Moneyball and the 2011 San Francisco Giants By Chuck Strom

When I heard that Moneyball was being made into a movie, I wondered how a book about the inside business of baseball and the arcane subject of sabermetrics could ever translate into something that could be watched on a screen for two hours. I thought it would never work.

Now that I’ve seen the movie, I stand corrected, and I thank Brad Pitt and absolve him of his tabloid sins for his vision and determination to see that it got made. Though his performance earned the critical praise that it received, I was even more impressed by the visual artistry of Moneyball. Where book discussed the challenges that Billy Beane faced with the Oakland Athletics in 2002, the movie demonstrated them with striking images, such as the giant Jason Giambi and Johnny Damon banners tumbling down the face of the Oakland Coliseum after the players departed for free agency. Even more impressive was the wizardry Moneyball performed in transforming the Coliseum from the unsightly concrete pile that exists in reality to the magical place that appeared on screen. Of course, it helped that in the glory days of the early 2000s Athletics the upper decks were full of cheering fans, not covered as they are now with weather-beaten green tarps.

So, go see Moneyball. It is not only for the baseball fans among us but for anyone who dreams of conceiving an idea and seeing it come to life despite a legion of doubters. With the recent passing of Steve Jobs dominating the current media landscape, its reminder of the romantic notion of success despite adversity is very timely.

In reality, however, man frequently succumbs to adversity, which brings up the 2011 San Francisco Giants. Unlike the 2002 Athletics, the 2011 Giants entered the season with the highest of expectations. With their pitching staff and most of their lineup intact, the Giants were expected at least to contend in October for another championship flag to accompany the 2010 banner that they raised on Opening Day. The pitchers delivered as advertised, helped greatly by the improbable rise of Ryan Vogelsong from the minor-league scrap-heap to the starting staff and a selection to the National League All-Star team. Unfortunately the lineup failed to meet even reasonable standards of competency, in part due to injuries to catcher Buster Posey and second baseman Freddie Sanchez as well as a lack of conditioning in the offseason by last year’s top RBI-producer, Aubrey Huff. Despite a season-long litany of groundouts to second base, the Giants strung together far more late-inning comebacks and one-run victories than they deserved and appeared at the beginning of August to be in good shape to reclaim the NL West crown, having added right fielder Carlos Beltan to the lineup just before the trade deadline.

It was at this point in the season that I took my daughters to a game at AT&T Park, fulfilling my duty as a father to see that they received proper teaching in the true religion. Traffic and delays in negotiating an unfamiliar parking garage caused us to arrive too late for batting practice, but we had enough time to stroll around the promenade, purchase a plastic Brian Wilson beard for Bethany, and admire the boats that had begun to collect in McCovey Cove. I pointed out some of the features of the park not always apparent on a TV screen, such as the championship banner and the smaller pennants representing the order in the standings in the NL West—the Giants flag still on top at that point—but all too soon it was time to go up to our seats in the right field upper deck for the game. The Giants did their best to earn our loyalty that day, scoring eight runs while Vogelsong pitched six innings and gave up only two. The girls wanted very much to see Wilson, and though the lopsided margin normally precluded an appearance by the closer, he had not pitched in several days due to a recent string of losses and I hoped that the manager might run him out to give him some work. In preparation for this possibility, we accomplished the increasingly rare feat of trading up our seats, scoring three in the lower deck just on the first base side of home plate in the middle of the eighth inning. Unfortunately we got Javier Lopez and Sergio Romo instead of Wilson in the ninth, but they closed out the game without incident, and we celebrated in the nearby Giants Dugout store after the game with T-shirts for all.

It was good that we showed up when we did, because for the next six weeks the Giants, having used up all of their good fortune for the season, dropped steadily in the standings as injuries claimed Beltran, Wilson, and much of what was left of the lineup. An eight-game winning streak in late September raised the prospect of sneaking into the playoffs with a wild-card berth, but a series sweep by the Diamondbacks on the final weekend of the season ended my hope of adding an NLDS ticket to my collection of postseason memorabilia. I accepted the disappointment with little angst. As I explained to my friend who had accompanied me to the NLCS last year, seasons that end early allow us to appreciate the fun of October all the more when we get the chance.

Pitchers and catchers report in February.

– Chuck Strom