Changing Of The Guard

June 1

Sports is the Church Of What’s Happening Now, and right now, Tim Lincecum is not the king of the hill. This holiday weekend confirmed that Ubaldo Jimenez and Roy Halladay are the best pitchers in baseball. Lincecum, meanwhile, is working through some stuff.

Speaking of stuff, Mike Krukow says Jimenez has the best in the National League. I disagree. What he displayed in the first eight innings Monday at A T and T Park was about the best I’ve seen from any major league pitcher this year, and his numbers bear that out.

Jimenez has taken his considerable skills to the next level this season, and for most of the day Giants hitters were no match for his 96 to 98 mile an hour fastball with late movement, along with a plus slider. Outside of Pablo Sandoval’s three hits, there was little doubt Jimenez was in control until the 9th inning, when he was leaking oil but was bailed out on a Juan Uribe lineout to left to end the game.

How do you reduce an ERA of 0.88? Throw a shutout. Jimenez is now 10-1 with a 0.78 ERA.

Halladay, who has been on top for several years and might lay claim to the title of best pitcher on his generation, took it to a new level Saturday with his perfect game. Although Lincecum is the reigning two-time Cy Young winner, he’ll probably give up the hardware to Jimenez or Halladay this year. ( At least the Giants beat Halladay. )

Lincecum, meanwhile, has set expectations so high that when he is ordinary, it looks awful. I thought he would rise to the occasion of facing Jimenez Monday after a couple of rough outings, but he is not back yet. He is still fighting command of his fastball and the “power changeup” or split-finger pitch that has been the best strikeout weapon in baseball the last couple of seasons.

That is evident in his lack of control, even in the strike zone. Witness a 90 mile an hour fastball over the plate that Todd Helton clobbered to right center for an RBI double in the 5th. Still too many mistakes.

Most troubling for Lincecum was a 32 pitch second inning in which he failed to close out Clint Barmes, who was batting .211 coming into the game. With two outs on a two-strike count, Barmes hit a sharp ground ball up the middle to knock in two runs. The air went out of Lincecum’s balloon right there.

There were times when Lincecum looked like Lincecum, but not often enough. He did a nice job of working out of a jam in the 4th but couldn’t make it out of the 6th. His final line : 5 2/3 innings, 6 hits, 4 runs allowed, 3 earned, five walks and three strikeouts and 121 pitches. That’s five walks in each of four consecutive outings, although two were intentional Monday.

In addition, Lincecum is still working on holding runners on. That needs improvement as well. It wasn’t as much of an issue when he wasn’t allowing so many runners, but now it is.

I said it on the air last week: once or twice is an anomaly, three or four times is a trend. For Lincecum, the problems now constitute a trend. Should the Giants panic? Of course not. Should they be a bit concerned ? Definitely.

Suddenly, Lincecum Day is no longer Win Day. On a day when the atmosphere at A T and T Park should have been electric, it seemed the energy was sucked out of the place — both by the dominance of Jimenez and the disappointing performance of Lincecum. The Rockies have to feel that Jimenez day is Win Day now, and even if Lincecum had been 100 percent he might not have beaten Jimenez Monday.

In fairness, Lincecum may be off to the best start to a pitcher’s career since Gooden or Clemens. It is wrong to think he could keep up the same level of excellence forever. He has shown himself to be ultra-competitive, but now we’ll really be able to measure his greatness by how he responds to a little adversity. He’ll probably get another chance to face Jimenez this year.

Is Lincecum bothered by a blister, or is he dealing with mechanical issues? Or both ? Blisters can linger, while mechanical issues can be fixed. Lincecum will certainly get every opportunity to work things out.

Absolutely no one would be surprised if Lincecum returns to form, and absolutely no one should be shocked that he’s in a slump. Sports is cyclical, and when you’re on top you have a target on your back. Lincecum’s back was already carrying the weight of this team. It’s simply time for someone else in the rotation to carry the load for a while, and maybe Matt Cain is that guy. A one-hitter against the slugging Diamondbacks was a good start.

***

Sports talk and blogging are havens for the self-indulgent, so allow me to do a victory strut. The terrific arrival of Buster Posey over the weekend felt like sweet vindication, at least for the moment. Posey got a true education in major league pitching going 0-fer against Jimenez Monday, but I am glad the Giants called him up, even if it’s just for a couple of weeks. I hope it’s permanent.

I thought Posey could at least help the Giants’ offense, and his addition along with a healthy Freddy Sanchez certainly made a difference Saturday and Sunday. The Giants lineup is still no match for an elite pitcher such as Jimenez, but it is better. For now.

Posey’s stay might be short-lived, but as I wrote last week, he and Bengie Molina are not mutually exclusive. He has indeed played a decent first base while Huff goes to left field. As long as he hits, you find a place for his bat, and the Giants did.

Giants fans got a glimpse at the kind of hitter Posey might become: a middle-of-the-order guy who can knock in runs, if not with home runs. If Sandoval can come out of his funk, you could see Posey-Sandoval as the 3-4 hitters for years to come. That would answer a crying need for the offense. Sandoval’s confidence probably received a huge boost when he got three hits off Jimenez Monday.

