Quarter Century: A Recent History of the San Francisco Giants in the Postseason: A Fanpost Novel, Part Two

When last we spoke, I left off the tale of past postseason woe with the anti-climax of 1997. 1998 is next in line, which might confuse some people: the Giants didn't make the postseason in1998. That's technically true, but they sort of did. In 1998, there were no pennat races - except for the Wild Card. In the East, the Braves won by an 18 game margin. In the Central, it was the Astros by 12.5 games. In the West, the San Diego Padres - who went on to be swept by the Yankees in Bruce Bochy's first World Series appearance - beat the Giants by a relatively narrow 9.5 games. But the Wild Card, that was a race. It was mostly a three-way affair (TWSS) between the Giants, Cubs, and Mets, with the Cardinals and the Dodgers lurking about the periphery. As the stretch run began, the Cubs and the Mets had the advantage over the Giants, who appeared dead in the water. In the last week or so of the season, however, something amazing happened. The Mets collapsed, losing their last 5 games. The Cubs scuffled, losing 5 of their last 7 going into the last game of the season. The Giants, though, went batshit: going into the season's last day, they won 6 in a row, and 9 of 10. As the last day of the season dawned, the Giants and Cubs were tied with 89 wins apiece, while the Mets were on the edge of elimination with 88. The Mets sealed their own fate by losing badly to Atlanta, giving the Braves their 106th win of the season. Those 1990s Braves teams were ridiculous, for those of you too young to remember - that they only won one World Series is baffling. So, it came down to the Giants and the Cubs. The Cubs had already given the Giants new life a few days earlier when they blew a 7-6 lead over Milwaukee. With Rod Beck pitching, the bases were loaded and there were two outs. Geoff Jenkins hit a routine fly ball to outfielder Brant Brown - who promptly dropped the ball, allowing the tying and winning runs to score. On the final game, another defensive miscue helped the Giants' chances - in the 11th, after Rod Beck had already pitched 2 2/3 innings, Sammy Sosa misplayed a Carl Everett shot into a triple, allowing the Astros to score the winning run in the next at-bat on a sacrifice fly. The Giants suddenly controlled their own destiny, and the Cubs were reduced to scoreboard watching.

Fortunately, the Giants were playing the sub-.500 Colorado Rockies that day. Unfortunately, the game was held in a pre-humidor Coors Field. In typical 1990s Coors fashion, the Giants took an early 7-0 lead- and then blew it, allowing 6 runs in the 5th and 2 more in the 7th. They tied in back up in the 8th, but in the 9th...well. You may have noticed how much a lot of long-time fans hate Neifi Perez. One reason is his horrible play with the team, and that Brian Sabean, in his infinite wisdom, gave the man a multi-year contract after he'd just had one of the worst seasons ever for the Royals (-3.2 WAR in 2002 - after he'd posted negative WARs in 1996, 1998 and 1999, and sub-1.0 WARs in 1997 and 2000). The other reason is this game. Perez lead off the ninth, and Robb Nen came in to preserve the tie. It should've been one of the great mismatches in history, especially considering how dominant Nen was in 1998. He posted a 1.52 ERA, 2.12 FIP, and 40 Saves. He had only given up 3 home runs all year - but goddamned if he didn't give up a home run to Neifi Fucking Perez then and there. Unbelievable. Fuck Coors.

But there was still hope, in the form of a one-game playoff. Unfortunately, the Giants had gone 3-6 against the Cubs that year, so it was in Wrigley. They had Mark Gardner pitching, and he wasn't dominant or anything, but he was as solid a pitcher as the team had in those days, and was one of those veteran-grit-knows-how-to-win types, supposedly, with a 13-5 record despite a thoroughly unremarkable 4.33 ERA. He'd gone 6-1 in the second half, too, with an ERA down around 3.00. The Cubs countered with the ever-aggravating Steve Trachsel, who was pretty much the same dude as Mark Gardner. The Giants had Bonds, Kent, and an about-to-retire but  inexplicably resurgent Joe Carter at the heart of their lineup, versus the relatively one-dimensional (that is to say, Sosa-centric) Cubs' lineup. It was going to be a tough game, especially in Wrigley, but definitely winnable.

