One is the loneliest number

Especially when that 1 trails after a 9, as in Dodgers 9, Giants 1.

Wise skipper is wise

You know, everything was okay until the 8th inning when we imploded. I mean, it wasn’t a small implosion. It was like a star going nova. It was like we were playing baseball with blindfolds on. IT WAS LIKE OUR ENTIRE TEAM IS RUNNING IN A THOUSAND DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS AT THE SAME TIME.

Okay and to be fair to Edlefsen, it was a tough play to make since the line drive ripped the glove off his hand.

So to take our minds off that, I’m going to post a few pics from Friday night. That’ll be fun, right?

The bar, which is huge, at Lucky Strike

Killing time before the gates open

Texting gloves, which came in handy later because it was a little chilly

Nate Schierholtz

Aubrey Huff took a few cuts in the cage and we all let him know we were glad to see him

Corey Hart is ginormous

Picture one of eleventy billion of Buster Posey

Timmy and Buster

Seriously though. Buster Posey, y’all.

I wasn’t lying about Ben the Bachelor

There is nothing better than a Friday night at the yard

John Axford, my favorite Brewer and second-favorite closer

Willie Mays Plaza post-game is tres bien

Highlights

From last night:

  • Free drink at Lucky Strike
  • Texting gloves!
  • Aubrey Huff taking bp
  • THE BACHELOR~
  • More free booze
  • Tim Lincecum sliding into the catcher’s box in an effort to tag a runner
  • Buster Posey is a magical unicorn
  • So much Beastie Boys between innings
  • Tim Lincecum’s spit-covered, rubbed up baseball fouled back to the guy sitting next to me (mmm DNA)
  • Amazing rally
  • John Axford pitching*

I cannot think of anything more coherent than this for last night. Pictures are forthcoming.

*The Brewers are my number two team, so while I really wanted us to win, I was glad I got to see John Axford pitch. IT’S JOHN AXFORD, YOU GUYS

When baseball and reality collide

TRIGGER WARNING: mental illness, anxiety

 

The buzz among the Giants faithful today was the placement of Aubrey Huff on the 15-day DL. The reason? Anxiety. When I saw the first message about this, my heart sank for several reasons. First, because people are douchebags who will be really, really mean about this, and second, because I am intimate with anxiety.

People are Douchebags

It’s common knowledge for most people who use the internet with any frequency, but some people just aren’t aware that you should never read the comments. On anything. Ever. (Except on this blog!) Comment sections are where the lowest of the low go to wield their imaginary internet schlongs around so we all know that they exist. And that vague pronoun is vague on purpose. These are the people who will blatantly ignore an entire article or blog post just so they can submit a dissertation on the exact opposite point of the article/post. Or they submit a dissertation that proves the article’s/post’s point perfectly.

I was surprised when I started seeing mentions here and there about Giants fans and “are we going to be stereotypical or are we going to stop being dicks and start being Giants fans?” Sigh. Cool it with the jokes. This is a serious matter. Which brings me to point numero dos.

I Am Intimate With Anxiety

I will not divulge details but I have dealt with anxiety and panic disorders both personally and with loved ones for years. As I’ve grown to know anxiety and its aftermath, I’ve become more aware of its non-stop presence in my world. Friends of friends suffer from panic attacks, musicians I love experience crippling stage fright, baseball players I get frustrated with crumble under the weight of stress caused by high intensity jobs.

I wouldn’t wish a panic attack on anyone. I had a fairly horrendous one a few weeks ago, and I’m still trying to recover from it. Anxiety is no joke. When people I have a particular interest in – yes, even baseball players – get struck down by something so silent and insidious, my heart hurts. I am a fixer. A caretaker. If there’s a problem, yo I’ll solve it*. I’d love to give Aubrey a hug (I excel at enveloping), make him some tea, and just sit quietly nearby in case he needs more tea or a new movie in the DVD player or someone to talk to. Because I’ve been there and it’s terrifying and you ARE alone, because no one can be in your panic with you, but sometimes people can be BESIDE your panic and that can help an awful lot.

Whatever Aubrey Huff is dealing with is none of our business until he makes it our business. I hope he’s able to identify the trigger and work to resolve it. I hope he’s given the space he needs to figure it all out. Anxiety and panic disorders cannot be rushed or ignored. And I hope when we finally see Aubrey on the field again, we let him know that we’re pulling for him and wish him nothing but the best.

I mean, c’mon. How can you not wish this guy well?

 

 

Baseball feels

 

*Earworm!

The weirdest game ever

This’ll be short because I have to finish getting everything ready for dinner with BFF’s parents tonight, but I was sitting on the couch icing my knee and I was like, “Hey, I should tell you guys about the awesome game we played today!” You should know that when I say awesome, I really mean bizarre. I mean, for starters, this happened:

How do you baseball

No, you’re not missing anything. The Giants are though – a second baseman. I mean, there was one in the game but he had never played at second before in his career, so when this ball went into play, he dived toward first before retreating back to second. But it was too late at that point, and Aubrey Huff is not very fast to begin with, so this was our undoing.

On the plus side, we were able to score three runs in the top of the ninth to tie the game up, but in order to get there, we had done some weird substituting and Aubrey Huff became our second baseman and oh dear god why. Posey on first yesterday, Huff on second today. What’s next for tomorrow? Pagan in the squat?

*Gif courtesy of findtheswagger on Tumblr.