So Easy, Even a Giants Fan Can Do It.

Geico Cavemen aren't the only ones getting it stuck to them. Here's how to get past the oppression and enjoy the season to come.

So this is what I get from the boss regarding my last column:  "The other thing is we just wanted to ask that we keep the off-color jokes to a minimum.  We didn't change anything this time, but this season we really are pushing for a larger audience (and [we] will see picking up more of our stuff; so yea [sic], prostitute jokes [as seen in "Your San Francisco Giants:  Excitement or Excrement?"] may not help.)"

Now I have to worry about propriety and decency when it comes to FOX, the network who brought you "Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire?", "When Animals Attack", "The Simple Life" and the Iraq war.

It occurred to me as I got admonished that I am a lowly Giants fan:  Primitive, simple and expected to accomplish only base achievements.  I'll grunt, huck a bone in the air when pleased with a win by the Giants in May, and then drag my knuckles in shame as my team finishes (again) without a World Series championship.  Me and my kind are the Geico Cavemen of the baseball world.

By gleaning the hostile quotes from the cavemen, we can get an idea of the Paleolithic existence of a San Francisco Giants fan:

"Okay, first of all, I'm not 100 percent in love with your tone right now."


And why should I be?  I have to worry about editors ragging on me for decency standards and then I'm coping with the defensive tenor of Brian Sabean.  So says Sabean regarding his tired blueprint of building around Barry Bonds and relying on veterans yet again:  ``It's the way it turned out.  If there's rancor, so be it, but it's going to get decided on the field.''

"So be it!?"  I'd be 100 percent in love with Sabean's tone if he simply took the podium and said, "We signed Bonds to sell tickets.  The managing partners want to continue to rake in cash hand over fist and Bonds makes the casual fan/Google-dorks buy club level seats."


 "Tina's here we're getting back together.

Hey, give us a minute!"

Rich Aurilia and Russ Ortiz are back in the fold, but let's not start skipping and blowing kisses to each other just yet.  These guys aren't the same players who Giants fans adored a half-decade ago.  Just put them on the field and see what they can do, but don't expect cartwheels from the fan base until they put up solid production and contributions.  We've got other crap to worry about -- like not ever winning a World Series for one. 


 "My mother's calling.  I'll put it on speaker."

Like our caveman who handles his cell phone in his therapist office, Giants fans are capable of multi-tasking and handling complex concepts, such as invigorated baseball smack.  We are not all left-leaning, tree-saving non-competitors who would rather watch a game well-played than care about the outcome.  You can throw us right into the cesspool of other fans who think they're God's gift to baseball, like the Yankee louts or the Philly morons or the Cubby losers.  Not only can we talk the talk, we can make sense. Giants fans boo Armando Benitez because he deserves it.  Yankee fans boo A-Rod because they're idiots.  We don't have the No. 1 market in the country, nor do we have ESPN in our backyard, but Giants fans can dish it out responsibly when the chips are down without the whine factor.


"I'll have the roast duck with the mango salsa.

I don't have much of an appetite, thank you."

I admit it.  I am excited about this year's team but as my friends remind me on a daily basis, we all know how this is going to end.  The Cactus League makes me throw all rationale out the door and the team I see now is one that makes me kind of tilt my head, nod, and say, "Yeah, they might have enough to get to the playoffs!"  I want to slovenly devour the sumptuous dish known as 2007 Giants baseball, yet history demonstrates that I should turn away from this steaming pile that the Giants front office always reheats and throws in front of me.  I'm such a sucker and the poster child for placated fans.  I take back what I said about New York, Philly and Cubby fans.  Sort of.


"Seriously, 4 ft. by 5 ft.… Well apparently not because I'm looking right at it."

Yes, I know you got Barry Zito to be the face of the franchise and I liked the signing of the speedy Dave Roberts, but this team in desperate need of an overhaul still isn't overhauled.  The big sign still reads "New Faces, Same Product" and there isn't a lot you can do to convince me otherwise.  Don't tell me the sign's been taken down.  The AARP-eligible lineup, the absence of a closer since Robb Nen, and the over-reliance on Bonds is staring at me plain as day.  The formula hasn't worked since J.T. Snow got blocked, flogged, and tagged by Ivan Rodriguez in the 2003 NLDS.  Granted, Sabean landed Barry Zito, but it is still Bonds' team and the business plan for the construction and maintenance of the roster is stale. 

Stop the subjugation of the Giants fan, whether that's in print, a roundtable baseball discussion, or even if you're the very person responsible for fielding the team we love.  We look funny, but there's nothing funny about our plight. 

And, no, I didn't wake up on the wrong side of the rock.

Keith Larson writes for because he's lived and died with the Giants since 1972. He welcomes all words of praise and insult at, but mentioning anything having to do with Game 6 is to be done with extreme caution.

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