November 2010 Archives

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This is our third HoF go round here at Walkoff Walk and we've been alternately blase and fascinated by the whole thing. Hell, the first thing ever on the site was Rob's now legendary "Hall Of Sandwiches" post. Seriously, just type Hall Of Fame into that little search bar over there on the right and you'll find enough handwringing, analysis, and snoring noises to make your head spin.

This year I thought it would be interesting funnier to see what other people were saying about the ballot. Specifically, which dudes got articles devoted specifically to their Hall Of Fame candidacies. There are 33 names on what ol' Bob Neyer calls "one mighty crowded ballot" and the obvious names are getting plenty of play already.

Since Bert Blyleven and Roberto Alomar came so close last year they get most of the pub. Mike Baumann, columnist and Office Santa Claus for the 12th straight Christmas, calls their exclusion an injustice on the house organ. Alomar himself is "confident" that he'll get in. I hope not. I wanna keep reading about spit every year.

In 2010 the word steroids is as inextricable from the discussion as the word Cooperstown, so you'll read plenty about Raffy Palmeiro, Mark McGwire and Juan Gonzalez. Not that I'll be reading any of that, but you know... you can.

Dave Parker is making his last appearance on the regular ballot and that's always good for an article or two. He's not impossible to make a case for. Especially if you ask him.

"I won two batting titles, should have won two MVPs, was in three World Series, was the MVP of the All-Star Game, DH of the Year twice, and won the RBI crown," Parker said. "I did everything that you could possibly do in baseball and I'm not in the Hall?

"I should be in the Hall of Fame. Ain't no doubt about it."

That's the worst argument anyone's made for a vote since Rudy Giuliani ran for president. I'm pretty sure Parker just made up DH of the Year.

Jeff Bagwell is on the list and has a fair number of supporters. Consensus is that he won't make it on the first ballot, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that he does. He had (in this case) the good fortune of playing an entire career in Houston where no one gave enough of a shit to accuse him of taking steroids even though he looked like a VW bus doing a wheelie in the batters box. Look for him to get a strong "played clean" push from the delusional part of the voting bloc and get in. It'll be like the midterm elections all over again.

Tino Martinez got a dedicated article for his inclusion just because he's from Tampa. Dave Parker should say he's from Tampa. Carlos Baerga and Benito Santiago got an article about them in Spanish for being Puerto Rican. Dave Parker should say he's Puerto Rican.


We will miss the late Leslie Nielsen, the best comedic actor of his generation, a Canadian, and a man whose humour was drier than a Sham-Wow. Here's his famous clip from The Naked Gun where Mr. Nielsen's character Lieutenant Frank Drebin impersonates an umpire to protect the Queen from programmed assassin Reggie Jackson. Not sure why I'm explaining the plot to you, dear reader, who in order to read Walkoff Walk must, by law, have seen said movie at least 25 times. I saw it thrice in the theaters during its original release!

Anyway, I'll leave it to Larry at Wezen-Ball to figure out how many balls and strikes Drebin called correctly. That seems like the kind of gig for a fella who calculated Charlie Brown's career VORP.

We salute you, Mr. Nielsen. Shoulda been you, O.J. Simpson.


UPDATE: We'll donate $25 more to Feeding America if 25 people comment on this post by 3PM EST.

It's the day before Thanksgiving here in the United States which traditionally brings your pals here at Walkoff Walk to think once again about the needy in our country. We are thankful for all the wonderful gifts that we are lucky enough to have; we are thankful for friends and family; we are thankful for the clockless game that is baseball. But there are people starving all over North America. This is a social injustice that can and should be the easiest thing to solve.

After all, there is certainly enough food out there to feed the hungry. Folks just need some help, and that's where kind-hearted volunteers and charitable people come into play. So pony up, you middle-class citizen! GIve give give!

In the past two years that we've asked our readers and friends to donate some cash and/or actual goods to food banks, I've wondered how many of you actually listened to our begging and followed through. After all, we are small potatoes in terms of reach on the Internets. How could we WoWies make a difference?