I’m not concerned about taking away playing time from anyone, especially Aaron Rowand, as long as Posey is making an impact. Come July or August, he might be a fixture in the lineup. Maybe sooner. That should be fun to watch.

***

I just heard someone on TV say “Happy Memorial Day.” Bad knowledge.

Memorial Day

May 28

Memorial Day means the start of summer. Three-day weekend, baby! Some make it four or five days. Road trip, baby!

It means a barbecue, family picnic, or maybe a ballgame. Monday will provide a delicious holiday treat at AT and T Park, when Tim Lincecum faces the Rockies’ Ubaldo Jiminez, a marquee pitching matchup. Good times.

For my wife, it means heading out to Colma Cemetery to put flowers on her father’s grave. For me, it means putting out a framed triangle flag. Both our dads were U.S Marines, and my father served three years in the South Pacific in World War II. I’m sure many readers and listeners have similar stories to tell.

It might sound trite to some — I hope not many — but Monday is a day to remember the people who made sure we could have picnics and ballgames and barbecues, and do so in relative peace. There was a time when the very fate of the world hung in the balance, and millions of men and women willingly turned their lives upside down for something bigger than themselves. Many paid with their lives.

If you’re uncertain about the importance of Memorial Day, I highly recommend you watch “Band of Brothers,” or the ten-part “The Pacific” which will re-air this weekend on HBO. Apart from being compelling film-making, they tell the stories that needed to be told — about the people who fought in World War II and about the real horror of combat, not the sanitized version we’ve seen in so many movies. There is a tremendous amount of gore in these HBO films but it’s necessary.

I’m not here to talk politics but I appreciate where I live and how we got here.

My gratitude for my parents’ generation grows with each year. Yes, they had their faults — a laundry list of social problems we don’t need to detail right now — but they shined in the most important categories. Their success in those categories gave us a future to work on those other problems. In fact, you can argue that the war effort was the seed for the civil rights and women’s movements of the coming decades.

Most of all, that generation displayed qualities that are sadly lacking today — in particular, sacrificing for others, and doing so without tooting one’s own horn. With some exceptions, we have become such a ridiculously self-centered culture that the contrast is at times shocking. It’s reflected in the economy, on the roadways, and especially in sports.

It’s ridiculous to discuss athletes who are “warriors,” those who “overcome adversity” and those who are “heroes.” I think most intellligent fans now realize those words are badly misused and that kind of adulation is badly misplaced in the sports world. When you see the real story of World War II, or even what modern-day service people go through, you understand just how badly.

So on Memorial Day, I remember real heroes, and I remember my Dad.

In March 1999, as he was fading away from cancer, we had a final conversation. He made the only reference to his wartime experience I remember — and it was not about combat. It is very typical of people from that generation not to talk about their war experiences, either because they truly didn’t believe they were doing something special or because they simply don’t want to re-live the horror.

My Dad’s story? A chance to see Joe DiMaggio play an exhibition game on some Pacific island, a welcome relief for him and many other Marines. He was a huge sports fan — especially the Yankees — and 55 years later, the Yankee Clipper’s game was still like yesterday for him. That was the last time we spoke. Three days later he was gone.

I was glad he was no longer in pain, and in a sporting sense I was glad that he at least got to enjoy the 1998 season, when the Yankees fielded one of the greatest teams of all time. I was never a Yankee fan but appreciated why my Dad rooted for them.

Dad grew up in Joplin, Missouri, a Yankee farm town, and saw some of the future Yankee stars when they were young. He was also a big Cardinals fan — Johnny “Big Cat” Mize was a favorite — and he often told the story of taking road trips with his buddies to Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis in the years before the war.

Through all the upheaval of the 60′s and 70′s, we had a common interest in sports that kept the lines of communication open. Our politics weren’t always the same but we always had something to talk about — whether it was baseball, or attending UCLA football or basketball games.

Dad was a guy like many of his generation — he suffered through The Great Depression and losses to his family, fought in a war, was lucky enough to survive, and came back and educated himself to live a better life. His story was so extraordinary because it was so ordinary for its time.

Dad continued to work until the last couple of months of his life, even in his late 70′s, because he liked to stay busy. At his funeral his boss, who is Jewish, called him “a mensch.” I could think of no higher compliment.

The Marines presented his wife, my stepmom, with the traditional three-point folded American flag. She handed it over to me. I could think of no greater gift.

Every Memorial Day and Veterans Day, that flag sits on our front window sill.

The Posey Question

May 26

First things first — Buster Posey is not the savior.

No one is saying he is. I never said he was. I am well aware that Pacific Coast League numbers don’t always translate in the majors.

On the other hand …

In a desperate attempt to shake up a moribund offense, Giants Manager Bruce Bochy has already shown a willingness to put Aubrey Huff in left field. It’s not a leap to find a place for Posey’s bat.

Posey has nothing left to prove in the minors. He’s a top five draft pick. Other players from that 2008 draft are already in the Show, including Gordon Beckham, Brian Matusz, and Justin Smoak. In Fresno, he is playing every day, but with the big club struggling to score runs, promoting Posey couldn’t hurt.

