Or your attitude, probably.
The San Francisco Giants have been at an impasse of sorts. An impasse that made a date with the eight-win Colorado Rockies somehow feel more like a haunted house than an opportunity. Their formula, while not necessarily intentional, has been clear: pitch and defend so damn well that the tiny shred of offense the hitters can provide is enough to win.
That’s how they’ve won their games — almost all their games. There have been 148 instances this season where a team has allowed four or more runs and won the game. The Giants are responsible for one of those 148 instances.
That is the formula. Pitch damn well. Defend damn well. And assume the offense will trip in the batter’s box, fall into a pitch, and repeat that over and over until they score a meager number of runs, which will hopefully be enough.
It’s won them some games. But it has virtually no margin for error. When the pitching hiccups, the Giants lose. When the defense hiccups, the Giants lose. When the umpires hiccup, the Giants lose. When I hiccup, the Giants lose.
So the Rockies — or, more specifically, Coors Field — represented a daunting challenge on an already failed road trip. The Giants are at that magnificently grimy place where a hitter’s ballpark instills you with the knowledge that the pitching will not be able to hold up, while affording no such confidence for improvement with the bats.
I remember distinctly when I had the realization that I lacked the proper mental coding to be a successful athlete. It was a high school basketball game, and my teammate was shooting a free throw. I was lined up for a potential rebound, the rules stating I must cede pole position to the other team. How in the hell could I ever get the rebound when I’m starting behind this guy, I remember thinking. A few possessions later I was lined up for a free throw rebound again, this time given the inside track as the other team shot. How in the hell could I ever get the rebound when this guy behind me can just go around me, I thought.
When you’re struggling in sports, be it for a month (like the Giants) or a lifetime (like myself), everything turns into a game of heads you win, tails I lose. How could one possibly expect the Giants pitchers, talented as they may be, to limit runs at Coors Field, where even an A-Ball team would run wild? And how could one possibly expect the Giants hitters, feckless as they are, to score, ballpark be damned?
The latter part of that confidence-less prophecy did appear valid for the first act of Tuesday’s game. The Giants quickly banked a leadoff runner which, it might shock you to learn, is actually something they do exceedingly well. It’s the stuff that follows where things get sticky.
Life imitates art, or vice versa, and so Jung Hoo Lee singled in his first Coors Field foray, and was quickly wiped away by a Thairo Estrada double play. LaMonte Wade Jr. then drew a two-out walk but alas, you’ve seen his film many times before.
And in the second, Mike Yastrzemski bopped a one-out double — I say bopped because it was a glorious, semi-routine pop-up, in which the Rockies learned that the double negative thing that our parents and English teachers warned us about was a fear-tactic myth. Two players not catching a ball is still just a not-caught ball.
After Matt Chapman ground out, something he does painfully well, Blake Sabol gave the Giants another two-out walk. Another two-out walk they would squander.
And in the third, after two meager outs were recorded, Wade drew yet another two-out walk, and then Michael Conforto followed that lead. Wilmer Flores would then ground out.
Through three innings, the Giants had two hits, four walks, and no runs. It was a fully-authentic Giants Experience™, but there was a silver lining to accompany the frustration: they’d forced Dakota Hudson to throw 73 pitches in those three innings.
And in the bottom halves of the innings, Kyle Harrison was rendering the other portion of the prophecy obsolete. His first dance with Coors Field was going swimmingly. Sure, walks were his kryptonite in the Minors, and you can’t have those in Denver. And yes, home runs have been his Achilles heel in the Majors, and Dinger the mascot demands at least three of those as payment to visit his field.
But Harrison didn’t care. Through that first three-inning act, Harrison had allowed half as many baserunners as Hudson … and thrown 34 fewer pitches.
Still, it had all the workings and trappings of another frustrating Giants loss. We’ve all seen the Giants offense face someone with a 5.93 ERA, as Hudson wore into battle, and we’ve all seen them stack hit upon walk upon hit against said pitcher, while the pitch count swells, and yet they never break through with a run. And we’ve all seen the Giants talented corps of pitchers, as Mason Black bore witness to in his debut on Monday, pitch very well, only for Bob Melvin to inform them that greatness is required.
It was with hesitancy that I wrote on Twitter that Hudson had thrown 73 pitches and Harrison 39. Coors Field is merciless. Hudson would gut and grind his way through five innings on 110 pitches, somehow holding the Giants scoreless, and let his mediocre-on-a-good-day bullpen finish the job. Harrison would be excellent until he wasn’t, and then that would be that.
The cruelty of a 162-game season is that negative trends develop and you’re stuck with them. It’s the worst season of your favorite show and you have to watch every episode, and then you have to watch the reruns twice until the next season is released.
