Lots of great news here at “Giants Past and Present” world headquarters:
I will be updating “Giants Past and Present” to include the great stories of the 2012 World Series Champions! The third edition of the book should be out by Opening Day 2013. I will organize some public events and look forward to celebrating another Giants championship.
If you have any ideas of photos that belong in the book, please let me know! My own favorite is the photo from this post of Marco Scutaro, joyfully drinking in the rain in the waning moments of the clinching seventh game of the NLCS.
In addition, I contributed a few articles to the San Francisco Chronicle’s fabulous 72-page commemorative section on the champs that ran Sunday. My stories:
How do these Giants compare to other great Giant teams of the past? They may not be as great as the Willie Mays-Willie McCovey teams of the 1960s, but with two titles in three years, they may rank even higher. Bill Kent, the leader of the New York Baseball Giants Nostalgia Society, who has seen a few great Giant squads in his day, said this year’s model had the most guts.
The Giants’ success starts on the farm. The Giants managed to win a World Series without going out and signing a bunch of high-priced free agents, a rarity in the modern era. The biggest free agent on the team was Barry Zito, who we had come to think of as the biggest bust before #rallyzito won him a new place in our hearts.
Giant relics from 2012 World Series heading to Hall of Fame. And wouldn’t you rather see the bat Pablo Sandoval used to hit two home runs off Justin Verlander, instead of that Barry Bonds baseball that some knucklehead branded with an asterisk?
And, not that this has anything to do with me or my book, but I had a lot of fun watching Ashkon Davaran‘s new Giants’ video, “We Are the Champions” and thought I’d share it here. (Video is embedded below.) Ashkon’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” video defined the Giants’ run through the 2010 postseason. Falling down the YouTube rabbit hole, I found another pretty funny Giants’ song, “SF Giants Style,” a parody of “Gangnam Style,” the song that took over AT&T Park this fall. It is great to be a Giants’ fan.
Speaking of songs at the ballpark, I was excited to learn that the Fist Pump Granny is actually Giant executive Mario Alioto‘s mother!
So why do the San Francisco Giants wear orange and black?
My former colleague from the San Francisco Chronicle, Anastasia Hendrix, posed that question last week. She was generous enough to include my answer in her story in this past Sunday’s Style section.
Alas, my answer was incomplete. I knew orange and black were always there, and became dominant in the 1940s, but I didn’t know why. It’s obvious why, say, the Princeton Tigers are orange and black, and the Baltimore Orioles; they are following Mother Nature’s lead. But the Giants? (Or the Oregon State Beavers?)
Thanks to a friend who is apparently more skilled searching the Internet than I am, a new possibility has emerged. This from WikiAnswers:
Before managing the Giants, John McGraw managed a National League version of the Baltimore Orioles (not the AL Orioles of 1901, who would become the NY Yankees in 1903). When McGraw left Baltimore, along with some of his players, he also took the orange, black and white team colors to NY for the Giants.
I want to do a little more research, before accepting that explanation. I looked at several books I have about the New York Giants, and while many talk about McGraw’s defection from Baltimore – he even brought many players with him – none mention the orange. (McGraw did try out Christy Mathewson in a game in Orange, N.J., but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count.) Baseball Almanac has a great page on uniforms, and includes some information on the orange and black, noting that McGraw brought orange to the Orioles’ uniforms, and black to the Giants, but doesn’t mention the melding of the colors in either city.
Baseball Almanac does cite a definitive reference, which I will need to track down: Marc Okkonen’s book, Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century (Sterling Publishing, 1991). Until then, hey, it’s Halloween – the whole country can celebrate the Giants in their orange and black!
UPDATE (Nov. 5, 2012): This weekend, I bought Okkonen’s book, and what a beautiful thing it is. It clarified one point: McGraw did not bring orange to the Giants from Baltimore. (McGraw did love to fiddle with uniform design, and he’s the guy who introduced the collarless uniforms now de rigeur in baseball.) In fact, the Giants did not use orange trim until 1933 – the year after McGraw retired. They won the World Series that year, and orange has remained on the uniform ever since.
Since the glory season of 2010, orange has returned to a prominence in Giants Nation not seen since the days of the double-knits in the 1970s.
It’s also worth noting that when the New York Mets were established in 1962, they took their colors from the National League predecessors who had left New York five years earlier – blue from the Brooklyn Dodgers, and orange from the Giants. (Yet the Mets new ballpark at Citi Field pays far more homage to the Dodgers, and virtually ignores Giants’ history. I guess the Giants got the last laugh this year, getting Angel Pagan from the Mets.)