Well, I suppose that even if just one of y'all did something because of our silly blog post, then it's worth the bits and the bytes and reproduction of the following listicle. Here, then, are links to food banks in all your MLB cities (and even Toronto!). Do your best, and thanks.

If your city or town isn't represented here, head on over to Feeding America. Thanks for reading; let's hope that by the time we all sit down for Thanksgiving dinner, there are millions of folks who can take their names off the list of the hungry.


Despite missing the entire month of September while at rehab to recover from his addiction to Four Loko because of an ouchie spot in his rib area, Texas Rangers outfielder Josh Hamilton has claimed the 2010 American League MVP award over runners-up Miguel Cabrera and Robbie Cano. Josh won with 22 of 28 first place votes and 358 total points.

Josh led the league in batting average (.359), slugging percentage (.633), OPS (1.044), and newsprint/kilobytes wasted on spirituality (too many to count). Defensively, Hammy played most of the year just around league average in left field but improved late with 29 games in center field. His Texas Rangers won the AL West with aplomb, enjoying at least a five-game division lead every day of the season after July 19th.

Plus he once abused drugs and boozed a lot but then stopped except for that one time in the bar with those gals, so really, he was the perfect candidate. HUMAN CONDITION.


Cincinnati Reds first baseman Joey Votto, king of the oppo, has beaten out perennial candidate Albert Pujols to win the 2010 NL MVP award, which I believe can be redeemable at Tim Hortons for six free months of Timbits. Votto snagged 31 of 32 first place votes to win this thing in a romp. Votto stole all the Reds votes, leaving teammate Scott Rolen in a distant 14th place in the voting.

Votto, 27, finished in the top three in all the Triple Crown categories with a .324 batting average (second), 37 home runs (third) and 113 runs batted in (third) and led the league in on-base percentage (.424), slugging (.600) and OPS (1.024).

True, his numbers weren't that much better than those of Mr. Pujols, but c'mon, the voters just wanted to spread the love around. Enough MVPs for Pujols, amirite?

Votto breaks a ten-year streak where the NL MVP was given exclusively to a player on the Cardinals, Giants, and Phillies. So unfair, spread the wealth! He's also the second Canuck to win the NL MVP award, joining British Columbia's own Larry Walker, who hoisted the award as he skated around his backyard rink in 1997. Justin Morneau would be is so proud.

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The 2010 Seattle Mariners can finally place a shiny, red bow on a season that had otherwise turned out to be a steaming pile of miasmic doo-doo. Super-scintillating-sensational starter Felix Hernandez has won his first ever Cy Young Award in a close vote, beating the runner-up David Price, by a whopping 56 points. King Felix garnered 21 of 28 first place votes, far more than I had expected. Price and CC Sabathia split the other seven amongst themselves. Hernandez was named on all ballots but some schmuck put Felix fourth on his ballot while some total schmuck had him fifth.

Felix outpaced the rest of the league in pitcher WAR in 2010 and finished first or second in almost every major pitching category. Except, you know, wins. Because the 2010 Seattle Mariners offense was, in a word, miasmic. Can't blame a fella for not getting run support especially when the presence of the designated hitter specifically prevents said man from striding to the plate.

Most importantly, the editors of Walkoff Walk can finally place a checkmark next to one of our preseason predictions! We missed out on the Dusty Baker award by one measly writer vote yesterday and got screwed out of the NL Rookie of the Year Award prediction because of Buster Posey's twinkish good looks but oh, what a successful prognostication by us on this one! Woo, us! Woo, Felix!


Or, as you lay people call it, "Manager of the Year". Folksy mustachioed Twins doofus Ron Gardenhire in the AL and Padres skipper Bud Black, who beat out our favorite Dusty Baker by one measly vote despite being listed on one fewer ballot than our man Dusty, in the NL. Dumb award. Means nothing. But had Dusty won, we'd be setting off rockets right now.


