Much has been made of Manny Ramirez's suspension for using performance-enhancing drugs, and rightfully so. When one of Major League Baseball's most prominent stars embroils himself in the game's biggest scandal, it figures to get a lot of run in the media.
If you listen closely to the static, somewhere in all the volume are whispers about how the revelation benefits no team more than our beloved San Francisco Giants—about how the 50-game hiatus for Manny has saved the Orange and Black season.
To a degree, the whispers are appropriate.
The Bay Area's favorite franchise has assembled a supremely flawed unit for the 2009 campaign. If the Gents were a sprinter in training, the pitching staff would be the legs and the hitters would be the damn parachute creating drag.
The arms are the two steps forward, and the bats are the one step back (maybe even one-and-a-half). So the division leader losing its best hitter for a third of the season helps.
Not only that, San Francisco was in second place and the only National League West team hoping to remain viable while the Los Angeles Dodgers cum Man-Ram were threatening to run away and hide with the division title. Early on, it looked like a full-strength LA nine would win the flag in a laugher.
But that was early.
The Giants are a very young team that figured to see its share of growing pains, especially on offense. All along, the plan for '09 was to use the starting rotation and bullpen as the rudder to steady the ship while the bats thrashed from side to side—trying to find a good groove, then some consistency, and finally a little momentum.
The plan was never to jump on the division and keep it under cleat for the entire year.
Although the national impression may have been different, there was no sense of panic from the Giant faithful when we looked up at the division standings on Wednesday, May 6. The healthy gulf opening up between our guys and the Bums was almost to be expected.
Let's be clear about something else—the Dodgers had gotten off to a historically hot start while the Giants were making eyes at the other end of the spectrum.
That Wednesday before the suspension broke, LA boasted a record of 21-8 while SF limped in at 13-13—five games back in the loss column (the important part) and 6.5 games back overall. Sure, the games back is the sexy number, but the much more significant one is 29 (or 26).
You know, as in the Bums had played 29 of 162 games when Manny removed himself from the equation for a spell. Forgive me if I smirk and roll my eyes when I hear how Manny's absence "saved" San Francisco's season.
Since when has the first fifth of a baseball season been probative of the remaining 80 percent? No doubt, things were not looking good in early May—that, as they say, is why the other 130-plus games are played.
The Dodgers weren't going to stay historically hot all year, and the Giants weren't going to struggle for the remainder as badly as they did out of the gates. LA simply doesn't have the pitching to win over two-thirds of its games, and, conversely, SF has too much pitching to suffer through a season of 2-7 stretches.
Even with Manny Ramirez, the San Francisco Giants pose significant problems for the Los Angeles Dodgers.
On the contrary, I'd kill any shred of credibility I still have if I were to contest the other half of the whispers. There is no doubt San Francisco gets the biggest boost from the latest case of monumental stupidity and greed.
The other clubs in MLB have their own divisions to navigate, and the rest of the NL West is in shambles.
Although the San Diego Padres teased their diehards to start the season, reality hit a while back, and it's been dragging them to the depths of the division ever since.
The SD bullpen continues to show you can make a silk purse from a sow's ear—further proof Antonin Scalia is a national embarrassment and can't even get that right. Unfortunately, the 'pen is the only part working well—the bats have lapsed into an expected coma, and the pitching hasn't answered the bell with both Jake Peavy and Chris Young struggling (although Peavy's showing signs of coming around).
The Colorado Rockies miss Matt Holliday as most in baseball knew they would. The surprise has been how much of a void Brian Fuentes' departure left. Manny Corpas has been a disaster, and Huston Street is like the closer equivalent of a fawn learning to walk.
The Arizona Diamondbacks are a collective horror scene. There is gory carnage everywhere you look: one of the worst records in baseball, no pitching, no hitting, no bullpen, and a new coach (as in new to the coaching profession).
Nah, the other players in the division have too much trouble on the home front to worry about Manny and the Dodgers. The "it's still early" maxim applies to them as well, but their problems run much deeper than those of the Giants. Consequently, the words don't offer as much hope or solace.
Those other three teams must cobble together a respectable squad before they can worry about making up ground on the division leader. Only San Francisco is already in a position to take advantage.