Well. Needless to say, things didn't work out so well. After 4 1/2 scoreless innings, the Cubs scored 2 in the bottom of the 5th, and 2 more in the bottom of the 6th, all on Gardner's record. After Felix Rodriguez allowed an inherited runner to score (the Cubs' 4th of the day), the bullpen held the line - even Russ Ortiz came in for two-thirds of an inning. Until, that is, the 8th, when noted Omar Vizquel hater Jose Mesa gave up two hits - including a booming double to Mark Grace - and a wild pitch leading to a run, making it 5-0 Cubbies. The Giants' bats, silent all day, finally came alive in the 9th against Kevin Tapani and then Terry Mulholland, who combined for just 1 out in the inning while facing 5 batters. Mayne and Mueller lead off with singles, and then Stan Javier made it 3 and drove in the first run of the day. Ellis Burks then walked to load the bases - still nobody out. Barry Bonds coming up. Barry fucking Bonds. Bases loaded, down four runs. The perfect story started unfolding in the imagination of every Giants fan. And Bonds swung, and Bonds hit it high, and Bonds hit it deep - and Sosa caught it on the track. Mueller scored, making it 5-2, but suddenly, the wind was out of our sails. Still, Kent was up next: another chance. Rod Beck, just one year removed from his Giants tenure, came in for the final two outs - and the Giants went out with a wimper. Groundout from Kent, and a foul popup from Carter in what would prove to be the final at bat of his career. In the end, the one-game playoff was a microcosm of the whole season: the Giants fell behind and seemed out of it early, and they clawed back and fought like hell, but in the end, it just wasn't enough. The Cubs made it back to the postseason for the first time since they faced the Giants in the 1989 NLCS - and, of course, being the Cubs, the got swept in 3 games, being outscored by the Braves by a combined score of 15-4.

1999, too, ended in disappointment, though it was more of a foregone conclusion that time - they finished in second place, but 14 games behind the Diamondbacks and 11 games behind the Wild Card-winning Mets. It was a letdown, but it wasn't torture because the Giants were never REALLY in the race.

2000, though. It's hard to overstate just how good that team was. Maybe even better than the 1993 team which won 103 but fell one short of the playoffs. In 2000 they won 97. They went wire-to-wire, never falling out of first place in the NL West and finishing 11 games ahead of the Dodgers. They posted the best run differential in the majors - +178, with the next best team (the White Sox) being almost 40 runs behind them at +139. The lineup was ridiculous, with three guys posting an OPS+ of over 160 (Bonds 188, Burks 163, Kent 162). J.T. Snow had one of his good years, and even the catcher, Bobby Estalella, posted an OPS+ of 113 and 14 home runs. All told, the starting 8 posted 181 home runs - with another 41 coming off the bench and 4 hit by the pitching staff. The weakest links in the lineup were Marvin Benard (92 OPS+) and Bill Mueller in an off-year (87 OPS+). Off the bench, they had two major weapons in Armando Rios (.266 / .347 / .502 with 10 HR and a 118 OPS+ in 269 PA) and Ramon Martinez in a career year (.302 / .354 / .487 at a 117 OPS+ in 210 PA). The main concern most of us had with the lineup was how to get Rios and Martinez at bats. The pitching staff wasn't as good, but it featured solid performers in Livan Hernandez (3.75 ERA, Shawn Estes (4.26 ERA), Kirk Rueter (3.96 ERA), and Mark Gardner (4.05 ERA). The bullpen looked great, with Robb Nen (1.50 ERA, 41 SV, 92 K in 66 IP) and Felix Rodriguez (2.64 ERA, 95 K in 81 2/3 IP) both having monster years.