I almost did not recognize my San Francisco Giants when they started this postseason. And I’m not referring to the complete changeover in the starting eight from 2010 – with only Buster Posey remaining. (Pablo Sandoval rode the pine in that historic postseason.)
What I was wondering, less than one month ago: Where was the Torture? The Giants clinched the West so early, the world seemed upside-down.
But through the National League Division Series against the Cincinnati Reds, and the National League Championship Series against the St. Louis Cardinals, the Giants have shown that even though they have so many new cast members, they all know the script: Torture.
Having fallen behind two games to none against the Reds, the Giants managed to come all the way back. They proceeded to drop three of the first four games to the Cards, and once again won three straight to take the pennant.
Memo to Bruce Bochy and the boys: Please just win this next series early!
I had great fun the other day discussing this and other weighty matters on Michael Krasny‘s excellent program Forum on KQED. (Krasny graciously said that “Giants Past and Present” is “one of the best books about the Giants.”) You can listen to the show here:
The show opened with Giants’ President Larry Baer, and you could really hear how much fun he’s having. Larry is a lifelong Giants fan in his dream job, and you can’t help but smile every time you see him. Then Michael led a spirited discussion with me, KNBR’s awesome Marty Lurie, and San Jose Mercury News columnist Mark Purdy. I sure learned a lot listening to those guys – especially when Marty told us that, however bad Pete Kozma played shorstop for the Cardinals in the NLCS, he was not as bad as the Washington Senators’ Roger Peckinpaugh in the 1925 World Series, who made eight errors! (Another highlight: Marty let me try on his 2010 World Series ring – and it is a thing of beauty!)
One thought I had that I did not get to share: As we discussed the Giants, and beautiful AT&T Park, I wanted to give props to General Manager Brian Sabean for building a team perfect for its ballpark. Instead of going out and signing home run hitters, who only get frustrated with the park’s wide open spaces, Sabean brought in gap hitters like Angel Pagan, Marco Scutaro and Gregor Blanco. You could put Melky Cabrera in there too (even though we don’t really like to talk about him any more), and it looks like it’ll be a good fit for the Brandons – Belt and Crawford. Need I say Buster Posey?
And maybe, if Hunter Pence hits more line drives like his famed “triple double” from game 7 of the NLCS – the ball that hit the bat three times – instead of swinging for the fences, the Giants will have the ingredients necessary to foil those big bopping Tigers.
After all, Marty Lurie viewed Pence’s lucky-breaking line drive as karmic payback for Willie McCovey’s smash that ended the 1962 World Series. No one could have hit that ball any harder, but it went straight to the Yankees’ Bobby Richardson. Pence’s ball curved away from Kozma, and the Giants were in business.
It’s good to be good. But sometimes it’s better to be lucky.
Even if it’s a little Torturous.
The San Francisco Giants’ whole improbable, ridiculous, joyful, torturous ride through the 2010 baseball season has ended in the most improbable, ridiculous, joyful but definitely not torturous fashion. The Giants are World Champions and San Francisco is celebrating like never before.
The rings that the players will get are more than just symbols of this incredible season. They are pure redemption for all the incredible players who came through here before, all the close calls, near-misses, heartaches and yes, Torture, that the Giants and their fans have endured for more than a half-century in San Francisco.
It’s redemption for Dusty Baker and Russ Ortiz and that exhausted, overworked bullpen of 2002. It’s redemption for Robb Nen who was so clutch yet couldn’t stop little Neifi Perez in 1998. It’s redemption for Saloman Torres and the 103-win team of 1993. It’s redemption for Candy Maldonado and the sliding-catch-that-wasn’t in 1987. It’s redemption for Juan Marichal, blowing his top in 1965 and blowing a pennant in the process. It’s redemption for Barry Bonds, who thrilled us on the field, but left us in the humiliating position of defending his behavior. It’s redemption for Horace Stoneham, who gave us frigid Candlestick Park, and for Bob Lurie, who tried and failed to get rid of it.
These and so many other people have given Giant fans so many great memories, so many winning seasons, so many pennant races and playoffs that we have no right to complain. But like Chris “Mad Dog” Russo declared so plaintively after that punch to the gut from the Florida Marlins in 2003 — and yes, this is also redemption for Jose Cruz Jr., as hard as that is to write — we wanted to know what it would be like for the Giants to win just one time. Just one lousy goddamn time!
Now we know.
It’s amazing. Gratifying. Stupendous. Mind-boggling.
