Blogs

Pitcher’s high-profile train wreck a microcosm of bigger (and badder) things

By Joe Eskenazi

A few years back on a crisp and cold winter’s day, former Major League journeyman “Subway” Sam Nahem told me a story. After a particularly odious outing in 1940, the young Brooklyn Dodgers pitcher was queried by a New York Daily News reporter just what good, exactly, he was doing the team.

Nahem’s response was instantaneous: “I am now in the egregiously anonymous position of pitching batting practice to the batting practice pitchers.”

These days, many a Bay Area reporter (and fan) has to be wondering the same thing about the San Francisco Giants lefty who can do no right, Barry Zito. After yesterday’s latest fiasco – Nine outs recorded, eight runs allowed – his record fell to 0-6 with a historically awful 7.53 Earned-Run Average. And yet Nahem-style repartee won’t inspire too many chuckles. Subway Sam was earning $150 a week (and damn happy to be doing so) and had a law degree in his back pocket in case this whole baseball thing didn’t work out. Zito, meanwhile, is in year two of a seven-year, $126 million contract.

Once one of baseball’s most dominant starters, Zito has transformed into the Old Faithful of awfulness. His consistency is almost admirable; the chances of him getting shellacked are virtually as high as spotting a lower back tattoo in a porno movie.

Your humble narrator was in the upper deck yesterday on an otherworldly beautiful Sunday, watching Zito absorb his ritual beating. It was bat day for kids under age 14, and by the time the sixth Cincinnati Red crossed the plate with only one gone in the first inning, I began to fear that a shower of Louisville Sluggers would come cascading out of the stands. Thankfully, this did not come to pass (but two more Reds runs did).

As a longtime baseball fan, I can tell you that not many ballpark experiences are more frustrating than being caught in the same section as the two twerps who won’t stop talking business (a development made infinitely worse by the ubiquity of cell phones). I’m not the sort of person who believes in baseball as some sort of mystical fantasy land; I was more than a bit suspicious when players began hulking up and enjoying career renaissances in their 40s. But the ballpark is a refuge from everyday life. I don’t want to think about the pressures of my job and I certainly don’t want to think about yours.

But Zito’s epic failures conjure up more than angst about deadlines, office politics and HR losing your W-2 forms (yes, again). Watching a handsome, wealthy and powerful young man of once-unlimited promise fail on an inexplicably grand scale reminds me just a bit too much of the sorry state of the nation. And dwelling upon that can certainly suck the good times out of an afternoon spent -- to paraphrase the words of The Daily Show’s John Hodgman -- watching a man hit a ball over a fence with a stick.

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Torrey Kretschman, in happier days.

By Joe Eskenazi

You’ve probably never heard of Torrey Kretschman -- and if you have, it likely isn’t for a good reason. Back in December, Kretschman made national headlines when he fell to his death at Candlestick Park during halftime of a 49ers game.

The notion that Kretschman’s 31 years on earth would, in the public eye, be summed up entirely by a freak accident involving a four-foot high railing he judged to be five-feet tall weighed heavily on the Sacramento man’s loved ones. Here at The Snitch we delved a bit deeper, running a piece titled “A Man in Full: Despite Media Myopia and Internet Ghouls, Torrey Kretschman’s Life was About More Than His Death.” You can read it here.

And you know what? It turns out that Torrey Kretschman’s life continues to be about more than his death. His memory has inspired a band of friends and family to join together and run one last race for Kretschman (an accomplished marathon runner) while raising money and awareness for those he wished he could have helped – but couldn't.

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Every week this baseball season, Blue in the Bay breaks down the heated rivalry with assessments of both teams. Think of it as a power rankings of sorts, only between two teams, and from an obtusely biased perspective of a Dodgers fan living in San Francisco. Don't worry, I'll give the Giants credit where it's due, which shouldn't be much from a team destined for last place in the NL West. -- Oscar Pascual

There's nothing quite as mysterious as opening day at Dodgers Stadium. An air of excitement and optimism buzzed throughout the historic ballpark's capacity crowd of 56 thousand. Jeff Kent started the season on a strong note, cracking a two-run homer in the first against Barry Zito. The reviled Giants went scoreless against solid pitching and defense. And an ocean of lovely blue covered Chavez Ravine on a sunny spring afternoon, ruined only slightly by a minute smattering of a horrid shade of orange -- the shade that resembles an infant's loose stool.