But the beauty of a 162-game season is that sometimes you buck those trends, maybe for a day, maybe for a week, or maybe for so long that you learn the trends were never trends at all, just randomly dispersed pellets of disappointment, designed to make your pessimistic tendencies shiver with anticipation.
And on Tuesday, the Giants bucked those trends. Specifically, Harrison bucked those trends. He got through the fourth inning on seven pitches, working around a one-out single by Brendan Rodgers, who never reached second. He set down the side in order in the fifth inning. He needed 13 pitches to get through the sixth inning, again not allowing a one-out single (this time Ryan McMahon) to advance a bag. He walked Jacob Stallings with one out in the seventh inning but, like those fallen Rockies before him, Stallings would never know the splendors of second base.
His night was done after seven splendid innings, in which he’d allowed a mere four hits — all singles — and two walks. One of the great strikeout pitchers in recent Minor League history, Harrison once again reminded that he’s so much more, keeping the Rockies fully at bay with just two punchouts. With just 86 pitches required, Harrison might have dabbled in attempting his first complete game, where it not for Melvin realizing that Harrison has a limited number of innings to offer this year, and just might be the team’s co-ace.
Altitude got nothing on Kyle pic.twitter.com/kPnfXEVFWf
— SFGiants (@SFGiants) May 8, 2024
It was the first time since Barry Zito, 12 whole years ago, that a Giants pitcher had dealt at least seven shutout innings at Coors. It was just the second time that any pitcher had done so this year, joining another once-great Giants prospect, Luis Castillo. And for one day, at least, Harrison had made sure that the torturous and obvious storylines the Giants have been rolling out were set aside.
I’d love to tell you the Giants offense bucked the trend so successfully, too. That they put on a hit parade and smashed dingers to every part of the yard. That their run differential was reversed in one night and you suddenly had faith in their offensive production.
But then again, what actually happened just might be even more comforting. The Giants broke through not with offensive force, but with simplicity, perseverance, and, if we’re being honest, luck. But, as long as we’re being honest, we must point out that luck has eluded their bats most of the year.
In the fourth inning, with one out, Chapman drew the team’s fifth walk … but their first with less than two outs. Blake Sabol, who has done an admirable job stepping in for the team’s sudden loss of catchers, singled, and Chapman played it perfectly, ending up at third when no one would have blamed him for staying at second.
The table was set for a team that loves to throw their food on the floor. And up came Ahmed, intent on reminding us of the silliness of this sport. Just two innings prior, Ahmed had hit with two runners on, and lined one straight up the middle at 104.2 mph, with a .750 expected batting average. Rodgers dove and caught the ball to end the inning.
This time Ahmed hit the ball 82.7 mph, with an expected batting average of .090. McMahon fielded it, had no play at second, and by the time he realized that, had no play at first, either. Any harder and it would have been an inning-ending double play. Instead, it was an infield single, a run scored, and a rally re-ignited.
Exactly one pitch later, Lee hit a ball at all of 36.0 mph. A true terror of speed. Again McMahon fielded it, again McMahon realized he had no play but at first, and again McMahon then realized he had no play there, either.
The bases were loaded, which you, I, and everybody knows is bad news. Bad news when the Giants are pitching, and especially bad news when the Giants are hitting.
Exactly one pitch later, Estrada hit a ball at 78.0 mph, with Rodgers learning from McMahon and knowing immediately could only mean success at first. Estrada was retired, but a second run had scored.
Two runs in a single inning! What sorcery!
And they weren’t even done. Three soft ground balls on three consecutive pitches spelled he end of the night for Hudson, who surely shook his head wondering how he had gotten so unlucky. How fun it is to be on this side of that act.
In came old friend Ty Blach and Wade, getting to stay in against a lefty, ripped one right back where it came from for a two-run single.
4-in-4 special pic.twitter.com/GaQ20cn70P
— SFGiants (@SFGiants) May 8, 2024
The Giants, who had scored four runs exactly once in their last 11 games, had scored four runs in the fourth inning alone. They hadn’t done it with a home run, or even an extra-base hit. I almost think it’s better this way.
They added another run in the seventh, when singles by Estrada and Conforto bookmarked a third walk drawn by Wade.
‘Forto amplía la ventaja pic.twitter.com/vQoetUwU8z
— SF Gigantes (@SFGigantes) May 8, 2024
And when Harrison traded in his fastball for an inhaler, Ryan Walker emerged to strike out all three batters he faced in the eighth, with Camilo Doval shaking off the cobwebs to handle the ninth.
The Giants won 5-0. They won because Kyle Harrison dominated, and the rest of the formula fell right into place.