Posey might not be up until at least June because a) the Giants supposedly don’t want to upset Bengie Molina, b) the Giants don’t think he’s ready to be a major league catcher, c) they don’t want to put too much pressure on Posey, and d) it’s economically feasible to delay his arbitration clock.

On the other hand …

I keep hearing excuses on why Posey can’t come up, but he’s your #1 pick and he’s raking in Fresno. My question is the same as Bluto’s in “Animal House” … ” (burp) why not ? “

Posey might not be ready to carry the load behind the plate, and the Giants already have Eli Whiteside as a backup, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be in the lineup. Posey has shown the ability to play first and third base and is a good enough athlete that you could probably stick him in left field without much worry. Again, the Giants have already put Aubrey Huff out there. Posey could play at least three or four days a week.

Another argument is that promoting Posey would cause Bengie Molina to mentally check out. First of all, it would be pretty sad if an established veteran such as Molina is that touchy, and that worried about a rookie. You would think he would be more professional than that. You would think.

Frankly, I won’t care what Molina thinks in a couple of months, anyway, as he will be on his way out. On top of that Posey would not be the automatic heir-apparent behind the plate just because he’s on the big club. He could play other positions. It’s also true that Posey can only learn so much by catching in the minors, so he would benefit more from time in the majors.

Worried about taking playing time from others ? Whom ? Rowand, Torres, Schierholtz, Bowker ? Outside of Torres, none of these guys is doing much right now. Fewer at-bats for Rowand might be a good thing at the moment, his contract be damned.

The hoopla surrounding Posey has grown for several reasons; first, his performance. He has been a .300 hitter at all levels, and local fans got a chance to see him in San Jose. Second, Giants fans are desperate for ANY kind of offense, and I sense Giants pitchers feel the same way. Third, outside of the September ’09 call-up he doesn’t have a major league track record, so like the backup quarterback, he hasn’t done anything worth boo’ing yet.

Let me reiterate: I NEVER, EVER said Posey was the savior. I’ve seen enough “can’t-miss” prospects end up flaming out in the majors, and Posey is not going to be a 30-home run guy even if he succeeds. But I ask the question again: how long do you sit on your #1 pick ?

A Weekend Parade Of Pain

May 24

Soon after the Sharks and Giants were swept on Sunday, I went out to play golf. I must be some kind of masochist.

I played 18 holes at San Ramon Golf Club with Mike (Scruffy ) Hohler, who didn’t have time to shave his playoff beard after the Sharks’ demise.

In my third round since the golf comeback, it happened. I started developing expectations, which led to frustration. I shot a 106, which included a birdie on a par 4, but I could only think about the wasted opportunities, what could have been. Now I know how the Sharks feel.

***

The best parts of the round : reaching the green with an approach shot out of a ditch, and another playing partner who came up with all possible combinations of five swear words when he hit a bad shot. More than once, Mike and I had to turn our backs, walk away, and muffle a laugh.

More than once, the poor guy fired a tee shot into a house next to a tee box. I’m sure the people who bought the house thought “oh, we’re next to the tee box. Nobody will EVER hit it here.”

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. The guy hit power lines not once, but twice. On consecutive tee shots on consecutive holes. You’d get better odds on Lindsay Lohan becoming a nun.

On the first tee shot, the power lines were farther away and the ball just skimmed one. The second one, however, was a direct hit. That power line got every part of the ball. It was as if the line was ten feet thick. And yes, the fusillade of creative profanity continued.

At least he made more contact than the Giants did. ( rim shot. )

***

On Facebook, I received about 25 different suggestions on improving the Giants offense. They included “schedule the Astros every two weeks” and “fire Sabean.” I’m sure the Giants will go on a tear once Sabean goes …

***

There are no quick fixes for the Giants as they’re currently constituted. Without much power or speed, they will struggle to score runs until the pieces are changed. An infusion of Buster Posey this summer might help a bit, but short of a trade for a Ryan Braun or Prince Fielder, not much is going to change.

The 88 wins of last year were probably more than you could expect from that roster — and this team isn’t much different, barring a major deal. I would support giving up some pitching to get a bat. If the Giants don’t I’m afraid they will be hovering around .500 and not even in wild card contention this year.

Maybe it’s time to think about dealing Matt Cain or Jonathan Sanchez. I know there are some Giants fans who would be fine with that, and others who cringe at the thought of Sabean making another deal.

I have declared my baseball love for Adrian Gonzalez, but long-term, Pablo Sandoval will probably be the first baseman and a deal for A-Gon is highly unlikely. Look to third base or the outfield for your future bats, if the Giants make a deal. That’s where a Braun or Jayson Werth comes into play.

Or, get creative. Roy Oswalt is available and because of his contract it wouldn’t take much to get him. Assume his deal for at least this year, then turn around and trade one of the other starting pitchers for a bat. Hey, at least I’m trying.

***

And please, Giants fans, I don’t want to hear another word about the hitting coach. This season proves what I was saying last year — the hitting coach doesn’t make that much of a difference. What’s more important is the KIND of hitters you have, and whether the hitting coach works well with veterans.

