Michael Tucker on Eric Gagne: "You are not going to intimidate me. Just throw a fastball over the plate and see how far it goes…Gagne has to throw the ball over the plate to get people out. If he can't, that's his problem. He'll have to throw one over the plate and take his chances." First of all, this is some of the best mouthing-off by a Giant since Kenny Lofton saw red against the Cardinals in the LCS. Especially since Gagne could crush Tucker's skull with his man-paws, or at the least, with a 100-mph speed ball. Second of all, Mike, you shouldn't be so much worried about the heater. Gagne will make you look like a drunken Charlie Hayes with his changeup, after he buzzes the fastball. And thirdly, how much cooler would it have been if Bonds had said this. Like one of those ‘70's Kung Fu flicks that ends up on Showtime after midnight. Bonds on an opposite mountain peak, yelling across the cloudless void to Gagne: "What's this? You want beef? Okay then. I will whip your monkey-ass myself." Then he jumps the mountain range with robes billowing and thrusts his maplewood bat through Gagne's chest, and as the fake blue blood spurts out, Bonds cackles, "Muhaha. I have avenged my brothers word and funk!" Now that's rivalry.
The Chronicle on the continuing story of Bungalow BALCO: "San Francisco Giants slugger Barry Bonds obtained the steroid Winstrol from BALCO founder Victor Conte, track star Tim Montgomery told a federal grand jury last year." Way to leave the tag to the end, Chron. That way it must be true. Just like this statement: "A rubber chicken roared to life and devoured the ears of San Francisco Giants reliever Felix Rodriguez, a drunken fratboy told his television set yesterday."
After the second loss to the Rockies this week, Felipe Alou said, " There should be a big mirror for all of us to look at ourselves…All of us! Beginning with me." Describing the earlier slide against the A's, he had commented, "Sometimes evil shows up." Do you think Felipe ever finds himself alone in the clubhouse bathroom late at night, staring into the mirror for answers, when all of a sudden a goateed and horned version of himself bursts from the stall, and they scream at each other like Gandalf and Saruman in The Fellowship of the Ring, pulling out knobby staffs and thrashing against the walls in a fight not meant for hobbits like Tyler Walker? Maybe Dave Righetti limps by and comments with awe, "Oh. They're wizard fighting." (Yes, I've been watching way too much cable television.)
To Edgardo Alfonzo: I am sorry for calling you a fat, slow, goat-man during that game against the Pirates in May. Through your magnificent turnaround, I've realized that if anyone resembles a hooved and nefarious mammal, surely it is I.
To Dustin Hermanson: Your goatee is, um, nice. And in no way makes your chin look like a pair of testes.
To Dustan Mohr: After that catch and wall-pummeling in the first series against the A's, you should definitely change your theme music to a Gangsta Rap sample from the early nineties, preferably Ice Cube (ex. "Damn I'm such a G it's pathetic…").
Random Pine-tarred Thoughts
Don't you get the feeling that Benny Agbayani is living happily on some island nook, selling tropical drinks with the names "Aaron Fultz hanging slider" and "Blood red heart of Giants fans I once devoured," spending the money on stupid blue Mets hats too small for his head?
I think I know the real reason Felix Rodriguez was ejected from Sunday's loss to the A's. After he drilled Eric Byrnes, plate umpire Joe Brinkman asked him, "What are you throwing at the kid for?" Felix must have replied nervously, "He winked at me." Brinkman surely turned to Byrnes and said, "Hey kid, don't wink." But then he realized it was 2004, not a movie version of time-traveling baseball ghosts, and he also had to throw out Alou, to cover up his confusion.
Do you think that after he drilled Mark Mulder this weekend, Tyler Walker knelt and presented the ball to Bonds, who had been hit by Mulder earlier in the game? I bet Walker said in a Godfather Italian accent, "Don Bonds, I have a brought a this to you as a token of my --" And Bonds accepts the ball and makes the sign of the cross over Walker's head, saying, "Shh Shh Shh. That's a nice boy."
Giants, you've turned me into a codependent husk of a man. And I love you for it. But we are all responsible for our own fandom. I cannot smite your enemies--the hated Dodgers and semi-hated Padres--no matter how many bobbleheads I sacrifice. You must decide the second half of this season. But if you hurt me, I won't crawl back to you, like all those other times. I promise. Really I do…Sigh…Who am I kidding. You know I can't stay mad at you.
Tim Denevi is a raving Giants fan who can't decide if he would rather have Mike Aldrete or Marvin Biz-nard pinch-hitting with the game on the line. E-mail him with your opinion on any issue at firstname.lastname@example.org
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