As expected, Philadelphia Phillies starter Roy Halladay, he of the 21-10 record, the 2.44 ERA, the 219 strikeouts and the, oh yes, postseason no-hitter and regular season perfect game has won the National League Cy Young award. Roy ended Tim Lincecum's two-year reign of terror as titleholder and he even won unanimously!

Really, good work, voters! The man had a K/BB ratio of 7.3, almost twice that of the runner-up, Josh Johnson. He had nine complete games and four shutouts and averaged 7.6 innings per start. And for your traditionalists out there, Roy led the league with 21 wins despite pitching for a team that struggled so badly offensively in the middle of the season that a popular Phillies blogger went on a hunger strike. WHAT MORE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT.

But no matter, the guy can now lay claim to multiple CYAs, which is so much better than just one. Amirite, Bartolo Colon? Roy Halladay won his first Cy Young Award as a member of the 2003 Toronto Blue Jays. Over the next six seasons, Roy hovered near the pinnacle of American League pitching success, finishing in the top five of the voting four times, including his runner-up showing in 2008 to Cliff Lee.

Congrats to Roy on the big win.


Did you think Jason Heyward should have won the National League Rookie of the Year award? Me too! No matter, Giants catcher sensation, former Florida State Seminole, and Tiger Beat heartthrob Buster Posey has edged out Mr. Heyward for the award, despite playing fewer games due to a Brian Sabean-inflicted late call-up, and despite clobbering far fewer baseballs to oblivion. Posey received 20 first place votes to Heyward's 9, and beat him 129 points to 107 points overall.

Posey is the first San Fran Giants player to win since legendary pitcher John Montefusco snagged the award in 1975, narrowly beating out future HOFer Gary Carter. So, life ain't so bad, Jason Heyward fans. Gary Carter!

In other, more boring American League news, Neftali Feliz won that thing. Good for him.

mic.gifRather than pull a charming/folksy idiom from famed Mariners broadcaster Dave Niehaus's body of work, we here at Walkoff Walk would like to offer our belated but sincere best wishes to the Niehaus family after Dave's untimely passing. Sincere is far from the default setting around here, but indulge me for a minute.

We've written and podcasted at length on the value of a wizened old man in the baseball booth and Dave Niehaus was one of the best. His voice took on an excellent gravely quality as he aged, delivering that fine gravitas as only an old dude can.

A simple buzz through Twitter will provide you with dozens of heartfelt and personal odes to Niehaus and his connection to a team right from their infancy. As general baseball fans, we can only admire guys like Niehaus for their connection to the game and the past.

It certainly feels like the regional quality of local broadcasters is slipping away, but our increased access to formerly foreign feeds spreads local voices to a wider audience. Sadly, as we lose magnetic local voices like Halas, Cheek, Harwell, and Niehaus, our perception is another slick bingo-caller jumps in to fill the seat until he gets the call from a bigger network.

In reality, I don't think this is true. It just takes time. Guys like Orsillo and Sims and Kuiper will occupy the same rarefied space in our memories, filling car rides and boozey bar rooms with memorable calls and shared experiences.

Right now, has an incredible variety of famous calls from the Niehaus canon for your listening pleasure; from the first-ever Mariners pitch to the legendary Edgar Martinez Double. A memorial is scheduled for Friday (today?) at Safeco Field for all fans to attend and pay their last respects to the baseball voice of a region.


You Mets, you Pirates, you represent the only two teams lacking a field manager as the free agent season has already commenced! What's the holdup, eh? Take your Clint Hurdle dreams and Terry Collins wishes and cast them to the wind, dear Wilpons and Nuttings, because Bobby Valentine is ready, willing, and able to lead your men towards a glorious 83-79 record!

Why should we care so much about Valentine's return to the MLB managing world? Well, if both teams neglect to throw millions of dollars away hiring Mr. Valentine, the rest of us will suffer the pain of potentially seeing Bobby V. take up the third mic in the ESPN Sunday Night Baseball booth. Quelle horreur! This could totally happen!

