Zitonian Rhapsody

Barry Zito rides into AT&T Park on his beloved unicorn, Powder, who is eating a Dodgers hat. (Illustration by Mac)

In honor of Rally Zito, with apologies to Mr. Mercury.


Is this not Matt Cain?
Is this not Vogelsong?
Caught in St. Louis, no escape from Carlos Beltran
It’s not a dream, tab out to your stream and scream… Continue reading


Giants Recap: Rumble

(Photo: cal_gecko/Flickr)

A couple years ago, the Giants had owned the neighborhood. Street corners, front stoops, the drive-in, the drug-store, the YMCA; wherever you went in the West Side, if you saw a fella coming in black and orange, you stepped lively out of his way. Buster had moved in then, in those glory days, and by the time he’d been there two months his girl was wearing a black leather jacket and his beat-up old jalopy had Giants spray-painted on the hood. He didn’t so much fit in as take over, and even if he wasn’t exactly the leader by name, everyone knew he was the guy. Someone had to be the guy, and Buster was it.

Even the rumble with the Fish didn’t really stop him. Sure, it was an ugly year on the West Side; Buster was in and out of the doc’s while one by one, the guys who’d welcomed him into the gang dropped off the face of the earth. It got too hot around the neighborhood for Cody’s old man or Andres’s girl, and Pat shocked them all by going off to college (though the word was he had a social disease and just wanted a new pool of girls). Aubrey hung around, but he was kind of a mess, too old to rumble and too young to really figure out his life. So when Buster finally got off his crutches and came back to the block, it was just him and the lifers – Timmy pushing tea on the corners, cool-headed Matt who was in charge if anyone was, Madison still daring people to ask him if he had a girl’s name, and the rest. Continue reading

Giants Recap: The Hipster-off

I don’t really know what went on before the game and during, but I assume that it was something like this.

 Nothing prepares me for a start like an avocado scramble. Good thing I packed some avocados from the outfield tree.



/awkward silence Continue reading

That Extra Special Veteran Glow

With the All-Star Break in progress, I find myself longing more and more for those tedious at-bats to watch*. I miss the games where every player’s batting average is slowly slipping through the Mendoza line*. But they’re the guys I root for, the ones in my team’s uniform, the ones with the extra special veteran glow.

Especially that Aubrey Huff’s .236 average. Can’t hit worth a darn, but he certainly makes up for it in charisma*. You can find it whenever he looks at that backup guy’s eyes. He brings something extra to the team. He’s a veteran and it’s not unusual for vets to bring a new level of understanding to the team.

Aaron Rowand. The man they should dub king of the extra special veteran glow*. No one gets that better than him. It’s a shame he couldn’t have been voted into the All-Star game on veteran savvy alone*. Those gamer catches, the gritty at-bats. And all for naught*! After all, his batting stance is the epitome of his persona, not to mention those face-first catches into the wall. My, what a player. I can’t wait to see his .347 SLG in the lineup again*.

You can’t find guys better than those on a team. And they’re just two examples of why the lineup is how it is. There’s a reason why they’re in the lineup in the first place*! They bring the extra special veteran glow to every game. You can’t win a ballgame without these guys*.

*Not really