What could a manager possibly do after watching that game? Honest question. Throw things around in the clubhouse? Upend the post-game spread? Just stare at each and every player silently, spit a couple of times, and leave without saying a word? I can't even imagine. I don't remember a more embarrassing game. I think the problem is a lack of talent. They should check into that.
The Giants are abominable against left-handed pitching -- .246/.284/.377 against lefties in 228 at-bats entering Monday night. The lineup is filled with right-handed batters, regardless of whether they're right-handed hitters. But that's just on the offensive side, though.
We had an idea that they were going to struggle offensively. That was based on the small sample of 1,000 games since the start of the 2006 season. The Giants were never going to put a team of thumpers out there.
Check out this defense that the Giants are throwing out there against lefties, though:
Awful
Conor Gillaspie
Brett Pill
Bad
Ryan Theriot
Could be good someday, not good right now
Buster Posey
Hector Sanchez
Whatever
Angel Pagan
I guess so
Melky Cabrera
Joaquin Arias
That categorization is unfair to Melky's arm and possibly Arias. The former isn't enough to make up for the lumbering, and the latter is still something of an unknown quantity. But without Pablo Sandoval at third or Buster Posey behind the plate, the Giants have the capacity to put a truly discouraging defense out there.
And for what? Improved offense? Nope. Nothing about that permutation up there is good at anything relative to their peers. It's one of the worst defenses I've ever seen the Giants put out on the field at the same time, but the good news is they can't hit either. The proper comp is alcohol-free beer, which will cost you money, make you fat, and taste awful, but at least it won't get you drunk.
There isn't an answer, either. It's not like I have the magic alignment in a password-protected spreadsheet that I'm keeping to myself. The Giants have a roster filled with poor-to-average fielders, and a lot of them are fielding out of position. Sandoval being out makes a difference. Freddy Sanchez being out makes a difference. Swapping out Andres Torres for Angel Pagan makes a difference, as does swapping out Schierholtz for Pill.
Gentlemen …
takes off sunglasses
… it all adds up to mittfuckery. Complete and total mittfuckery.
It's easy to make too much of one ugly defensive outing -- or six or seven over the first 29 games of the year, for that matter -- but it's not like the Giants are putting Pat Burrell or Jason Giambi out there and getting an offensive bonus. No one's really good at anything. It's impressive.
I'll leave with an anecdote. When I was playing Little League for a new team and new coaches, we were playing different positions around the infield during the first practice, with the coaches studying us to see where we'd fit best. The shortstop was a known quantity to the coaches, and he stayed there as the rest of the kids moved around the diamond, taking ground balls.
I took my first grounder at third, and because I had a wild streak, I lollipopped the throw over the first. The shortstop was a short, chirpy bastard, and he started in on my noodle arm. It wasn't playful banter; it was genuine disgust. So during the next round, I took my ground and fired the ball as hard as I could to first. I threw pretty hard for a 12-year-old, and that particular throw was a perfect strike.
The chirpy little twerp shut up immediately. It was glorious. I won the third-base job.
I think the moral of the story is that someone needs to make fun of Conor Gillaspie and his noodle arm. Like, do it in a mean-spirited, nasty kind of way. That way, the next time he gets a grounder, he'll throw it really, really hard because he'll want to shut everyone up.
I think the other moral of the story is that during that season, I made about 25 errors at third base because I sucked at defense and so do the Giants.