SF Examiner: Uribe's departure just part of game

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner


There’s no crying in baseball. No permanence either. Wonder if those Dodger fans will get the hang of saying “Ooo-reebay”? Wonder if there’s any sort of chant that can be created out of “Tay-ha-dah”?

We blinked, and it’s all changed.

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2010 SF Newspaper Company

SF Examiner: All the stars are aligning for Giants

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner


It doesn’t get any better than this. Any more one-sided. Any louder. Any more entertaining. Any more unbelievable.

“When the lights go down in The City ...” That’s Journey’s song, which was sweeping through AT&T Park on Thursday night. That’s San Francisco’s song. And quite possibly, the way this World Series is blasting along, this is San Francisco’s time.

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2010 SF Newspaper Company

RealClearSports: Giants Glad to Shout 'Oooh-Ree-Bay'

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com


SAN FRANCISCO -- No scoreboard advisory is required. No message saying "Louder'' or "Make Noise.'' The chant is from the heart and in a way self-perpetuating. Also, to San Francisco Giants fans, historic.

Juan Uribe steps to the plate, and the cheer rolls through AT&T Park. "Oooh,'' they yell, and then after a pause, "Ree-Bay.'' Again and again. "Oooh-Ree-Bay. Oooh-Ree-Bay.''

Read the full story here.

© RealClearSports 2010

SF Examiner: A surprising offensive outburst on a magical night

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner


SAN FRANCISCO — Those were the Giants? That was Cliff Lee? One thing’s for certain, that was a fifth inning, as wild and exhilarating as imaginable.

This wasn’t a game, it was a statement. It was a revelation. It was enough to make you think San Francisco’s time finally is about to arrive.



Copyright 2010 SF Newspaper Company

SF Examiner: How sweet the torture is

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner


SAN FRANCISCO — Sweet torture, indeed. Sweet success. Sweet joy.

They had allowed the lead to slip. And all you could think of was how close the Giants came. How they they were six outs away. How the dream had vanished.

And then against Roy Oswalt in the bottom of the ninth, the dream came true.

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2010 SF Newspaper Company

Giants were 90 feet away

By Art Spander

SAN FRANCISCO -- Ninety feet. Red Smith called the 90 feet between bases the closest man has come to perfection. But Wednesday night the Giants were not quite perfect. They were gutsy. They were exciting. But they couldn’t get the tying run home from 90 feet.


They lost to the Colorado Rockies, 4-3. They lost a game in the wild card standings to the Rockies. They could have been 1½ games behind, but now they are back 3 games. Now the playoffs are even more remote. Not impossible, but remote.


There was Eugenio Velez on third. Two outs, bottom of the ninth. A game that meant everything. The crowd chanting like a college football crowd. “Let’s go Giants.’’ Clap, clap. “Let’s go Giants.’’ AT&T rocking. For eight innings the Giants had done little -- done nothing, if you want to refer to runs.


For eight innings they had been shut out by the Rockies' Jorge De La Rosa, who owns the Giants. He had pitched six times previously against San Francisco, and the Rockies had won all six, five of those victories going to De La Rosa. And now it was the bottom of the ninth, and the Giants trailed by four runs.


But De La Rosa had been taken out for pinch hitter in the top of the inning, and Franklin Morales was pitching now for Colorado. And Freddy Sanchez singled. And Pablo Sandoval singled. And Bengie Molina singled. Then Juan Uribe came up. The 38,696 fans were standing, and one side of the park would shout “Oooh,’’ and the other “Ree-bay.’’ Again and again.


Uribe grounded to short, but Troy Tulowitzki threw the ball to right. And now it was 4-2 and Velez was put in to run for Uribe. He stole second. A runner on third, a runner on second and still nobody out.


Edgar Renteria is a clutch hitter. “He’s the guy we wanted up there,’’ said Matt Cain, who would be the losing pitcher. “But sometimes it doesn’t work out.’’ Renteria popped to second. The runners held. But when pinch hitter Randy Winn grounded to first, Eli Whiteside, running for Molina, came home and Velez moved to third. Now it was 4-3 and Nate Schierholtz was coming to bat.


“You always want to be up there in the bottom of the ninth with the winning or tying run on base,’’ said Schierholtz. Which he was. But on a 3-2 pitch from Rafael Betancourt, Schierholtz struck out. The collective groan carried out to the bay.


“I swung at a bad pitch,’’ confided Schierholtz. “I couldn’t get it done.’’


Maybe it shouldn’t have come to that. Maybe the Giants should have been in front or no less than tied by the eighth. Andres Torres opened the fourth with a double, but after Sanchez struck out, Torres was caught in a bizarre double play. Sandoval grounded to Tulowitzki. Torres was trapped off second. Not on a line drive, on a grounder. Tulowitzki tagged him then threw out Sandoval at first.


“I had a big lead,’’ said Torres. “I tried to come back. I took too much.’’


The Giants took nothing in the sixth. Schierholtz walked, and reliable Rich Aurilia dropped a pinch-hit single into center. Two on, no one out, the top of the lineup, Torres, Sanchez and Sandoval coming to bat. De La Rosa struck out each, swinging.


“We had a real opportunity,’’ said Bruce Bochy, the Giants manager. “We just missed.’’


So the Giants head to Los Angeles. As players dressed, bats nosily were being shoved into canvas bags. Suitcases and travel bags lined the entrance to the clubhouse. San Francisco hits the road, to where no one can be certain.


“We’re in a situation where we need to win ball games,’’ said Bochy. “This was a tough one.’’


A tough one but also an uplifting one. Four runs behind and then one run behind, with a man on third base, 90 feet away. “We couldn’t get a timely hit or earlier a productive out. But we fought back.’’


The crowd loved it. For eight innings, the situation seemed hopeless. Suddenly the Giants were alive and the fans were alive. When Tulowitzki tossed away that possible double play, the belief was nearly palpable. Somehow, the Giants would do it. Somehow, the baseball gods would smile on them.


They did not. The Giants got close, got 90 feet from the tie. But it might as well have been 900.