Better yet, the Giants were going up against the weakest NL playoff team, the Wild Card-winning Mets, in the first round. The Giants won easily in Game 1, coasting to a 5-1 victory on the strength of a great start by Livan Hernandez (how it pains me to say that now...) and a home run by Ellis Burks. Game 2, in San Francisco, was rougher. Al Leiter pitched great for the Mets, who lead 2-1 most of the night. In the 9th, noted future shitty Giant Edgardo Alfonzo hit a seemingly back-breaking home run in the top of the 9th, making it 4-1. Noted never-was-never-will-be Timo Perez was also a horrible best, going 3-5 with 2 RBIs. In the bottom of the 9th, though, the Giants rallied. Barry lead off with a double, and - wait for it - ARMANDO BENITEZ came in to relieve Al Leiter. This may shock you, but he didn't do very well. Jeff Kent hit a single, but it didn't look like it would drop, so Bonds wasn't able to advance - cue tall tales of the legendary postseason choker. Ellis Burks then flied out, and J.T. Snow came up as a pinch hitter - he'd sat the game out against the tough lefty. J.T. Snow came up. I remember the whole at bat so well. I was in college at the time, going to school in Downtown Manhattan and commuting to school from a basement in central New Jersey because I was on the waiting list for student housing. New York and New Jersey were, of course, more Yankees territory than Mets, but still, there were Mets fans all around. Before game 1, I showed up in class as a classmate boasted how the series would be an easy win for the Mets. I cleared my throat conspicuously and pointed to my Giants hat. Every day, when I walked to the train station, I passed by a house flying a gigantic Mets flag in the front yard. I was the only person I ever saw with a Giants hat. I wanted so badly for the Giants to win, and was so sure they were - they were such a good team, and so much better than the Mets. So, J.T. Snow came up, and I watched from Highland Park, New Jersey, standing behind the couch in fear, my knuckles deathly pale. The count went to 2-1  - yeah, it was Benitez - I said to myself, "Man, it would be so fucking awesome if he hit one out here." And then, the pitch - a fat one - and Snow CRUSHED it to right. Not into the water, I don't think, but he hit it high, and there was no doubt. I jumped up and down, literally, and screamed, all alone in the living room. Amazing. A classic moment. A part of Giants' lore. But it wasn't to be. After two quick outs in the top of the 10th, ex-Giant Darryl Hamilton doubled, and Jay Payton drove him in with a single. In the bottom of the 10th with a single. The Giants went down with a wimper in the 10th.

And then, game 3. If game 2 wasn't quite heartbreaking enough for you, just wait. Early 2-0 lead for the Giants. Mets score one in the 6th, tie it in the 8th. And then 0, 0, 0, 0, and on into the 13th inning, still tied 2-2. In the 13th, the Giants blew a chance to go ahead in front of the Shea faithful: with two on and two, Bonds popped out and ended the inning. Aaron Fultz, a back-of-the-bullpen lefty who'd already thrown a scoreless 12th, came back for one more: he was, after all, already the fifth reliever used by the Giants that night. After falling behind Robin Ventura 2-0, he got him to ground out. And then, BENNY FUCKING AGBAYANI. Agabyani, the original shit-eating-grin-Hawaiian-outfielder who tormented the Giants, came up. Ball one. And then the pitch - he hit it high and deep to left - and it's gone. The crowd at Shea went batshit. They lost game 1, and could just as easily have lost 2 and 3 for the sweep, but somehow, unbelievably, they were now up 2-1 in the series.

Game 4 is another one I can't say much about. They gave up 2 runs in the first, and that was all they had to give up, though they added 2 more later. Didn't matter. The Mets' fourth starter, Bobby Jones, he of the 5.06 ERA and near-0 WAR, allowed just one hit all night - a double to Jeff Kent. This below average pitcher somehow completely shut down the best offense in the league. Another exit with a whimper. In the end, it was the two worst teams in the postseason, the Yankees (87 wins, +57 run differential) and the Mets (94 wins, +69 run differential) who made the World Series, and a sad Series it was, with the Yankees sweeping.