All the talk about Hensley Muelens instilling a more patient approach is empty. Water is seeking its own level, and for the most part this group of hitters remains uncontrollably impatient, expect for Aubrey Huff, a newcomer.

***

The A’s reminded me of the Padres: they had a great scouting report on how to pitch to Giants hitters, they had a good mixture of young and veteran pitchers, they did the little things correctly, and they’re probably better than we thought.

***

Look for changes for the Sharks in the offseason. Not major ones — Patrick Marleau will probably be re-signed and Todd McClellan will remain coach — but Evgeni Nabokov is in question. He’s been good but not great — you need to be great in the playoffs. But he’s not the only problem.

It’s just a layman’s opinion, but it seems to me the Sharks need to get younger and more agile on defense, add some speed on the wings, and get a guy who can camp out in front of the net and disturb the goalie. Oh yes, and maybe they can kneecap Dustin Byfuglien, too.

It’s also fair to say the Sharks with a healthy Dany Heatley might have been a better team in this series. He was clearly slowed by injury.

Although this year represented a step forward the Sharks should not be happy, and I don’t think the front office will be.

***

Rim Shot Alley:

Steve Nash will face Manny Pacquaio this fall. It can’t be any worse than the beating he takes in the NBA playoffs and could be just as lucrative.

The Blackhawks’ Duncan Keith just got an endorsement deal with Chiclets.

( By the way, Keith had seven teeth knocked out by the shot from Patrick Marleau, but the net loss was only five. He says two of the teeth were fake. Quoting: “Hopefully I can get fum knife teef now. ” )

Dwayne Bowe, Facebook Flirt Of The Week.

( Nice job, Bowe, telling the story about importing women on road trips via Facebook — and telling it to ESPN the Magazine. You just outed all of your teammates plus got some innocent teammates in trouble with their wives. Now, I can’t ever by imported ANYTHING again. )

President Obama said he wants LeBron on the Bulls. NBA Commissioner David Stern prompty fined him 100-grand for tampering.

Amusing Things

May 21

Things that amuse me …

Athletes who deny and deny and deny steroid use … even publishing a book to that effect … fess up once they’ve collected a million bucks for their “defense” … and try to take down everyone in their sport.

Athletes who deny and deny and deny steroid use in a sport they dominate — a sport where most of their top competitors are juicing.

Red-ass umpires. Guys who think they’re bigger than the game, when they’re barely bigger than the bat-boy. Talkin’ to you, Mark Wegner. I thought I was done ranting on this topic until I saw Wegner stick out his bird-chest at the end of last night’s Giants-Diamondback game. Just walk away, Squeak Scolari.

Or, guys who think they’re bigger than the game — when they’re bigger than a narwhal.

“Superstar” players who loaf, then throw their manager and teammates under the bus after they’re benched … only to apologize after a public outcry.

Fans who get into an uproar over steroid use in the “sacred” sport of baseball, but when it comes to football … crickets. The Santana Moss story ? Barely a ripple.

Fans who claim “we don’t get respect.” If a fan is worried about that, the ultimate respect is a trophy, not what somebody else says. And, drop the “we.”

Reporters who laugh nervously at a stupid joke an athlete makes during an interview. They couldn’t look any more like a sycophant.

Sports talk callers who begin a conversation about baseball by saying “I coached Little League, and … ” Once they’ve done that, they have disqualified themselves from the debate. Hey, I coached Little League, too, but that’s not why Lee Hammer gave me a job.

Sports talk personalities who like to talk about people being “soft,” to puff themselves up. The funny part? They actually fool people into thinking they’re tough. I wonder what a guy who has been in the trenches at Guadalcanal would think about those on-air John Waynes ?

The “He Said – She Said” school of sports journalism. The latest example : Brian Urlacher’s pissing match with Gale Sayers, with Dick Butkus the third man in. Who cares, really ? It’s all just words that fill a slow day.

( Why is it a slow sports day? Because the NBA likes to have one playoff game a week. This does NOT amuse me. )

Basketball and hockey in June, football in February, baseball in November.

College football fans who root for schools they never attended. For most of these people, the stadium is the closest they ever got to a classroom.

College football fans who act like big-shot alumni. They never played but now they flash some cash so some 19-year-old kid can make them look good. Pathetic.

Celebrities and/or athletes who make startling personal admissions in public … days before their book is to be published.

Celebrities and/or athletes who say they wrote their ugly tell-all books to “help” people. They’re only trying to help themselves. Yes, that includes Darryl Strawberry, whose book I just reviewed — although he may need the bucks.

The fact that Kate Gosselin remains a “celebrity.” If you’re a lefthanded pitcher … or a blonde … you can apparently stick around for-ever.

People who try to cut ahead of their designated number in the Southwest Airlines “A” line. Ya’ll will get the seat you want, folks.

People who tailgate in the slow lane. These are the same drivers who complain about slow drivers in the FAST lane — then when the slow driver goes where they’re supposed to go, some motorists still try to create a dust-up. At this point it’s not about highway etiquette, but personal inadequacy.

People who search endlessly for the closest parking space … to the gym.