It would be far more enjoyable for us fans of other teams to have Mr. Valentine idly strolling through sunflower-seed-strewn dugouts, waiting for the chance to emit a silly soundbite during the middle of the fourth inning instead of gabbing for nine full frames from the catbird's seat next to Shulman and Hershiser. For the Mets or Pirates to take Bobby V. away from the four-letter network would be a boon to our eyes and ears. We beg you, teams without a manager. Call him up, ask for a Club Mex....he'll be all yours.


So, ESPN canned Joe Morgan and told Jon Miller that his aging face reminded them of the grim specter of death, pushing him forever to the radio. Most people are glad to see Joe Morgan go, because he was full of donkey dust, but there are some outliers! Meet Milton Kent:

With all due respect to Williamson, Miller and Morgan contributed greatly to the success of "Sunday Night Baseball" in the same way that Alan Alda and Wayne Rogers contributed greatly to the success of the sitcom "M*A*S*H." Sure, someone else could do the job, but certainly not better.

The pairing of Morgan and Miller was originally an odd one, as Miller's puckish sense of humor frequently went over the more strait-laced Morgan's head. However, over the years, the duo settled into a solid groove, and made the Sunday night telecast an entertaining one.

So to Milton, the magic in the Miller/Morgan marriage only came after a shoulder shrug and years of "getting used to" one another in the booth. That's the only reason Kent gives to back up his enjoyment of the announcing pair. "The duo (eventually) settled into a solid groove."

We, as baseball fans, deserve more. See, Joe Morgan was a very productive ballplayer and one of the all-time greats at his position. But for a person paid to opine about the game on television, he was horseshit. To sit in the pressbox and tell tall tales that can easily be disproved with historical records, and to make sweeping statements about strategy that can easily be disproved with advanced statistical methods specifically robs the viewer of a chance to enjoy baseball and learn about it. There was once an entire blog devoted to pointing out Morgan's malapropisms and falsehoods. Perhaps you've heard of it?

Some contrarian-minded people (hiya, Craiggers!) today are going to tell you that hey, Joe Morgan wasn't all that bad and even reminded us of our folksy great-uncles. But that's misguided hokum! Morgan presented a dangerous level of anti-intellectualism on the air that threatened to prevent nerds like me from watching Sunday Night Baseball.

And I hadn't watched it at all over the last five or so years, unless my favorite team was participating. Even then, I watched in protest. So I encourage ESPN not to go deep and hire some dweeb who can recite the formula for WAR and VORP, but at least hire someone who won't crap all over statistics and, if they were a former player, won't tell old stories that have little basis in fact.

So basically, anyone but Bobby Valentine.


They have alternative newsweeklies in Tampa? News to me! But it's true, and the folks at Creative Loafing Tampa sometimes even write about baseball. Writer Joe Bardi wrote a column comparing the Rays' desires to ditch the Tropicana Dome in St. Pete and find some nicer digs elsewhere, be it Tampa or one of the many baseball-hungry regions across the U-S-A, to the plight of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

You might recall that the wildly popular Dodgers packed up and headed west back in 1958 when owner Walter O'Malley couldn't get a new, swank ballpark built in Flatbush to replace that dump Ebbets Field. Bardi, obviously a devoted Rays fan living in close proximity to the Trop, likens the Rays ownership's vagabond shoes to those of O'Malley and likens the local fanbase to Dem Bums of yore:

Like Brooklyn fans, we loyal Rays devotees are spectators with the sword of Damocles hanging over our heads. (You don't have to know the story to know a sword hanging over your head is not a good thing.)

(Rays owner Stu Sternberg) has a game plan. It's a secret plan, much like the proposal for the downtown stadium, but he knows what he wants to do. Will he move to Tampa? To Charlotte? To Brooklyn to compete with the Yankees and Mets? He declined to speak with CL on the subject of stadium plans and attendance, so it's hard to say what that plan is.

But it seems Sternberg is treating us the exact same way O'Malley treated the Brooklyn fans. In the end we will find out what he intends to do only after he does it.