2001, in terms of the playoff race, ended on a bittersweet note: the Giants lost and were officially eliminated the same day Barry Bonds broke Mark McGwire's single season home run record. They finished two games behind the eventual World Series winning Arizona Diamondbacks in a year when they lost a 1-0 18 inning game against the DBacks themselves.

2002, in a way, was a retread of 2000. The lineup wasn't quite as good, though they did have as good a lineup, they did now have a true ace in Jason Schmidt, and Barry Bonds having one of the best seasons in modern history (.370 / .582 / .799 - with a 268 OPS+ and a mind-boggling 13 WAR. Like 2000, it was never really in doubt they would make the playoffs. They finished 2 1/2 games behind the Diamondbacks in the West, but 3 1/2 games ahead of the Dodgers for the Wild Card - the only time to date the Giants have won the Wild Card. They also finished with the best run differential in the league, and the third best in baseball - +167. As the Wild Card winner, though, they had a tough path through October, first facing the Braves (101 wins), then the Diamondbacks (98 wins) or Cardinals (97 wins). The early returns didn't look too promising, either. After winning a wild 8-5 contest in game one, the Giants dropped two straight to the Braves, 7-3 and 10-2. The pitching was getting battered, and the only bright spot appeared to be Barry Bonds, who was finally disproving the postseason choker reputation with 2 home runs in the first 3 games. So, they had to win two straight - one in San Francisco, and then one in Atlanta. They came up huge in game 4, scoring 7 in the first 3 innings off of Tom Glavine and cruising to an easy 8-3 victory. In game 5, Russ Ortiz took the mound and gave the Giants 5 1/3 innings, allowing 1 run - and then the bullpen shut the Braves down with 3 2/3 scoreless. Barry hit a third home run to lead off the 4th, and the Giants lead all night. Finally, for the first time since the 1989 NLCS, the Giants had won a postseason series.

Next up were the St. Louis Cardinals, fresh off sweeping the defending World Series champs in the NLDS. The Cardinals were considered the favorite, and definitely the sentimental choice as well. Both their ace starting pitcher, Darryl Kile, and their long-time play-by-play man, Jack Buck (a fine announcer despite his son) had died during the season. Fox, in its infinite wisdom, assigned to the series the two broadcasters who nobody could possibly expect to be neutral in such an emotionally charged situation: longtime ex-Cardinal Tim McCarver and Joe Buck, still mourning his father. They also showed endless video montages of Kile's young son, Kannon Kile, playing and cavorting and looking sad, all set to sappy string music. Clearly, Win One For Kannon was the narrative Fox wanted to push, and push it they did. Over. And over. Again. Hey, look, it's Kannon Kile. He lost his father. And now on the field is cute little raggamuffin Kannon Kile. Did we mention his FATHER is DEAD and he is SAD, and he wants the Cardinals to WIN a WORLD SERIES? Over and over again. Nonstop. It got so bad that I ended up writing a furious email to Fox Sports, ripping them for exploiting the sad situation. I never got around to sending it, but I did save it with the file name "Die in the ass, McCarver," and I'll quote part of it here:

Tim McCarver and Joe Buck, who seems to have no qualifications as an announcer beyond his famous parentage, have been using Kannon Kile and the death of Darryl Kile to manipulate the loyalties of viewers. Throughout the series, they have been implying to viewers that to root against the Cardinals is the crush the dream of a young child who has just lost his father. Aside from being a disgusting and shameless tactic, this type of blatant bias has no place in a national broadcast, in which announcers are expected to be impartial.

Furthermore, Fox Sports’ decision to use Tim McCarver as one of its main announcers is, to say the least, unfortunate. I have spoken to many other baseball fans, and I have yet to find one who considers McCarver to be anything other than terrible as an announcer. It amazes me that he still manages to find employment in the broadcasting field, let alone on a national playoff broadcast.