L.A. Story

May 19

I have made no bones about the fact that I was born in raised in Los Angeles. Why should I ? You don’t choose where you were born, and I actually enjoyed growing up there in a very exciting time.

But that was then, and this is now. I love being a NoCal guy and I won’t ever move away — but I can’t hate SoCal, because that’s where my peeps are. I’m sure you understand.

That being said, every time I visit L.A., I am reminded of why I don’t live there anymore. When we arrived at Burbank ( aka Bob Hope ) Airport Saturday morning, we were greeted with … a traffic jam on I-5! It’s like I never left.

The climate in L.A. is great, usually. But how many hours, weeks, months and years do people waste in traffic jams? Bay Area traffic is no picnic, but you won’t find any place like L.A., where the slowdowns can literally suck your soul dry.

They’re making an effort at public transit down there, but the area is too vast, and the effort began too late. L.A. used to have a nice little transit system known as the Red Car, but a dirty cabal of politicians and General Motors executives conspired to rip up the tracks so they could bring in hundreds of buses — the ironically-named Rapid Transit District — and build hundreds of miles of freeways.

L.A. always had smog, but in the 60′s and 70′s it looked like every house was having an outdoor barbecue. I grew up in a home on a hill approximately 10 miles from downtown. I could tell whether it was going to be a bad day if the little pointy building known as City Hall was obscured by the haze. I can’t believe I ran cross country in high school through that muck — I’m still waiting for the balloon payment on that.

The region has tried to control smog since then, with some success, but it will always be the Pollution Index capital of the west. A city that had 2-million when I grew up now has twice as many, and that’s just a part of the Southland, with a total of some 15-million. There’s no turning back.

***

Does the name Mulholland ring a bell ? Not Mulholland Drive, but the man for whom it is named, William Mulholland. He’s the Department of Water and Power chief who oversaw construction of the Los Angeles Aqueduct, a 220-mile pipeline which drained the Owens Valley a century ago so that a mostly dry city could have a dependable supply of water.

As the water finally reached a reservoir in the San Fernando Valley, Mulholland summoned all the eloquence he could at this momentous occasion and said, “there it is — take it.” Those words have summed up SoCal ever since. L.A.’s population grew from 250,000 in 1913 to over a million in a decade, and the rest is history. A century of player-hating from the north began. A century of “we don’t want to become another L.A.” was heard in every other growing city.

I watched the Mulholland story on the History Channel while sipping on a rum and coke at the Embassy Suites bar in Anaheim on a Sunday evening. A more unlikely convergence you’ll never see. Even the bartender occasionally looked up from cleaning glasses to expand his mind.

***

We spent Saturday and Sunday nights in the OC, which if not for the fact that I have relatives living there and the presence of Disneyland, might be the most contemptible place in California. This is where narcissm has met materialism in its highest — or lowest — form. If you don’t understand, watch “Real Wives of Orange County.” Don’t watch too long, however — you might claw your eyes out.

A sure sign of the bad economy ; a fairly light crowd on a Sunday at Disneyland, where we took our little niece for her first visit. Highlights included Space Mountain — I managed not to pull a neck muscle — and the fireworks show where Tinker Bell slides down on a zip line from the Tramway. My niece said “Tinkerbell is brave.”

I have a feeling Tinkerbell’s next career move is Cirque du Soleil. Or the Gold Club.

Of course we rode “It’s A Small World,” which looks pretty cheesy nowadays but takes me back to my childhood. I might need an operation, however, to get that damn song out of my head. “Haunted Mansion” is a campy kind of fun, with the voice of the great Paul Frees as your “ghost host”, and “Pirates of the Caribbean” has incorporated Johnny Depp. Woohoo.

None of these rides is terribly high-tech but they’re just something you just have to do when you’re there. For some reason, people are willing to wait as much as two hours for “Pirates,” but our wait was only half an hour. During that time, my brother-in-law and I checked on our Iphones for the score of the Sharks game. By the time we reached our boat, the Sharks had lost. Damn.

***

Any time I go to an attraction such as Disneyland, I like to see if anyone is wearing a replica jersey. Just outside the Matterhorn I saw a guy walking around with a Dodger shirt. It was #9 with the name “Pierre” on the back. Really ? Juan Pierre ? And you wear it in public ?

A couple of days later at the University Studios CityWalk, I saw someone wearing an Eric Gagne jersey. Do these people know that these guys don’t play in LA anymore, and in fact have left in semi-disgrace ? When I grew up, Dodger fans were knowledgeable, if a bit blase. Now they’re less blase, but they’re knuckleheads. I don’t know if that’s a good trade-off.

L.A. is a Laker town, though — especially now that they appear to be headed back to the finals. USC football, which passes for pro football ( in oh so many ways ) is also huge. Anywhere in town, you will find a show-off in a new BMW or Mercedes sporting the “USC Alumni” or “UCLA Alumni” license plate frame, but I’d guess USC still has the edge in numbers. Even in this town, there are front-runners.

