry Zito. He doesn’t have any sort of track record that would indicate that he can sustain success, and despite Barry Zito’s poor start, he’s still a league-average pitcher who fills out a 4th or 5th starter spot pretty darn skillfully.
Well, make room on the Vogelstrong bandwagon, because I’m throwing that out the window. Continue reading
Published in Contra Costa Times, West County Times, Valley Times, May 21, 2005
Here’s my dirty little secret: I am a bicoastal baseball fan. I root for both the Giants and the Athletics, who play on opposite coasts of San Francisco Bay. This duality is heresy for many baseball fans, who call me a “bad fan†and consider sports loyalty an absolute, one-sided affair, even in a two-team market.
But how glorious to have two clubs to follow! When one wallows in mediocrity, the other is often a contender. One of my teams plays at home every day. If the other is on the East Coast, their starting times are staggered, and I can listen to or watch two games a day – an embarrassment of riches, for sure.
I first contracted this affliction shortly after the players’ strike of 1981. After filming an interview with manager Billy Martin in the A’s locker room, my producer and I slipped into the lower deck stands of the Coliseum behind first base. My professional film camera was our only ticket.
It was a brilliant afternoon, and I reveled in the sudden accessibility of the game I had loved from afar as a youth. The next night I dragged my wife to a game and started to follow the A’s on a daily basis. But at that time we lived in San Francisco, a few minutes from Candlestick Park, and I often slipped out to watch the Giants too.
Duality did not always afflict me. I grew up in the New York area, for a half century the only three-team market in baseball history. As a kid in Brooklyn and Long Island, I was the only fan in my family, and I followed the Dodgers of Snider, Campanella, and Reese, intrigued by their nicknames – Duke, Campy, and PeeWee. Then one fateful day those infamous Bums of Brooklyn rocked my world by announcing their move to California, along with the Giants (a team I knew or cared little about, though my ten-year-old mind was dimly aware they had a player named Mays who was pretty good).