Unfortunately for Fox, and fortunately for the Giants and basic decency, the Sad Kannon Kile narrative was denied them: the Giants jumped out to a 5-1 lead in the first game, and, but for a few bumps in the road, they never looked back. Benito Santiago hit a key tie-breaking home run in ninth inning of game 4, earning himself the NLCS MVP award and the Giants a 3-1 series lead. The next day, they clinched their first trip to the World Series since 1989 in front of the home crowd, beating the Cardinals 2-1 thanks to a brilliant start from Kirk Ruter and a ninth-inning, run-scoring single from deadline acquisition Kenny Lofton. And at the moment the Giants shut the door on the Cardinals and eliminated them from contention, what did Fox show? A replay of Santiago's home run, or Barry Bonds's many key hits? A montage of Kirk Rueter's excellent game 5 start, shutting down the amazing Cardinals lineup? No, of course not. THEY SHOWED A VIDEO TRIBUTE TO JACK BUCK. Which, you know, has its time and place. He was a Hall of Famer who was the voice of the Cardinals for decades. But THE OTHER TEAM JUST CLINCHED and THAT'S what you show first!? Ridiculous and shameless.

But never mind: on to the World Series. And I believed so much that they would win. I was, from the moment the Giants came back to beat the Braves, a true believer that this was the year. So when the Giants won game one on the strength of home runs from Barry Bonds, Reggie Sanders, and J.T. Snow, I was ecstatic. In game 2, they hit even better, with home runs from Sanders, Bonds, David Bell, and Jeff Kent, but Russ Ortiz shit his pants, allowing 7 earned runs in 1 2/3 innings, and the bullpen was weak, too - Felix Rodriguez gave up 2 in just a third of an inning. The Giants lost a sloppy 11-10 squeaker. It was back to San Francisco, though, it was back to...to....aw, shit. Livan "I Don't Lose in the Postseason" Hernandez starting. 6 runs, 5 earned, in 3 2/3. 5 hits, 5 walks, so it could've been even worse. A 10-4 drubbing in front of the home crowd. Down 2-1. Not looking good. And then, Game 3, Rueter seemed to offer up more of the same, giving up 3 runs in 3 innings. But then he settled down for 3 scoreless innings, and the Giants tied it back up. In the 8th, they broke through: a solid single, a passed ball, and a David Bell RBI single. Nen shut them down in the 9th, and the series was tied.

And then game 5. Oh, game 5. Before game 2 of the 2010 World Series, I would have a hard time describing it to today's Giants fans, because it was a game we don't see much of now. But it was not unlike the first two games of this World Series: 6 runs in the first two innings, 3 home runs, 16 hits, 2 Angels errors, and a final score of 16-4 Giants. Chad Zerbe - probably the last man in our bullpen depth chart, but a personal favorite of mine - got the victory, one of the biggest highlights of his solid but unspectacular career.

Back in the mid-90s - post-1993, pre-1997 - I lived with my family in Central New Jersey, and I was the only Giants fan I knew. The team was in disorder those years, and it wasn't even like the disorder they were in from 2005-2007, when they at least had baseball's best ballpark to fall back on. They were still in the 'Stick at this point, drawing about 15,000 fans to most of their games and nearly forgotten by the league. But when I discovered WFAN, New York's sports radio station, I found one other Giants fan - Chris Russo. He was a buffoon - I knew that, even then - but, aside from my father, he was the only person in my east coast world who gave a damn about the Giants, and he loved them as much as I did. So I listened. Well, by 2002, the Yankees had started their YES Network, and they carried a tv broadcast of Russo's show with Mike Francesa's radio show. I watched it a couple of times, just out of nostalgia. After game 5, I caught a few minutes, where Francesa tried to needle Chris Russo into actually SAYING that the Giants were about to finally win the World Series. Russo squirmed for a bit before finally saying it: yes. Yes. They would win. Definitely. They would win one of the next two games.