In fact, harkening back to my stay in the OC, you are very likely to see a newer German automobile with the USC license plate frame on just about every block. A guy with slick-backed hair and shades will be driving, usually cutting in and out of traffic because he’s more important than you, with his blonde trophy wife by his side. He has probably made his money in derivates or by screwing someone somehow. This might be a broad generalization, but not terribly far from the truth.

***

The little cherry on top for our L.A. visit was a graduation ceremony for our nephew Thomas at Cal State Northridge. Thomas is also in the radio business, working for the Clear Channel conglomeration that includes KLAC — the very station from which Tony Bruno broadcasts “Into the Night.”

If the weather was any omen, the ‘Class of 2010 is going to have a tough time in the real world. The graduation was held at 8 a.m. (cue the “Who does that? Who has time?” drop ) in a steady downpour. I thought we were in Seattle.

Normally the chances of getting rain in May, much less a downpour, are about 1,000 to 1 in LA. “So you’re tellin’ me there’s a chance? ” Yes, in fact a 100 percent chance when we have to stand outdoors for two hours. Finally we decided Thomas wouldn’t know we couldn’t see him, and dashed inside a building, huddled with hundreds of other drowned rats. Miserable.

It was time to go home. After eating dinner at “Ernie’s Taco House” with my sister and brother-in-law, we were ready to get the hell out of Burbank. We dropped off our rented Hyundai Tiburon, which for some reason only had satellite radio so we couldn’t hear how lousy L.A. radio has become ( Bruno excepted ) and vacated the premises. By the evening, it was 70 degrees and sunny again.

L.A. is probably the biggest tease in the world. Those who grew up there and still live there know better, and they look past all the phony images. The climate is wonderful, there are some nice people if you know where to look, and there’s plenty to do — but it isn’t home anymore.

Straw

May 14

You have to look far and wide to find a more gifted and more troubled athlete than Darryl Strawberry. He was blessed with other-worldly talent, but had an upbringing that at times made Oliver Twist seem like a fairy tale. He enjoyed incredible success and unbelievable heartache, much of it self-inflicted.

You get all that and more in “Straw,” his recently-published autobiography. Reading this book confirms all your worst suspicions about Strawberry, but also reveals a depth you probably didn’t know resided in his soul. You find out that although he was envied by many, you wouldn’t want to trade your life for his.

Is this book a 200-page Pity Party ? Not exactly. But it comes across as a catharsis for Strawberry, and maybe that’s one reason he wrote it: along with the fact that he could make a few extra dollars now that his career is done.

I’ll say this much: he casts a much harsher light on himself than many people would in an autobiography. I will also say he deserved that harsh light. You can’t help but feel angry as you read his story, but you do want to read on.

Much of his story is very familiar to me because I also grew up in Los Angeles. I recognize some of the schools he attended, such as Audubon Junior High, and he and best buddy Eric Davis played in the same Little League as I did, Rancho Park. He played at Crenshaw High, which was in the LA City Western League along with my school, Hamilton. I’m just glad he played a few years after me.

Strawberry’s upbringing included a brutal father and a loving mother, youthful hijinks and a badly-troubled brother, great athletic success and great self-loathing. His adulthood includes decades of Bacchanalia and pill-popping, brushes with the law, two bouts with cancer, two failed marriages, trouble with the IRS, and four World Series rings.

It’s almost a sick joke to say you could have a drinking game for every time Strawberry writes that he went into rehab, then relapsed. Every time he writes how he hit bottom and alienated his loved ones. Every time he invokes God yet continues to give in to his demons.

As you read on, you find yourself pitying him and wanting to punch him in the face — if you were big enough. You keep asking yourself “when is this guy going to get it ? ” He’s supposed to be a good family guy “deep inside,” yet he strikes his pregnant wife and even has a drug relapse while going through chemotherapy.

For someone of faith, his story is a real test. It’s a test of his faith, and yours. Do you really care enough about a fellow human being to see him beat his demons, or do you reach a point where you simply write him off ? The people closest to Strawberry were faced with that agonizing question because of his actions.

Some questions are left unanswered in the book. Although it is not strictly about baseball, I would have liked to have heard his perspective on Game Six of the crazy ’86 Series and whether he thought he cost himself the Hall of Fame. People forget, he was reaching his peak in his late 20′s when everything came crashing down, and he was never the same after age 29.

“Straw” is a journey of self-realization that is as long and painful as it gets — it’s his fault, but also to his credit. You get a picture of a guy who is still pretty full of himself as an ex-athlete but also humbled. He is, sadly, a cautionary role model for today’s young athlete, or for that matter any young person.

Not Again

May 13

If a Giants fan should ever get into trouble with the law, I have a fabulous interrogation technique I wish to pass along to the police: just make your suspect watch a game against the Padres. They’re sure to spill, lickety-split.

I have blogged it before, and I’ll blog it again: losing to the Padres is like death by fire ants. You don’t think they’re a threat until they have nipped and nipped and nipped at you, and slowly bled you to death. It is pure agony.

Today, the Giants were swept, 1-0. Jonathan Sanchez went eight innings, allowing one run and three hits, with a walk and five strikeouts. We’ve warned about this before: if Sanchez is going to be that generous, how does he expect to win games ?

