The new generation doesn't know about Jason Marquis. They've never sat through a 92-pitch Jeff Suppan start. There's no analog for the modern-day start from a dooky-throwing flip-flam artist, the kind of pitcher that makes you bite a couch cushion out of frustration.
Tom Koehler, we see you. That was the first 40 minutes of a three-hour Batman movie. You're angling to be a supervillain. Professor Von Dook. The rest of the movie is going to revolve around you getting tangled in your own web of dook. We'll all cheer. Tom Koehler, we see you.
The Giants were shut out for the third time this season, slathered in dook. Technically, that's not quite right, as Koehler throws harder than ... well, just about anyone on the Giants. But he's still a pitcher who relies on his change and breaking stuff. He's still a command pitcher. And the Giants couldn't do anything against him. It happens. Before every season, make a bingo card. There will be a loss because of a blown call. There will be a loss after the closer gives up a string of nonsense hits. And there will be a loss against a pitcher that makes you say, "Really?", right out loud, even if you're at a bar or with your in-laws.
Really? Why is Tom Koehler? What in the ...
Maybe Koehler's the new Roy Halladay, I don't know. Sure seems like he's the ... Kip Wells, Josh Geer, Matt Chico, Andy Sonnanstine, Jo-Jo Reyes ... the Brett Tomko of his day.
Yeah, I called him a Tomko. And it doesn't make you feel better about Saturday night.
Angel Pagan jammed his shoulder on an unsuccessful dive for a ball that ultimately didn't mean anything. This happened because of the Marlins death fog, teal and foreboding, awful and fabulous. He stayed in the game, grimacing and adjusting the shoulder as best he could. You know how this is going to end.
- No disabled list
- Missed games because, good gravy, that hurts
- No disabled list
- More missed games
- Okay, fine disabled list
We said that about Pagan's knee, though, and he's been a workhorse ever since, so maybe this is too cynical. But that knee wasn't rusted with Marlins death fog. Beware. Pagan isn't just hurt, he's probably pregnant with Rosemary Loria's demon spawn. Beware the fog.
Tim Lincecum has had quality starts over the last two seasons that didn't feel like quality starts. They felt like "participant" ribbons and meant just as much.
This was a quality start that meant something. Good job, effort, here's a quality start. There were mistakes, there were cleverly spotted pitches, and it would have worked out if it weren't for that meddling Tom Koehler.
Dunno, maybe we're watching the growing pains of a born-again Livan Hernandez, and Lincecum is going to have a second life as a dooky-throwing flim-flam artist. His last two starts were encouraging, indeed. Not exciting, mind you. Mostly encouraging, though.
Let's talk about the Brandon Hicks replay in the second inning.
This wasn't the run that was the difference in the game, so we can all be adults, here. Check your bias, check your preconceived notions, and make the call yourself.
The ruling, after replay, was that not one atom from Brandon Hicks's cleat made contact with the base. Nothing. There was nary an electron shared. Based on that angle you see up there, with the accompanying screenshots around it, there was no way that HIcks could have scraped the base.
Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. I've watched it six times, and I still can't tell.
It wasn't the difference on May 17, 2014, but it was an awful call in a system that's supposed to prevent awful calls.
Stop that, umpires.