Forget the fact that, you know, the Dodgers were one of the most popular teams in the league in the 1950s and that Brooklyn, had it been its own city and not a mere borough, would have been a top 5 city in population in the country. Tampa/St Pete is no comparison, it's only the 19th largest metro area in the country and has a lower-than-average fanbase when measured by average attendance.

Interestingly enough, Brooklyn and the Tampa/St Pete metro area have similar population numbers today; Brooklyn could be a dark horse as a possible destination for the Rays. If only the last pro sports team move to Brooklyn hadn't gone so damn wrong, and if only baseball didn't have that silly anti-trust exemption, I'd rank the borough at the top of my list for MLB expansion.

But really, dear writer, get a hold of yourself. It'd be despicable for Sternberg to hold an entire city hostage for some stadium fundage but it happens all the damn time. I'd salute Tampa or St. Pete if they didn't cave to his demands and let him fly the coop to somewhere far nicer and more welcoming. You know, like New Jersey.

(via the good folks at BBTF Newsblog)

Send some congratulations to our own Drew Fairservice for his big move to Rob Neyer's SweetSpot Network over at ESPN. Drew will fill the role of Blue Jays blogger and occasional Rocco Baldelli worshiper for Mr. Neyer, whose blog is the only thing I still read on the four-letter website, because it is thoughtful and it is free. Just like Walkoff Walk.

Do Drew a solid and follow his ass on Twitter and add his site to your RSS feeder-readers.

Welcome to the offseason, a veritable wonderland of nonsense for professional baseball players. Some folks head to Arizona to play fall ball; some head down to the Caribbean to play winter ball. But the ones living the life of Riley back at home have nothing better to do than sit on their rumps and play around with their Twitter devices...that's a boon to our wildly popular feature, This Tweet in Baseball. Content, ho!

On with the offseason tweets:

In a stroke of pure irony, Reds rookie pitcher Matt Maloney, a person who is paid to throw a baseball and not to opine on current events, wonders if people care what a dopey guy on a reality show says.

Astros outfielder Hunter Pence, when not walking through a sliding glass door or playing nerd games, likes to buy new gadgets he can experiment with in his kitchen. Turns out he got the Ninja and if he was smart, he'd be getting a tidy promotional gift from the good people at Ninja Juicers. Actually, I recommend the Ninja Juicer, too. For all your juicing needs!

When not blowing saves for the Indians or spending half the season on the disabled list, Jensen Lewis likes to chain-smoke Pall Malls and take naps in tanning beds, just like his hero John Boehner.

Some baseball players spend their hard-earned money going to see other professional athletes play other professional sports. I'm not exactly sure, but I think Coco Crisp is inviting me to go to a Clippers game with him! Oh my oh my oh my! Sure, Coco! Let me just toss some jeans on and...wait a minute...there's not a catch to this offer, is there?

Going on vacation to sunny Orlando is a pretty sweet idea after the playoffs are over. Even guys on teams that didn't even sniff the postseason agree! Indians pitcher Chris Perez knows the score, EPCOT + booze = happy times.

Reds pitcher Sam LeCure wants to dabble in the A&R game during the winter break. He hears a hit single in his head and he'll be damned if Dylan doesn't do it for him. Brilliant idea, Sam, getting a legend to rewrite one of his biggest hits.

Yankees outfielder and erstwhile blogger Curtis Granderson wants to clean up his kitchen and, at the same time, do something charitable. Curtis, I know at least one Yankees fan who would pay money to get actual dishes that the great Curtis Granderson used, no matter how fancy or how used. Call me!

Nationals pitcher Collin Balester is getting back into the social media scene during the offseason, but he'll be darned if Mark Zuckerman's latest tweak to Facebook isn't giving him the business! Dammit, Zuckerman! Fix the fonts so Balester can plant some virtual lima beans on his virtual farm!

And finally, what would an update on baseball players' offseason activities be without an update on Ozzie Guillen's golf game?

