On the eve of the McCovey Holy Season...

I'm lighting a candle and praying for Benitez tonight, whether it's to continue his outrageous luck or his outrageous command of the voodoo that helped him collect outs like they were bottle caps this spring.

Count me as one who has not been in this guy's corner, despite the late returns. After sucking it up and repeatedly trying to defend Armando for two seasons, I just gave up the effort by August of last year. Too much evidence stacked up against him, and I jettisoned my optimism and allegiance. I couldn't take it no mo'.

I send my respects to youse guys who still can.

But I will make this concession: As much as a fit Bonds, the Giants desperately need a strong Benitez performance to stay in the race. And because I love local laundry to the last stitch, I cannot actively root against the galoot. He's wearing my favorite colors, fer crissakes, even if sometimes it looks more like two uniforms than one.

I'll cheer for Benitez in a roundabout fashion, because much more than Armando is at stake. At the top of my Giants Wish Heap, I desire that the Giants stay in contention so Barry's comeback season -- in which he passes Aaron with ease -- will have the utmost dramatic meaning.

But...Benitez. I sense that on April 3 the stone reality sets in for Benitez because of the tough, professional, break-your-heart major league hitters who are stacked against a closer in the ninth inning of games THAT COUNT.

Man, that inning -- that final, desperate ninth -- is a tough assignment to pitch through. And it is one facet of regular season baseball that just does not have a true parallel in the sleepy Cactus games. I can't trust the results from Scottsdale, boys.

So I am taking a deep breath, lighting the taper, and intoning:

Go, Blow!

Tyler Walker takes a lot of heat (okay, mostly from me) on these pages, even though he hasn't pitched here in almost a year.

Walker is just a tad overweight, sports a caboose that can be easily identified as far away as the Mars Exploration Rover, and enters games in a streaming flop sweat, apparently caused by the jog-in from the bullpen.

But even as he rehabs this spring from Tommy John Surgery, he has endeared himself to fans and teammates by ignoring the importance and position of his twin 800-lb. gorilla, Armando Benitez.

Here are some of Walker's thoughts about closing for the Giants again (from the Henry Schulman article in the Chronicle):

"I'll stay up at night sometimes thinking about it, just the feeling of the adrenaline rush before you go out there,'' Walker said.

"I think I've proven I can close at this level. I would love to be given the opportunity to do it. It's definitely something that gets me going all the time. I think that's the most coveted role in the bullpen, and I'd like to have it again."

NOTE the lack of concern for the so-called "incumbent" closer, Armando Benitez. Here is Walker, a wounded man, barely able to lob a beachball to his kids, and he's got his sights trained on the closer spot by July. He may never even pitch at the major league level again, but whupping Benitez is not even important enough for Walker to consider in the comeback equation.

That's called Closer Mentality, if you didn't know.

And Walker says these things because Armando, Lame And Quacking Duck, is a told story.

Benitez is over.

I'm feeling positively giddy after Sabean's little magic show last night. Although the Bullpen may yet be the Giants' undoing, this team now compares favorably with that of 2002.

Remember that 2002 team before we nailed an eternal halo on it?

During the first week of August, we were calling it old and washed up. Plus, it never won the division. It went as a Wild Card and kept on defying the odds.

But a quick comparison is in order.

1. Despite Bonds' decline, the 2006 offense (if, gulp, injury-free) should ultimately be more balanced 1-8 than 2002's.
2. Do you hate Jose Vizcaino? Two of the backups in 2002 were an untried hack named Pedro Feliz and a long washed-up Shawon Dunston, fer crissakes.
3. I'd call the starting pitching of the two teams about a push.
4. The relief corps, because of Nen and Worrell, was better in 2002. But Nen was hiding a tragic bum arm the last month of the season.

Qualitatively, these two teams are similar. That doesn't mean the Giants go the World Series. Hell no. Plenty of teams better than the 2006 Giants never even made a wild card appearance.

But at least we ain't whistling past the graveyard anymore. Maybe the Old Folks Home, but not the graveyard.

Arizona is trying to take the high, righteous road in making very public their decision to withhold Jason Grimsley's remaining pay, while calling Grimsley every name in the book. (Mostly, because he has been ineffective this year.)

Grimsley intends to file a grievance with the union, which in its turn will mow down the Dbacks on this one. Grimsley has been released, but isn't charged with any crime.

The DBack ownership probably expects to lose, but they chose this moment for some Holier-Than-Thou posturing.

"In my mind, he (Grimsley) probably owes us as opposed to us owing him," AZ Managing General Partner Ken Kendrick said.

"What he is really asking us to do, if he files a grievance, he's asking us to pay him for not performing, when the reason that he isn't performing is because he was a cheater ..."

