It would be hard to read too much into an almost-collapse like last night's. For starters, the Giants did actually win. More importantly, they would have lost on a series of dinks, dunks, and bloops. It's hard to remember more than one or two hard-hit balls. Except for Rod Barajas' homer - which is about a couple hours from landing and really screwing up somebody's schooner - there was a ton of bad luck involved.
Well, bad luck until Mark Teixeira's double. And that's exactly what it was; a double. White chalk flew up, the crowd groaned, and runners were coming around to tie the game. I was at the game, and proceeded to repeatedly bang my mitt against the empty seat next to me. I thought it was fair the whole way, and thought that until I saw Teixeira freaking out. If there were a 95-year-old lady in the seat, you might have seen me on the news.
So this post is a ponderous meditation on the nature of winning, wrapped in the moral ambiguity of an ill-gotten win. Not really, but don't forget how strangely thoughtful I am. I'm curious as to how people around here deal with the guilty victory. Last night wasn't the perfect example, but it was certainly a guilty victory. The normal glee from the partisans after a Giant win was definitely muted on the way out of the park.
I'm not sure if I've written about something like this before, but my faulty memory is a redundancy fetishist's delight. Here's the scenario: the Giants are in the World Series - stay with me, here - Game Seven, down by a run, with runners on second and third, and two outs in the bottom of the ninth. It's a full count with Jose Vizcaino pinch-hitting for Noah Lowry, and Vizcaino lines a ball to center. The centerfielder dives and traps it. I know it. You know it. The announcers know it. But the umpire gives the out call. Series over, and the bad guys win.
That would be different from the typical, "Hey if the refs didn't call that against the Seahawks, maybe this would have happened." It would be cut and dry; the ump makes a single correct call, and a different team wins the championship. Would we still print up the World Champion shirts, and cling to an alternate history? Would we take the pity scepter and crown from the Cubs, and go to the mall for matching pity accessories? It is a scenario that's far-fetched, but not too crazy. It would certainly be more likely than a Presidential election being so close that every vote in a state would need to be recounted several times.
Again, I can't be too broken up that the Rangers were cheated out of a game where the most popular method of attack was the slow dribbler, but I'd feel a lot more comfortable if the double were five inches to the right.
Stats of the day:
20.1 IP, 9 HR allowed
2005 - 192 IP, 37 BB
2006 - 102 IP, 33 BB
He's had a real nice stretch, so this isn't mean to nitpick, but what in the heck is up with that?
Comment starter: What would you do in the Vizcaino scenario above? Note: Rioting is a given. An absolute given.