This beautiful day could not even be sullied by getting stuck in traffic on the I-5, hearing the crowd roar to Kent's homer from the parking lot, getting into the ballpark in the third inning, and waiting in line for a Dodger Dog until the fifth. Only the Giants could have ruined the day, and they were about as impressive as Stephen Hawkings' singing voice.

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Every week this baseball season, the SF Weekly news blog 'The Snitch' features 'Blue in the Bay,' a series featuring thoughts on the Giants/Dodgers rivalry, from the perspective of SF Weekly contributor and Dodgers fan, Oscar Pascual. For your hating pleasure, let's begin with the season preview. -- Oscar Pascual

I hope that image got your attention, because I've got something to say to all Giants fans. You know that little Dodgers/Giants rivalry that's been burning up your hateful soul all your life? Well, it doesn't exist. That's right, I said that petty grudge you've devoted your entire existence towards isn't worth all your Halloween Orange apparel combined.

I know what you're thinking -- "Stupid Dodgers fan, what sort of nonsense is this?" I used to hate the Giants, but then I heard baseball guru Peter Gammons say that your San Francisco Giants are only concerned with beating the Dodgers, whereas the Dodgers are only concerned with winning championships. And that's what the Blue Crew intend to accomplish this year.

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This Sunday is Easter, sure. But it's also the annual Bring Your Own Big Wheel Race (BYOBW), and you know all the coolest godless heathens around will be there. So if you can peel yourself off the chair after brunch, and if you can stand up straight after all those mimosas, then swipe your kid's (or the neighbor kid's) big wheel, and head over to Vermont Street at 20th -- the race officially kicks off at 5:00 p.m. And remember: NO RUBBER WHEELS! (via SF Metblog)

Market Street is the "deadliest" street in San Francisco for cyclists, according to Sunday's Chronicle. There have been a grand total of 215 bicycle collisions on the street since 1997, with three resulting in deaths and 14 in severe injuries. The corner of Market and Octavia is widely believed to be one of the most dangerous intersections for SF bikers. During the years of 2006-07, four cyclists were severely injured at the spot, partly due to motorists making illegal right turns. The spate of articles about bike safety follow the death of two Bay Area cyclists who were hit and killed by a deputy sheriff last weekend in Santa Clara. The SF Bike Coalition issued a statement on their Web site warning against the haste to depict cycling as dangerous. They site several studies that show, among other things, that "people who bike to work have a 39% lower rate of mortality than those who do not, even after adjusting for other risk factors." ( photo from edmsf.blogspot )-Andy Wright

The Mercury News reported on Stanford's search for a new body to fill its unofficial mascot, the Redwood Tree, yesterday. The mascot was first introduced in 1975 after Stanford did away with team moniker the Indians at the urging of Native Americans. The mischievous Stanford marching band proposed several new mascots, including a Steaming Manhole, but the tree proved most popular. Tree Week commences once a year, during which students visit all kinds of humiliations upon themselves to land the gig. (click 'more')

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The Chronicle reports that about 1,000 people, at least one of which was dressed in blue spandex and wearing a luchador mask, showed up for the third annual Valentines Day Pillow fight at Justin Herman Plaza last night. Anyone who thought the event would be a fun filled frolic was sorely mistaken. The pillow fight always takes on a decidedly aggro edge, with participants walloping total strangers full force in the face while their pillows ejaculate great volumes of down into the air. One combatant, seemingly in the throws of ecstasy, screamed continuously at the top of her lungs, "Oooooooh, God, this is grrrrrrreat! Oh, God! There’s a feather up my nose!" There were an ill advised number of children in the frenzied crowd, including babies in baby strollers whose parents laughed in the face of potential crushing death. Newbies who weren’t prepared for the brawl stood around the edges of the melee looking dazed and tapping each other with pillows. Like all San Francisco cluster fucks, the event has already produced it’s fair share of Craigslist missed connections."I hit you with a pillow" admits poster m4w, 27. "I saw you at the pillow fight, I was the tall guy with dark hair. I thought you were really cute. Then I whacked you on the head with a pillow. Sorry about that. What to get coffee some time?" (picture from Laughing Squid) -Andy Wright