I am soaking it all in. We screamed til we were hoarse. We leapt off chairs at Paragon, a block from the ballpark. We high-fived and hugged friends and strangers. We honked our horn all the way through the city, with every landmark – the Ferry Building, Coit Tower, City Hall – bathed in orange light.
I heard Mike Krukow quoting J.T. Snow on the radio last night, saying this was closure for 2002. Kruk clearly felt closure for 1987/1989, and he cited all those same players who were all pulling for this Giants team to finally exorcise those ghosts.
“It’s crazy to think with all the great baseball players who have come through San Francisco, there hasn’t been a World Series championship. The beautiful thing about the organization is, you’ve got guys like Will Clark here. You’ve got J.T. Snow here. You’ve got Shawon Dunston here. When we get back to San Francisco, we’ll have Willie Mays and Willie McCovey and Gaylord Perry. The list goes on and on. It’s so humbling to have won the first World Series in San Francisco. It’s unbelievable.”
Thank you, Buster, for saying that. And thank you, Matt Cain, the longest serving Giant, who has known such hard luck and come through like such a pro. And thank you, Brian Wilson, who has defined this team and this city, from torture to the whole bearded freaky orange-and-black Halloween championship. (Neither Wilson nor Cain gave up an earned run in the playoffs!) And thank you, Bill Neukom, Brian Sabean, Bruce Bochy, Tim Lincecum, Madison Bumgarner, Edgar Renteria – what is redemption if not Renteria (and Bochy and Sabean), vilified by fans, turning heroic on the biggest stage of all? – thank you to all the Giants past and present for making this moment possible. Thank you Aubrey Huff, for the thong, the quotes, the home runs and most of all, the first sacrifice bunt of your career. What a sacrifice! Thank you, too, to Duane Kuiper, for giving us Torture, and to Mike Krukow, Jon Miller and Dave Flemming, for unparalleled insight and enthusiasm. Thank you to the great middle relievers, the incredible untold story of this team, and to Barry Zito, a class act and hard-luck, hard-working pitcher. Is there any Giant we don’t just love today?
I can’t wait to see those Hall of Famers participating in the parade they long-deserved. hope the great Willie Mays, who was in the parade that welcomed the Giants to San Francisco in 1958, will be well enough to ride in this one. I look forward to Willie McCovey, a fearsome slugger best remembered for his line drive out in 1962, getting that round of cheers from the fans who love him so much.
Our Giant fandom has been torture at times. We reveled in the torture. How sweet it is to revel in victory instead.
With the World Series that opened in San Francisco tonight, the Giants started battling some old ghosts. The team had been greeted with a ticker tape parade on its arrival in The City in 1958, but it hasn’t had one since, as it’s always come up just shy of winning it all.
But this year feels different. I know, I know, we should not get ahead of ourselves and predict a Giant victory – but I can’t help but feel that this team has what it takes for that ultimate Champagne shower. And believe me, I am one of those fans who is reminding everyone that, even as the Giants were romping in Game One, the Rangers had lost Game One to the Yankees, too.
But the tension at the end of tonight’s game – tension that should not exist in a game where you have an ace pitcher and score 11 runs – reminded me of the essential difference between this Giant team and all the other San Francisco squads that fell short is: Torture.
Yes, that word. Giant fans know it all too well. But we kept it in our closets. It lurked underneath our orange jerseys, the ones with Mays or McCovey or Clark or Bonds on the back – all those Giants who never won World Series in San Francisco (Mays won one in New York). We did not wear it on our sleeves, like Red Sox fans. We did not have a Curse that we could curse, like the Cubs and the Red Sox and the White Sox.
Yet this year, Duane Kuiper – he of the one career home run – put a stamp on the Giants early, recognizing a team that would win or lose its games by one Torturous run. “Giants baseball!” he would declare after such a finish. “Torture!”
The Giants adopted the phrase. It even started turning up in manager Bruce Bochy’s postgame interviews. Kuiper told me in September that the Giants organization wanted him to tone it down, but even if he stopped, his partner Mike Krukow – sunny Kruk, who always predicts the possibility of a pennant – picked up on the theme. And Torture was too true not to stick.
Anyway, these Giants have barely been in town long enough to know the Tortured history. The entire starting lineup basically arrived either this year or last. Matt Cain is the longest tenured Giant, and he just turned 26 and made his debut in 2005. No one knows 2002, to say nothing of 2003 (Jose Cruz!), or 2000, or the other epic choke jobs that long defined Torture for the fans.