(Uh...Kenny...You don't want to see Grimsley's stuff without the juice.)

Moreover, Ken, My Man, many steroid users perform just fine, as you will probably find out when other members of your team are exposed.

What will you do then, Kenny? Ask the crummy-result cheaters to give their salaries back, while the good-for-you cheaters get a pat on the butt?

Here's a For-Instance: What if LuGo ends up on Grimsley's rat-out list?

It's warm and getting warmer for Barry. But beyond Bonds, the future of the MLB and federal investigations will bring:

1. A Bevy of the Obviously Guilty,
2. A Flock of the Probably Guilty, and a
3. Thundering Herd of the Possibly Guilty.

Because fuzzy gray lines will separate the future multitudes to be implicated, it would be a Fool's Mission to attempt some sort of punishment or prosecution.

The unfortunate current exception is Barry, who is dodging a possible perjury charge relating to steroids.

For the rest of baseball, a strict steroid ban going forward is the only remedy to this decades-long mess.

But the investigations underway will help steer the focus away from "Just Bonds" and bring us refreshing headlines and high entertainment relating to the other sinners in this drama.

When he connects, his home runs are struck with majesty.

When he strikes out or grounds out meekly, it is a shocking letdown.

And then there is that learning curve -- or is a flatline?

It is an uncomfortable truth that Pedro Feliz led the team last year, not only in RBI's and HRs, but also in HRs with men on base.

On the clutch scale, he rates higher than we all think. Last night and today were examples hard to ignore.

We all know there is something there with him. He led the team in all those important categories last year. He could have -- maybe should have -- sat out the last two dreary months of the season, and still would have had good "production" numbers.

So, it's mostly on us. His ghastly misfires stick in your mind. Other players anonymously fly out, or ground out -- but they almost politely go under our radar.

But a Feliz whiff at a two-feet-outside slider in a tight situation is very painful for a fan to watch. That failure doesn't elicit a few sighs. It's more like a chorus of groans.

And, rightly or wrongly, those failures remain frozen in our heads as Pedro's personal Tableau of Futility.

So Brad Hennessey shuts down the explosive Dodgers in a masterly performance. Spot start only?

On Wednesday or so, Benitez comes off the DL. And in another week or so, Lowry comes back, too.

That's two roster spots.

Who gets a bus trip to Fresno? Taschner? Correia? Hennessey? Aren't some of these guys out of options?

Is Sabean gearing up for a trade?

A lot of teams need pitching, and the Giants seem to have it.

Before the first game in San Diego, Felipe Alou offered a Bible-inspired challenge to anyone intending to chastise Barry Bonds.

"Those who feel clean, go ahead and throw the first rock," Alou said. "If you're clean, if you haven't done anything wrong or been accused of anything wrong, go ahead and start the show."

Interesting philosophy there, Felipe. How come you didn't employ it when you spent a week calling Larry Krueger the "Messenger of Satan," successfully lobbying to get him fired?

Oh! I get it! Bonds in the lineup helps pay your salary. Krueger doesn't sign your paychecks, and said your brain had turned to mush. Now I understand.

Hypocrite.

Karma plays itself out over many generations, and usually is not summed up in one career.

I say Hank Aaron had great Karma -- belting any number of ordinary fly balls which became home runs a mere one row deep -- out of the old Launching Pad in Atlanta, and finally overtaking an aging Willie Mays to become the leading home run hitter of all time.

Mays, though friendly with Aaron, still contends that the fierce wind blowing in from left field at Candlestick for ten seasons of his later career actually knocked down an average of 10 jacks a year. Those 100 homers would have left Willie with 761 lifetime home runs vs. Aaron's 755. And, if fortune had reversed their places, Aaron's troubling knee may have seized up in Candlestick's arctic conditions, preventing him from even approaching the record.

Mays playing in Atlanta would have equaled 800 career home runs. Take it to the bank.

Here's something rarely mentioned in connection with Mays' loss of ten per year: In 1965, he had 52 jacks. Add ten, and Roger Maris' record from a few years earlier would have become merely a footnote. The barbarians of 1998 -- McGwire and Sosa -- would have been knocking down the record of Mays, not Maris.

Bonds, being Mays' godson and anointed Avenger for Historical Correctness, is merely doing his karmic duty in knocking down the home run records. Everything fell right for Aaron to end up the all-time champ. If he gets passed by Bonds, it will be Mays who would finally gets in the last laugh.

When I saw a string here mention "Sir Fatty Fat," I'm sorry, but I immediately thought the regal reference was to Bonds, who carries much junk in the trunk heading into 2006. It's inevitable, I suppose, but still ironic -- the closer he gets to Ruth, the more he resembles him. Pretty soon Bonds will be doing that little fat-man birdwalk around the bases after his home runs, just like the Bambino.