It's Got to Be the Morning After

In sports, the highest compliment you could give to a player is to say that they are a true member of that team. Not in a factual way or a historical way, but in a way that denotes that whatever feelings fans have for that team, that franchise, and the particular situation of that team, the player symbolized it. There are hundreds of people who have played for the Giants over the past twenty years, but there are only a few of them who Giants fans consider "a Giant." Rod Beck was one of them. It wasn't just the Fu Manchu and mullet (although who couldn't love that combo?), or all the saves, or that loose arm windup he had, but because he spilled his big, huge heart all over the place whenever he pitched. When he had nothing left, when his fastball failed him, when the fans were on him, he'd go out there whenever asked and somehow do what was asked of him.

Beck earned the fans love for two things in particular. In '93, in the midst of that dogfight of a pennant race, he went out day after day after day to save games despite the fact he had nothing left in his arm. Then, in '97, he infamously escaped out of that bases loaded and no out jam in the Brian Johnson Game through sheer guts and guile. As he walked off he pumped his fist and screamed out in exultation, mirroring the emotions of everyone who either watched or listened.

For all that, Giants fans loved Shooter. And for all that, Giants' fans mourn his death. Rod Beck was a true Giant through and through.