But now we are buying Torture T-shirts and laughing in the face of Torture — at least, when it isn’t Torturing us, with Brian Wilson walking the go-ahead run in the ninth inning and then getting a 3-2 count on the Phillies most dangerous hitter.
Of course, if they don’t win, I anticipate it’ll be in pretty Torturous fashion as well. The people who proclaimed the Torture to be over after the Giants won the division learned the hard way that it doesn’t end; as Ashkon sings in the YouTube video that defines this playoff run, “it goes on and on and on and on.”
Torturous Giant losses are nothing new. They go back to the team’s earliest days. Fred Merkle failed to touch second base on a game-winning hit, costing the Giants a pennant. Fred Snodgrass muffed a fly ball, costing the team the 1912 World Series. There are botched rundowns at home plate, bad hop grounders in the ninth inning of seventh games, and years of devastating defeats to the Yankees, who taunted them from right across the Harlem River.
And that was nothing. Once the Giants got to San Francisco, they raised Torture to an art form.
They lost their first West Coast Series to, yes, the Yankees, in a heartbreaker that still stings: a 1-0 Game 7 loss to the Yankees defined by the final pitch, which resulted a smash off the bat of Hall of Famer Willie McCovey that somehow landed in Bobby Richardson’s glove, instead of scoring the tying and winning runs from second and third bases. A team full of Hall of Famers never made it back, instead taking five straight second place finishes, often to the hated Dodgers.
And never mind other ignominies, like 1987 (Candy Maldonado! Jose Oquendo!) – the Giants’ World Series experience has always been an exercise in creative Torture, as if devised by some Folsom Street dominatrix: a four-game sweep in the earthquake marred 1989 Series; and a horrific meltdown in the 2002 Series when – up 3 games to 2, and with a 5-0 lead and eight outs to go in Game 6, the Giants managed to cough up the lead, the game, and the whole World Series.
That sort of wrenching loss has long been a Giants hallmark, even when they were based in New York, but the San Francisco iteration has turned it into an art form.
Yet along came the 2010 Giants, and we are believers all over again. And with the team back in the Fall Classic, I thought it prudent to look for historical comparisons and calculate the reasons why the Giants will – or won’t – win the Series this year.
Here – in honor of Cody Ross, and the most superstitious of sports, are 13 reasons why the Giants will win:
- It’s Magic Inside. Corny? Yes. Silly marketing-speak? You bet. But how else to explain how this ragtag group – these so-called knuckleheads, the so-called Dirty Dozen – could actually come from so far back to win the National League pennant? Whoever came up with the Magic campaign must have known something. Baseball is the most superstitious of sports. Why else would Aubrey Huff of the Giants parade around in a red thong?
- It’s Torture Inside. This team has embraced the Torture. For years, the Giants have denied their cursed position, unlike the Red Sox or Cubs. (I have a t-shirt purchased at Wrigley Field that reads: Chicago Cubs, World Champions, 1908.) But once you take ownership of something, you can start to use it. Owning the Torture means knowing that Brian Wilson can walk two guys in the ninth inning, because even though our ulcers start screaming, he’s going to get the called third strike and save the game.
- Curse-busters. If you’re going to end a curse, it helps to have people who have done it before. Like Juan Uribe and Aaron Rowand, veterans of the 2005 White Sox, which lifted the cloud of the 1919 Black Sox scandal in winning the club’s first Series in 86 years. (Javier Lopez pitched for the 2007 world champion Red Sox, but that was a second title for Boston, which broke its curse in 2004.)
- Curse opponents. If the Giants are cursed, the Rangers have it even worse. This squad has never even been to the World Series, either in its first incarnation as the Washington Senators (the second team with that name, established in 1961 after the original Senators became the Minnesota Twins), or in its many years trying to convince Texas football fans to brave 100 degree temperatures and watch baseball. Sorry, Rangers. It’s football season now.
- Players with no sense of history. Look at the heroes who joined the team this year: Aubrey Huff, Buster Posey, Madison Bumgarner, Cody Ross, Ramon Ramirez, Javier Lopez. Last year brought Juan Uribe, Edgar Renteria, and Andres Torres. No one on this team was here for Game 6 of the 2002 World Series. They don’t know that they can’t win.
- Revenge for 2002. The Giants are one-by-one erasing the memory of 2002 by dashing the latest dreams of former Angels David Eckstein (2010 Padres), Troy Glaus (2010x Braves) and now old teammate Bengie Molina (2010 Rangers).