Tahoe snow levels just went from 40 percent of the yearly average to 130 percent. Go get some powder like I did last weekend by being the first to comment on this post. To repeat:

First Comment on This Post Wins a Pair of Heavenly Lift Tickets

The Golden State Warriors have signed prodigal son Chris Webber for the rest of the season. Don't scream "championship" just yet. How will a slow-footed yet solid post presence contribute to a freewheelin' squad built on transition offense? When a team like the Wild Bunch Warriors generally put up a shot within the first eight seconds of the shot clock, Webber has to be under the basket for a loose ball before then. Which he won't. This is just about as great as the time Vlade Divac came back to the Lakers, and that was pretty shitty. -- Oscar Pascual

We've heard about stuffing clowns into cars or frat boys into phone booths — but football players into bowls?

Apparently it's happening at Florida State.

In a teaser on its main page, ESPN.com noted that "20 FSU players might be pulled from bowl."

Either they're making big bowls or tiny football players down there in Tallahassee (or a cheating scandal could keep Seminole players out of the Music City Bowl, but where's the fun in that?).

— Joe Eskenazi

Photo | Courtesy of sweetings.com

Today marks the official "wave window" opening for the Mavericks surf contest in Half Moon Bay and many would-be competitors are expected to show up for the official paddle out ceremony at 2:00 PM. After a disappointing cancellation for lack of waves last year, hope are running very high for some gnarly rides this time around.

The window of opportunity for the contest will stay open until March 31, 2008, and contestants are given just 24 hours notice to get there when the insanely large, desirable waves -- up to 50 feet high -- shape up. Surfers and watchers alike should make haste and sign up for email/text alerts to get the official greenlight message.

Check out some wicked video (above) of the final heat of the 2006 contest and don't forget that when the bay finally calls the day, you will be able to watch the whole thing live and free, via webcast.

-- Brian Bernbaum

As the 49ers' season swirls in the bowl (and this metaphor grows even more fecal when one considers San Francisco's first-round draft pick is bound for the mighty New England Patriots) the inevitable has come to pass: The team will have to get its blowout losses done without Alex Smith.

The third-year quarterback battled an injury in his throwing shoulder much of this year — but, to be honest, he never really looked solid even when he was healthy. Smith's disappearing act is all part of a team-wide meltdown that gives preseason playoff predictions the whiff of Enron stock options.

Remember when all we had to get worked up about was Coach Mike Nolan's suit?

On the bright side, however, punter Andy Lee is having a hell of a year.

Oh man. Do we need a drink.

— Joe Eskenazi

Photo | AP/Paul Sakuma

Raiders Beat Broncos, So What!
Oh, Lord, why did you only let Jamillions take about ten snaps?

You answered my prayers and then squashed them like a tiny ant. I can honestly say through my nice tall glass of Haterade that it was awesome to see Jamillions take a snap or two. Not that I think the Raiders are some great team now. We have a losing record against winning teams so you do the math. At least the god of pigskin was kind enough to send a little Jamillions our way.

So I can’t say the Raiders totally sucked. McCown threw

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Cowgirls Suck: Top 5 reasons to be happy you’re not a Dallas Cowboys fan

1. You don’t have to root for a team whose cheerleaders wear such demeaning outfits that they look like walking STDs.

2. You don’t have the embarrassment of knowing the referees (and their dubious calls) are the most likely contenders for winning as Dallas’ Most Valuable Players in last night’s game against the Green Bay Packers.

3. Dallas is deep in the heart of Texas, the state that brought you Halliburton and other corporations notorious for cronyism and corruption—not to mention George W. Bush, a politician notorious for cronyism and corruption.

4. Your favorite team’s cheerleaders best performance wasn’t on The Love Boat—and even then they were upstaged by Charo.

5. Your quarterback isn’t rumored to be dating Jessica Simpson (Ewww!)