The question is, can the Giants do so, and to what extent?
Since the penalty triggered, both clubs have basically played .500 ball—LA is 5-5 while SF is 6-5. The Bums have dropped over 200 points off the pre-suspension winning percentage, while SF has tread water.
That's not good enough.
If San Fran is sincere about contending for the NL West flag, they MUST take advantage of the next 40 games and emerge no worse than a game or so behind the Dodgers.
If LA can weather Ramirez's absence without surrendering much ground in the pennant chase, there will be no catching them once he returns. They'll have far too much confidence before getting a boost in that department from another big bat in the lineup.
That means SF must pick it up—and they can.
The starting pitching won't be the issue. Tim Lincecum and Matt Cain are twirling like the aces Giants fans thought we had. Barry Zito has experienced a mini-renaissance despite the lack of wins, and Randy Johnson is about what the fans thought we were getting—some brilliant days, some the exact opposite.
Only Jonathan Sanchez has been a serious disappointment—managing only one quality start (a meaningless stat unless you LACK them) in eight tries. But he's the fifth starter at this point, so it's not a glaring weakness, especially because SF has options if the situation gets out of hand.
The real work must be done by the splinters and, to a lesser and somewhat shocking degree, the bullpen.
Yep, the 'pen.
The relievers haven't been bad, and they've been a huge improvement over last year's version simply because they aren't blowing games with the same regularity or in the same agonizing fashion. However, we've started to see some cracks in what was supposed to be a newly refurbished strength.
Brian Wilson has blown several brutal leads and has been his customary can of kerosene in non-save opportunities. Bobby Howry's been better than his numbers indicate, but he too has had a little trouble protecting tenuous leads. Finally, the search for another shutdown arm to keep Sergio Romo's spot warm has yielded some inconsistent fruit in Merkin Valdez and Osiris Matos.
Both guys bring serious cheddar without a serious idea of where it's going.
Fortunately, Jeremy Affeldt has been even better than advertised, and Brandon Medders has been a very pleasant surprise.
In order for San Francisco to maximize their chances, the firemen must shore up those little leaks. It shouldn't be a problem since there's no indication the recent trouble is anything more than your typical run of off days.
The much bigger issue is what to do about the bats.
The scary thing is the offense has been such a problem despite Pablo Sandoval essentially hitting to ridiculous expectations in his first full go-around (.314 average, three HRs, 16 runs, 17 RBI, 12 doubles) and Bengie Molina exceeding his (.304, eight HRs, 18 runs, 30 RBI). Both are free swingers, so the strikeouts are high (20 and 17 respectively), but their job is to drive in runs, so ignore the whiffs.
Even worse, Freddie Lewis has been getting on base and hitting for good average (.391 OBP, .294 average), and Edgar Renteria has been getting some big hits while raising his average to more respectable levels (around .260).
The culprits have been the rest of the "hitters."
In order for the Gigantes to really push the Dodgers in Manny's absence, they're going to have to start getting the standard .300 contribution from Randy Winn, instead of his current .255 clip.
They're gonna need Aaron Rowand to play the role of reliable vet instead of a .248 hitter who turned one anomaly year into a middle-of-the-order paycheck. They're gonna need Emmanuel Burriss to continue getting on base and running like he's been doing of late.
As for Travis Ishikawa, it'd be nice to get some offense from him.
Truth be told, though, I'm content having him save a couple runs per game with his defense at first. The formula worked with J.T. Snow (granted, J.T. played alongside the offense of Barry Lamar Bonds), and it will work with Ishikawa if SF can just squeeze some more offense out of the rest of the diamond.
Obviously, the chances of everyone delivering on the above requests are nil.
But San Francisco doesn't need it ALL to happen. The division is weak, the Giants' staff is strong, and the Dodgers are down their best player. If only two or three contribute alongside Big Money and Little Panda, the gap would start to close.
If everyone starts feeding off each other and chipping in, the gap might just disappear.
It says here the San Francisco Giants can catch the Los Angeles Dodgers minus Manny Ramirez—after all, the plan was to compete with the Bums at full strength.
With a little timely hitting to complement the development of the youngsters, I believe they will.
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