Sanchez is going to have to step it up and throw another no-hitter. That would at least earn him a no-decision. Today, Mat Latos threw a one-hitter.

You could argue that Latos might have thrown a perfecto, the second this week in the Bay Area, had he been able to field a comebacker from Eli Whiteside in the 6th inning. The next batter, Matt Downs, grounded into a force play in which the second baseman threw the ball away and Downs reached second. If Whiteside is retired, Downs’ ball becomes a routine grounder for another out.

That is what passed for a Giants rally. Otherwise, Latos dominated and in fact, drove in the only run in the 5th. Once again, Sanchez lost 1-0 to the Padres. What does he get for his trouble? A pat on the back, and another scheduled meeting with Latos next week at the little Petco Shop of Horrors.

Leading out of the Giants’ broadcast into the Razor and Mr. T today on KNBR, I had five talking points. The overhead projector, please :

1) The Padres are better than the Giants. That is both stunning and obvious at the same time. On paper, it doesn’t look like it, and in time this may change, but right now they’re better. The Giants have yet to prove otherwise. They’re 0-6 against the Padres this year.

The team many picked to finish last in the NL West is in first place and doing all the little things right : timely hitting, great starting pitching and bullpen work, leading the majors in stolen bases and fielding well. Not sexy, but effective. Plus, they’ve had a little luck. Can they keep it up? Maybe not, but right now they have the National League’s best record at 22-12.

2) The Padres have gotten inside the Giants’ heads. The Giants know every game will be a grind and they’re gripping when they’re at the plate. The Giants had more errors ( three ) than hits ( one ) today. They’ve scored eight runs in six games against the Padres, while averaging five runs a game against everyone else. The Padres’ scouting report on Giants hitters is spot-on.

3) Latos is legit. Even before the season began he was touted as a possible top-of-rotation starter for the Padres, and at 22, he is beginning to fulfill that promise. So far, he’s dominated two of the weaker hitting teams in the league, the Padres and the Astros, but he has a fastball in the mid-90′s with late movement, excellent slider and good curveball.

He also busted Dave Fleming’s windshield behind the left field bleachers when he tossed a ball into the stands after batting practice this week. The ball bounced past the Coke bottle into the parking lot. Stupid. Bad enough it hit a car : what if it hit a person ? What if he blew out his arm on the thro ? Dum without the b.

4) Panda is very tired. Pablo Sandoval might be physically fatigued, mentally fatigued or he simply isn’t seeing the ball well. Or all three. The “nose to the toes” Pablo of last year is simply flailing right now, and it’s downright alarming. Whether scouting reports have figured him out, or his brain is tied up in knots, he needs a rest, and right soon.

5) The Giants offense still needs help. Granted, Mark De Rosa, Edgar Renteria and Freddy Sanchez aren’t in the lineup and Bengie Molina didn’t play today, but this lineup will still struggle to score runs. On top of that, there is no guarantee the Giants will be able to keep De Rosa, Renteria and Sanchez on the field — and no guarantee they will be 100 percent.

I’ll admit it, I backed the signing of Sanchez, but I’m having my doubts now. The Giants are becoming impatient about his comeback from shoulder surgery that happened nearly five months ago. He’s rehabbing with San Jose and has gone 3 for 6 as of this writing. He needs to come up to the big club and start producing soon.

If the Giants’ veterans can return and stay on the field, we’ll see how it goes. If not, the Giants will need to bring up Buster Posey and find a place for his bat, hoping he can light a spark under the team — or, another deal might be necessary if the Giants remain in contention. I’m not sure what that might entail – but they may be in great need of an outfield bat. ( Please, no Jermaine Dye mentions, and don’t say how much we miss Fred Lewis. )

I swear, if the Giants ever beat the Padres, there might be a pileup in the middle of the diamond.

Perfect In Any Area Code

May 11

Dallas Braden has done the most for the 209 area code since George Lucas and “American Graffiti.” It’s just a baseball game, but what Braden did Sunday was a shot in the arm for Stockton, which has only taken shots to the ribs in recent years. A true feel-good story.

I can’t help but wonder, though.

What would have happened if Braden threw a one-hitter, and the only baserunner was Evan Longoria by way of a bunt single in the 5th inning Sunday? Would that have violated a “code” in the 209 ? We already know you don’t run over a man’s mound of dirt.

Many in the crowd of 12,000 booed, but I personally don’t think there was anything wrong with Longoria’s bunt attempt. He was trying to get something going and nobody should be worrying about a no-hitter or perfect game in the 5th. Now, if Gabe Kapler tried to bunt with two outs in the top of the 9th, Braden might have done some talking with his knuckles. Warning: pick your battles — Kapler is cut in stone, a big-time body-builder.

I have a feeling he would have had some help. That’s just the way it is in baseball. The Code — and I don’t mean the 209 — is filled with silly protocols, but this one is very clear. You don’t “cheap” your way toward breaking up a no-hitter, at least not in the regular season. If Kapler swung and the ball rolled 32 feet for a single, Braden would have been frustrated out of his skull, but he would not have brained Kapler.