He wasn't alone. Back then, here's what I wrote for my personal website following Game 5:

The Miracle at Coogan's Bluff, only in California this time

October 26, 2002 1:36 AM Connecticut

And then, game 6. We all know game 6. We remember the big 5-0 lead, but it's easy to forget now that that lead was a relative blip. It was very close for most of the game - scoreless through 4, then 3 in the 5th, 1 in the 6th, and 1 in the seventh. And then. And then. And then. Ortiz suddenly hittable after being dominant all night. Pulled. Game Ball. Felix Rodriguez. The pitch to Scott Spezio: the three run home run from Scott Spezio. It's 5-3, and the Angels fans in the ballpark are absolutely insane off the hook. I'm livid, of course. I start screaming at the television: "YOU'RE STILL LOSING, MOTHERFUCKERS! YOU'RE STILL MOTHERFUCKING LOSING! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I was still a college student in New York, but I wasn't in New York for the game. I was in Connecticut, visiting my girlfriend - now my wife - for the weekend. I scared her then. We'd been together for just over a year, and she had never seen me like that before. I had to leave the room when the inning ended, try to collect myself. It didn't work.

And then, of course, the ninth. Home run for Erstad. 5-4. Single, and a single, and then Glaus's double, and the unthinkable has happened: it's 6-5 Angels. The Giants went down 1-2-3 in the 9th, and I was dead silent and dead inside, a little. My girlfriend wasn't scared anymore: she was pissed at me. We barely said a word to each other all night. She wasn't a baseball fan, though we'd gone to a game together and had a great time, and there was nothing in her life that obsessed her and tormented her in quite the way that baseball did for me. She didn't understand, and I was in no mood to help explain.

"They can still win tomorrow," she told me. I shook my head. "You don't come back after a loss like that. The Red Sox didn't come back after Bill Buckner. You just don't do it. It's over." 

Game 7 followed, of course. I watched it. I hardly remember it, though. I remember that Livan Hernandez was terrible, and that I hated him forevermore, and I remember the last at bat. It was Kenny Lofton, and he was the potential tying run. I remember that he popped out to center field, and it was pretty routine, but off the bat, for just a second, I thought it had a chance. I lept to my feet, ready to believe all over again, and then there was Darin Erstad, catching it, no problem, and it was all over. So close. So close. So motherfucking close. I had believed completely and truly, and they had broken my heart worse than ever before. I would never believe quite so completely again. I didn't have it in me anymore.

I didn't write anything for my website after game 6 or after game 7. I did say, "Told you so," to my girlfriend after the game 7 loss. She said, a day or two later, still mad at my horrible mood and my anger and my depression, "No offense, but I kind of hope the Giants don't make the playoffs next year."

They did, of course. They won 100 games. They won game 1 of the NLDS against the Marlins. Jason Schmidt was incredible. And game 2 they lost. And game 3, they killed me again. You all know the story. 11th inning. They take the lead on an error, 3-2. A routine fly ball to Jose Cruz in right field, and it should've been an out and nobody on, but he dropped it. He fucking dropped it. A walk. A bunt. An intentional walk. And then the back-breaker, a two-run single to left field, and the Giants are down 2 games to 1. It's funny how memory works, though. I don't remember Cruz's error as being the first play of the inning. I remember it as being the play that scored the runs, and I remember it coming with two outs instead of none. As bad as it was, I've made it even worse in my memory.

And game 4. Comeback from a 4-0 deficit, and then a 7-6 loss, after an aborted comeback in the 9th. To be honest, I don't even remember the game. Another anti-climax.

Of course, it wasn't the end of the world: the Giants had made the postseason 3 of the last 4 years. They'd just won 100 games. They'd be back. They had Barry, and they had Schmidt, and they had a good supporting cast. Of course, we all know how that turned out: no trip back to the postseason until this year.

And now here we are, up 2-0 in the postseason, and heading to Arlington full of confidence. But if we've been around long enough, we've been here before. We can't just assume we're going to win. We know better, or we should. I'm not encouraging fatalism - I'm very optimistic right now, myself - but if  there's one lesson to learn as a Giants fan, it's to never, ever, ever declare victory before it's 100% done. Do that now, and if the Giants find a way to lose, you'll feel like I did in 2002: like you're going to die. it ain't worth it. If they win, there'll be plenty of time to celebrate when it's done.