Tag Archives: pitcher

Matt Cain

Matt Cain pitched his last game on September 30, 2017, one day before his 33rd birthday, retiring after thirteen seasons with The San Francisco Giants. It’s very rare to see a player wear only one uniform for over ten years and he deserves to be recognized. He accomplished many great things in his career. He has three World Series rings, three All-Star recognitions, and the only perfect game in Giants history. He never got the fame or glory that Tim Lincecum or Madison Bumgarner got, but he was the backbone of the team for many seasons. He was called the Horse for a reason. He was reliable. You knew he was going to go seven innings and that he was going to keep you in the game.

I grew up a Giants fan. I remember the magical 2010 season in which we finally won the World Series as the San Francisco Giants. I went to a lot of games that season but the most memorable one was my first ever postseason game. I saw Matt Cain take on the Phillies in the pivotal Game 3 of the NLCS. He was masterful with only two hits in seven innings, giving us a 3-0 victory. I celebrated in the stands and snapped a photo that became my iPhone background for the next couple of years. I remember watching his perfect game two seasons later. I started watching it at Red Jack Saloon, my favorite dive bar. I made the trek home and got back just in time to see Gregor Blanco’s amazing catch. I knew that I was witnessing history in the making. They got that last out and Matt Cain cemented his legacy. Lots of people win multiple championships. Throwing a perfect game is damn near impossible.

Matt Cain will always be one of my favorite Giants. His poster is on my wall. He will stay on my wall. It’s not the greatest honor but it’s the least I can do.

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Tim Lincecum 

 I was born and raised as a San Francisco Giants fan in the suburbs of the city by the bay. I was a kid during the Barry Bonds era. I saw him hit home runs and steal bases and intimidate pitchers and lead us all the way to the World Series, only to suffer a devastating loss to the Angels and that damn Rally Monkey. I remember the hurt and pain of having a championship slip through our fingers. I knew that I would never take it for granted if we finally won one.

 Flash forward a few years to 2007, and I was moving into San Francisco after a brief stint in Los Angeles. I was back home where I belonged and the Giants were waiting for me. Things were a little bit different this time around. The Barry Bonds era was ending and an exciting new player was emerging. It wasn’t a slugger this time around. It was a pitcher… A scrawny white kid with a crazy delivery and lights out stuff. Tim Lincecum had arrived. 

 I watched as this kid (only a few months older than me) dominate. His fastball, his delivery, his casual attitude. He was a strikeout machine, he won games, he made hitters look foolish, and he smoked weed. He was cool as fuck. He won the Cy Young Award in his first full season. He won it again the very next year. He was The Freak, he was The Franchise, he was the future, and he proved it in 2010, when he lead us to the World Series. This time we won it. We did the impossible. And he was the biggest part of it. And I didn’t take it for granted. I celebrated. I cheered. I yelled. I even skipped work and went to the victory parade.

 Over the next few seasons, his velocity dropped, his command waned, and he was no longer immortal. He made mistakes and his ERA skyrocketed. But he still got the job done, any way that he could. He came out of the bullpen to help secure more World Series victories is 2012 and 2014. He didn’t always have his stuff, but he still managed to pitch a couple of no-hitters in 2013 and 2014. He never stopped fighting, he never stopped smiling, and we loved him for it.

 Injuries shortened his 2015 season and the Giants didn’t resign him. It turns out that baseball is a business after all. He started 2016 without a team to pitch for. He had a showcase in May that was enough to generate interest from a couple of MLB teams, and he ended up signing with the Angels and that damn Rally Monkey. He has yet to make his debut with them, and it’s going to be weird seeing him in a different uniform. He won’t be wearing the orange and black anymore, but he will always be a Giant. And unlike panda hats, his jersey will always be a welcome sight at AT&T. 

 Thank you, Tim. Thanks for representing the Giants in four All-Star games, for winning three World Series Championships, for the two Cy Young Awards, and your two no-hitters. You helped turn our team into a dynasty. It’s players like you that make me proud to be a Giants fan. Good luck with your new team, but I hope that you go into the Hall with SF on your cap.

 Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Knuckleball! (documentary)

Knuckleball! is a 2012 documentary about the notoriously tricky baseball pitch. The film focuses on Tim Wakefield and R.A. Dickey, the last two knuckleballers, during the 2011 baseball season. The two pitchers talk about how the knuckleball started as a gimmick, but how learning to throw it brought them out of obscurity and gave them longevity. They point out that it’s hard to hit because the movement is so unpredictable. But they are also quick to point out that the unpredictable movement is hard to control. Passed balls, beaned batters, and monster homeruns are just some of the unfortunate side effects.

The documentary was directed by Ricki Stern and Anne Sundberg and runs about 93 minutes long. That’s about 33 minutes longer than it needs to be. The film doesn’t need to drag on for that long. Just show the pitch, show what it means to the pitchers, and show how the knuckleball affects catchers, hitters, and managers. That’s all they needed to do. We don’t need that much backstory on R.A. Dickey’s journey to the Majors. That has very little to do with the baseball’s movement. The film is called Knuckleball!, not Dickey!

The film is available on Netflix and that’s where I watched it. You should watch it too if you like baseball and/or documentaries. It’s not as good as the ESPN 30 for 30 documentaries, but it will give you some insight to an underrated pitch. It’s not always reliable, yet you can build a career out of it with some determination.

Critically Rated at 12/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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American League vs. National League

Major League Baseball is composed of two leagues: the National League and the American League. If you follow baseball, you have to have an opinion on which league is better. But don’t bring it up with casual acquaintances. Your league preference is like bringing up politics or religion at a dinner party. You just don’t do it.

            Both leagues follow the same basic rules. But the American League has the designated hitter. Instead of a pitcher trying to get a hit, you have a player whose sole position on the team is to be a glorified pinch hitter. The pitcher has to hit in the National League. That’s real baseball… nine men vs. nine men.

The end result is that the American League has more hits and more runs. But nothing is as exciting as when a pitcher gets a hit. The National League is real baseball. The American League is Blernsball.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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