Oh, that Ozzie Guillen! Always self-deprecating. And in two different languages, too.

SPECIAL BEAT WRITER TWEET EDITION: You think baseball players are boring on Twitter? Well, have you ever read an entire day's worth of Tweets from a beat writer on a travel day during the playoffs? It's like watching an episode of "The Amazing Race" except without the amazing parts, or the race.


These lovely young lasses ditched their philosophy midterms and bared their midriffs at the Giants victory parade yesterday in downtown San Francisco. They spelled out P-O-S-E-Y in support of their favorite young catcher, former Florida State Seminole Buster Posey, a candidate for the National League Rookie of the Year award. Everything is coming up Posey lately, which begs the question: why is this 23-year-old soon-to-be superstar with the Tiger Beat good looks and aw-shucks charm already married?

Buster, a native of a rural Georgia town that only recently got its first supermarket, married his high school sweetheart last year. What a great story for a happy young couple! Local boy makes good, comes home, gets hitched to the girl next door. And then just 18 months later, half the female population of the greatest city in the USA is going absolutely gaga over the kid.

Here's wishing good luck and many happy returns to Buster and his good ladywife. The temptations of the road (and, I guess, the home crowd, too...giggity) are many in number but the path of the honest man is righteous and true.


No, Republican nominee in the New York State's gubernatorial race Carl Paladino isn't going to celebrate his overwhelming defeat by playing a round of wiffle ball in the backyard. Nope, Paladino wielded the bat during the campaign as a means of intimidating his opponents; he brought it back last night as a reminder to new governor Andrew Cuomo, effectively saying "Since I couldn't beat you in this election, let's make it a best-of-seven, like the World Series". Either that or "I will beat you senseless with this aluminum bat."

That was just one of many baseball analogies and metaphors on our country's (sorry, Drew) tumultuous Election Day in which all the folks who blamed Republicans two years ago for the poor economy suddenly decided to blame the Demmycrats instead. Makes perfect sense to me! Here then is your wrap-up of folks invoking our national pastime for political gain and/or journalistic hackery:

  • Jonathan Krause, a Republican challenger in the 54th district of Wisconsin's state assembly who lost to the Democratic opponent, said "I kind of feel like the baseball player who goes 0 for five when his team wins 14-2." So basically, any Republican who lost yesterday is Pat Burrell.

  • María Antonieta Mejía opined that, just like in baseball, a ton of money can't always buy success in elections. She compared California's defeated gubernatorial candidate Meg Whitman to a spendy baseball team that still got blown out by a frugal team, like the Giants. Which is odd, because the Giants totally had a $100 million payroll in 2010. Whatever.

  • Newly-elected Pennsylvania congresscritter Lou Barletta lost his first ever election for city council fifteen years ago but in an interview with Hazleton Standard-Speaker's Kent Jackson, Barletta says, "Even Babe Ruth struck out." Barletta also struck out when he tried to enact an anti-immigration ordinance in Hazleton that made English the official language. The law was turned down by the U.S. District Court and could eventually get struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court, who love to use baseball metaphors about umpiring and whatnot.

  • And in Kentucky, former baseball commissioner Happy Chandler's grandson Ben, a Democrat, won his fifth term to Congress. Happy Chandler was commissioner when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier and he was probably not granted an extended term in that role because the owners had voted 15-1. Ben Chandler's opponent, however, hasn't conceded yet because the vote margin is too tight. They might need extra innings to decide this one, ho ho! Baseball metaphor!

And if you want to know who to blame for Republican Ben Quayle winning his race for Congress in Arizona, look no further than former Giants owner Peter Magowan, who donated $1,000 to the son of the former veep and forever dolt Dan Quayle. Just like in baseball, where generation after generation of Boones and Hairstons get a chance to hit .204, the world of politics loves nepotism.


Before the snark becomes too much to bear, I must offer my sincere congratulations to the San Francisco Giants for winning the World Series. Never have I seen a more likable bunch of ball-playing dudes completely defied the odds for so long.

