The Week That Was:
Won 1, lost 1 against the Rockies.
Won 3, lost 1 against the Dodgers.
69-81 for the season, 4th Place in the NL West.
The Week That Will Be:
Tue: at New York against the Mets.
Wed: at New York against the Mets.
Thu: at New York against the Mets.
Fri: at New York against the Yankees.
Sat: at New York against the Yankees.
Sun: at New York against the Yankees.
1962 was just like old times. All the old faces (and some new) were there—guys like Yogi and Whitey and Mickey and Roger for the Yanks; Felipe and Matty and Orlando and the two Willies for the Giants.
The Giants v. the Yankees in the 1962 World Series. That just tastes like Cracker Jack, looks like a fedora, and sounds like baseball.
They had met six times before, the first in 1921 when the Yankees were renting from the Giants. The Giants won that World Series, and the next one too, also against the Yankees. In 1923, the Yankees finally got the best of the Giants. And again in 1936 and 1937 and 1951.
The 1962 Series was the first time the old neighbors had met since the Giants left New York for the West Coast and San Francisco. The cross-town rivalry became cross-country.
It was one of those scenarios you played out in the backyard as a kid. Two outs, bottom of the ninth, game 7 of the World Series at Candlestick Park. The Giants are down 1-0. There is Matty Alou on third-base, Willie Mays on second, and you’re Willie McCovey and you’re coming up to bat. A single scores Alou and Mays and wins the game, no question. A homerun would be for the ages.
The pitch was a fastball, inside. McCovey’s swing murdered the ball, sending it screaming through the air, tearing a path into right field. But before McCovey could step out of the box, before Maris could come charging in from right, Bobby Richardson, the Yankees’ second baseman, closed his eyes, extended his arm, and McCovey’s line-drive found the glove.
Game over. The Yankees won and broke Charlie Brown’s heart.
These two powerhouse teams seemed destined to meet again in the World Series in short order, but never did. 40 years would pass before they played against each other in a real game—an interleague game, but still.
This week, the Giants are back in New York. They go to Queens to play the Mets and then over to the Bronx to take on the Yanks. The San Francisco Giants v. the New York Yankees. After all these years, that still sounds like baseball.
One day, your ex is going to get married. He or she is going have a fantastic wedding, make beautiful children, and live in marital bliss and happiness. And that’s great! No, really, you’re happy for them. Honest. Honest! But that doesn’t mean you want to be at the restaurant, eating alone at the bar, when the proposal happens. Fuck. That.
This past week, the Dodgers could have officially won the NL West and clinched their spot in the playoffs and rubbed our faces right up in it. The Giants, in LA, had they gotten spanked by the Dodgers, would have been forced to watch as the Dodgers celebrated. Thank the Lord Buddah Allahmighty that THAT did not happen! Instead, the Giants went to LA, took 3 of 4, including a 19-3 win AND a win over Kershaw. The Dodgers are going to clinch, but not while the Giants are at the restaurant.
Unless no. They wouldn’t right? Right?!