- Will Clark. Will the Thrill – in many ways, the ultimate Giant – hit a home run off Nolan Ryan in his first major league at bat, and Ryan now owns the Texas Rangers.
- The Giants have some unfinished business with the Washington Senators. Okay, maybe a stretch – I mean, the Giants never played the Rangers’ actual precursors. But the last time the Giants played the original Senators, when John McGraw managed the “Jints” and Walter Johnson pitched for Washington, the Senators won their only Series when a routine grounder hit a pebble and skipped over Giants Hall of Fame third baseman Freddie Lindstrom, knotting the score and setting the stage for another bad-hop grounder that won the game and the Series in the 12th inning.
- The Yankee factor. The Rangers beat the Yankees – just like the 2004 Red Sox and 2002 Angels did in overcoming their curses. But the 2005 White Sox didn’t need to beat the Yankees. And the 2007 Tampa Bay Rays beat the Yankees and still managed to lose to the Phillies.
- The Texas factor. The 2005 White Sox won the Series by beating a team from Texas as cursed then as the Rangers are now – the Houston Astros.
- George Bush used to own the Rangers. ‘Nuff said.
- Ex-Cub factor: This rule of baseball, nearly immutable, decrees that the team with more ex-Cubs will lose. The Giants have Mike Fontenot, and Mark DeRosa has been out all year with an injury. The Rangers, though, have Andres Blanco and Clay Rapada – and the Cubs originally drafted Josh Hamilton, the Rangers’ best player.
- The underdog factor. The last time the Giants won the World Series, of course, no one gave them a chance against the Indians who destroyed the American League in 1954. And the Giants won four straight.
But of course, don’t take my word for any of this. That’s why they play the games. Which will, of course, be Torture.
Last week, I received something precious in my e-mail: A digital recording of the half-hour I had spent on the radio with Christopher “Mad Dog” Russo. You can listen to it here (look for the link to Mad Dog on that page), and I figure with the Giants ready to take on the Mets in New York – the city of the Giants’ birth and their greatest successes, and home base of one of their most avid fans – it would be appropriate to recount in greater detail that marvelous experience.
I have had some great radio experiences since my book was published, but none quite like the half hour I spent with Russo on “Mad Dog Radio” in New York in April. True to his nickname, Russo is a rabid Giants fan, with a deep knowledge that he can summon at a rapid rate.
Russo told me he became a Giants fan when he was eight years old. His father, a jeweler, took him to see the Giants play the Phillies in Philadelphia – this would have been around 1970 – and they went to the Giants’ hotel. “I got all of their autographs, except Willie Mays,” he told me. “Mays wouldn’t sign.”
Of such encounters, fandom begins, even for a kid on Long Island – even for someone who rose to become a kingpin of New York sports talk radio. Kudos to Russo for staying true to his team, in the face of all those Yankees and Mets fans! His Giants cred was sealed after the 2003 season, when he was still on WFAN on the “Mike and the Mad Dog” show; he went on a beautiful rant after that never-shoulda-happened loss to the Marlins, culminating in, “Just one lousy goddamn time!”
We had a spirited conversation, going through Giants history from John McGraw, through Bill Terry, Mel Ott and Leo Durocher, and through the 1960s, the Arctic years of the 1970s and ‘80s, and the return to glory with Will Clark and then Barry Bonds. We picked the 1962 Giants as the best team ever in San Francisco, although we also liked 1993 and 2002. He blamed Horace Stoneham for the failures in San Francisco; I agreed, but spread it a little wider.
We capped it off with a fantastic exercise, where Russo asked me to name my top 10 Giants of all time. With his help, our list: Mays, Christy Mathewson, Bonds, Willie McCovey, Juan Marichal, Buck Ewing, Ott, Carl Hubbell, Orlando Cepeda (questionable only for the duration of his Giants’ tenure) and Terry. We think Tim Lincecum is heading there, but hasn’t played long enough to earn the spot.
We agreed that Willie Mays was the best Giant of all time. I pick him as best player of all time; Russo says that’s Babe Ruth, because he could pitch as well; and that Joe DiMaggio was a better hitter.
Russo was also a generous host, and allowed my wife and son into the small Sirius studio; that’s my son, Harry, in the photo with me and the Mad Dog. (Footnote to a near close-encounter: As we signed in at the Sirius studios on the 36th floor of the McGraw Hill building in midtown Manhattan, I could see that a few minutes earlier, author Kitty Kelley – touting her new book on Oprah Winfrey – had signed in on the same ledger.)