As someone who took up the Giants cause in the not-so distant past, I grew instantly familiar with the "TORTURE" theme. Not so much because of one-run games and persistent nail-biterly qualities of the Giants wins, but the long line of head scratching moves executed by the Giants front office.

Mistakes compounded mistakes which gave way to revelations. It's the American way, really. The exemplary draft record and a keen ability to prevent runs & rack up improbable two-out rallies are the stuff of championship drives, and we just saw one of the greatest dashes to the finish of all time.

So go forth and riot, Giants fans. Enjoy this sweetest of victories. But don't say I didn't try to warn you. The Sabean plan isn't for the faint of heart or weak of constitution. Sometimes, you need everything to break your way. When it does, it makes every bottle to the eye worth it, and there's no real debate. Congrats to the Giants and their fans. And congratulations to Brian Sabean, the drunk who successfully rode the median home safe.

Image courtesy of Sports Illustrated.

We expected Giants fans to take to the streets and riot after the big World Series win last night. We never, however, expected them to get run over in the process. Warning, this video is graphic, depressing, and wholly unsafe for consumption at your place of business:

At about 11:49pm I started filming this "celebration" bon-fire (And other random acts of civil disobedience) in the middle of the intersection when (at the 2:05 mark) suddenly I heard screaming and the sound of people's bodies being hit by metal as the engine of a car roars.

I turned around just in time to see headlights and a fender speeding right towards me, I moved quickly then watched in horror as it drove straight through the crowd of people striking many of them and dragging some right through the fire itself! At least two were taken to the hospital that I'm aware of, I just barely missed being hit myself.

Then before the car even stops, the crowd goes completely ape shit on it and the driver, smashing them up until a wave of cops storm down Mission St. and shut down the entire intersection.

If he was smart, he would have used Foursquare to avoid areas where rioters were gathering. And, you know, not have run people over. This is shitty


Tim Lincecum gets the win, Brian Wilson gets the save and San Francisco finally gets its championship. On the heels of a shocking three-run tater tot by Edgar Renteria in the seventh inning, the Giants beat the Rangers 3-1 and WON THE FREAKING WORLD SERIES four games to one. They beat Cliff Lee! Twice! Bruce Bochy and Freddy Sanchez now have World Series rings!

We'll have a more interesting recap tomorrow, but for now, Walkoff Walk salutes the San Francisco Giants team and their awesome rockstar fans, especially Pat aka Phillas.

Hooray, baseball! And hooray, Tim Lincecum!

Per Liakos' request:

Via the 30fps blog comes this heart-crushing tableau of one seriously angst-filled Texas Rangers fan, as seen on FOX last night. Her team of choice was shut out for the second time in the series becoming the first World Series participant to put up a goose egg twice since the 1966 Los Angeles Dodgers.

And that was during the pitching-dominant '60s! This past season may have been dubbed "The Year of the Pitcher" but consider that 1966 World Series in comparison: only fifteen runs total were scored in that four-game sweep by the Orioles! The last two games were both tidy 1-0 Baltimore wins. Those four games were not an outlier in that era.

Back to the future, the Giants' young rookie Madison Bumgarner put up eight scoreless innings last night as he joined Game Two's starter Matt Cain in pitching a short shutout against these suddenly worsening Rangers. To wit, Texas has only put together a multiple-run inning three times in thirty-five offensive frames. As a team, they are slugging a miasmic .309 with a mere eight extra-base hits. Among their starters, only rookie Mitch Moreland is outperforming his regular season numbers, giving the myth of "playoff experience" a swift kick in the patoot.

So really, that poor girl is justified in her screams of hopelessness. The Giants now have three chances to take the title, the first of which comes tonight with two-time Cy Young winner Tim Lincecum on the mound against Cliff Lee, who the Giants shockingly chewed up and spat out in Game One. If they get to Lee again tonight, that young lady won't be the only fan emitting a primal scream.

(Follow bubbaprog on Twitter)