Braden and Kevin Kouzmanoff should be best buddies now. Kouzmanoff made several terrific plays to preserve the perfecto, including a running catch of a pop foul near the A’s dugout on the third base side. It helped that the A’s foul territory is amost as big as the 209.

Braden’s grandma Peggy Lindsey is backing off after saying “stick it, A-rod.” As is often the case, however, the first response is most honest. And let’s face it, it made her even more endearing to fans. I’m pretty sure it played well in Stockton.

Braden isn’t the most unlikely to throw a perfect game, but pretty close. He had never even thrown a complete game in the majors. However, he is not a fringe pitcher.

Braden is not overpowering but if he stays healthy should have a decent career as a middle-of-rotation guy who relies on keeping hitters off balance. Guys who master that craft stick around for a while, especially if they are left-handed. Just look at the guy in Philadelphia.

Some interesting “perfect game” facts :

There have been 17 perfect games in the so-called Modern Era, after the American League was formed. The first in that era was thrown by Cy Young of Boston in 1904. Among his victims were Socks Seybold and Ossee Schreckengost. God, I wish Harry Caray could have broadcast that game. Young outdueled fellow future HOF’er Rube Waddell.

In the 19th Century, Lee Richmond of the Worcester Ruby Legs was the first to throw one, beating the Cleveland Blues on June 12, 1880. He then donned ruby slippers. Five days later, John Montgomery Ward threw one for the Providence Grays, and then announced a 20 percent sale on 700-thread count bedsheets.

There was a 42-year gap in regular season perfect games between Charlie Robertson and Jim Bunning, and then there were three in the next five seasons. Bunning, Sandy Koufax and Jim Hunter are all Hall of Famers. Hunter was the last Oakland Athletic to accomplish the feat, before a crowd of 62-hundred at an un-tarped Coliseum.

The only person to catch two perfect games is Ron Hassey, in 1981 with Len Barker and in 1991 with Dennis Martinez. Hassey was also a member of the World Series champion 1989 Oakland A’s club. He also had a .323 postseason batting average. That’s not a bad career; catch two perfect games, get a ring, hit over .300 in the postseason. I know a lot of so-called “star players” who would make that trade.

Braden’s next home start will be either Wednesday or Thursday of next week against the Detroit Tigers. What if the A’s served $2 Perfects from Margaritaville that day ? It couldn’t be any worse than nickel beer night … could it ?

Planning The Parade Route

May 7

Nothing like a good raging controversy over the ridiculous.

That’s what we’ve had this week on KNBR’s Gary Radnich show. When the Sharks went three-up over the Red Wings and emerged as favorites to win the Stanley Cup, we started planning the victory parade in San Jose. If the Sharks blow it, you can blame us — not Ralph — for the jinx.

The question was, how many people will turn out ? The Bay Area’s largest city — celebrating its first major sports victory. The SaberCats apparently didn’t count. Anyway, this turned out to be a far more sensitive issue than I could ever imagine.

You see, San Jose has a chip on its shoulder. It is tired of playing Jan to San Francisco’s Marcia. It considers itself a major league city that has been given fringe sports, and so there is justifiable pride in the Sharks and anger about the city’s image.

Gary guessed a million people for a Stanley Cup parade, then adjusted to half-a-mill. I decided to low-ball, admittedly trying to push buttons. I started out at 30-thousand, then raised it to a more reasonable 75-thousand. I haven’t moved from there, but Gary still thinks I am on crack.

So did some emailers: you know, the keyboard John Waynes who called me a “dolt” and worse. ( Thanks a lot, Gary, for reading that email on the air. ) Funny, none of them went on the air to tell me so. Anyway, they felt I was insulting the Sharks and the city.

Quite the opposite.

I’m figuring on a couple of things: first of all, the heart of Silicon Valley is a busy place where people have to hustle, especially in this economy. They might not have time for a parade, even if they’re Sharks fans. Yes, Silicon Valley has a lot of unemployed people who DO have time, but I don’t think a large percentage will be in the mood for a parade.

On top of that, the Sharks have a rabid core of fans, plus others who are following the team, but many South Bay residents come from elsewhere and don’t really know much or care much about hockey. Yes, fans from outside the area could come in for the parade, but I seriously doubt public transit and downtown San Jose streets can accomodate even 250-thousand people.

Having said all that, 75-thousand is a hell of a lot of people. If I’m low, I don’t think it’s by much. I can definitely see local newscasts rhapsodizing about “a throng of 100-thousand people” descending on downtown for the celebration.

It’s funny how angry people get: the last I checked, the parade hasn’t happened yet, so we’re all guessing, yet they are so sure I am wrong. And they know this, how … ?

My estimate is an educated guess based on a decade of covering sports here, not just a shot in the dark. Tampa Bay had 50-thousand for its parade, while the Ducks didn’t even have one. Detroit had two-million; but comparing Detroit to San Jose is comparing lugnuts to computer chips.

If I’m wrong, believe me, I won’t be upset — because it’ll be a great party. For now, I’m standing my ground. I’m not hating. Don’t you hate, either.

Oh yeah, and the Sharks still need to win nine more playoff games.