And this is why we're here

Blame it on Ryan Spilborghs.

Serious San Francisco Giants Fans is starting to get some notice, and e-mails have trickled in (don't forget the comments box to share with others). And one question seems to be a simple "Why, with all the fan blogs out there, would someone want to wade into that crowded field?"

Rage. Pure, unadulterated rage.

It started on a Late-summer night in 2009 when I was sure I'd witnessed the worst moment of my baseball life: Ryan Spilborghs's walk-off shot in Colorado that effectively destroyed the Giants playoff hopes. That game still gives me the creeps; right up there with Scott Spezio and John Roseboro on the creep-o-meter.

Print and throw darts

I wandered the house that night like Moses in the desert. A Giants fan since 1971, I thought I'd been tortured so much that nothing could possibly shake me. Heck, I'd even sat in the left field corner down in Anaheim and watched as the 2002 title slipped away on boneheaded pitching decisions (thanks, Dusty).

I needed to vent. I sat down at the computer and went on the Giants Message Board to pound out a post that expressed four decades of frustration. Fellow fans chimed in, we held our virtual pity party, and I thought that was the end of it.

Yeah, right. It seems someone from KNBR was scanning the boards that night. The next morning my post was read in its entirety on the air (scroll down to read). I missed it, but the boards certainly let me hear about it.

I was done. I hated the Giants, and that included everyone who played, coached or drew a paycheck from the team. Lou Seal and Crazy Crab both made the list.

I vowed to be finished. Of course, I said that every year only to return because that's what fans do. I was Smeagol, and I needed my precious ring

A friend had been blogging, giving himself a kind of self therapy following a tough divorce. I'd followed his catharsis and figured "Why not? If I give this thing a voice, just maybe it'll stop tormenting me."

Thus began "Ranting On", which is still archived by Google and available from the left-hand menu. I fought with it for awhile, but in December 2009 I started writing, calling upon a sports writing background I hadn't used in over a decade. It was certainly the right time to do it, and "Ranting On" caught all of the torture that ended with the Giants' first title in San Francisco.

After that, things got in the way. Work, a serious illness and fatherhood all conspired to keep me away from the computer. Now the kids are in school, my health is better, and I've retired. But with all the changes, I still bleed orange and black.

I tried other web sites, Facebook communities, etc., but most were overrun with name-calling, remarks about parentage, and someone arguing about how anyone critical wasn't a "real fan". I found that rather stupid because everyone is a real fan. If they weren't, they wouldn't take the time to comment.

So we're back, this time with the idea that a troll-free zone can exist and people who really want informed discussion can get together, disagree, and still believe that Giants Baseball is something to be cherished no matter how much they torture us. You can find us here, and also follow on Facebook and Twitter. Feel free to sign in, follow, comment, whatever. Keep the conversation flowing.

And one more thing: Let's Go Giants!

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And now, the rant that started it all:

After Spilbourghs’ shot left the yard last night, my wife came out of the bedroom (where she’d been awakened by my expletive-laden tirade) to see if I was still alive. That’s how it is to be a Giants fan – someone peeks around the corner thinking, “I hope he’s still breathing. I think the Giants might have just killed him.”

It’s over.  After 14 innings and a four-game debacle where the Giants HAD to perform but failed miserably, the 2009 season is dead. There may be 37 games left, but this season is over. After 39-years following this Godforsaken franchise, I know season-ending loss when I see one.

The Giants won’t catch Colorado for a simple reason -- the Rockies are better. In every phase of the game -- pitching, offense, defense, management, player acquisition – the Giants are the Rockies’ bee-yotch. Everything the Giants pay lip service to becoming, the Rockies are. That’s par for the course. The Giants talk a good game. The competition plays a good game.

So it happened again. Nothing can be as bad as Game Six in 2002, but this was close. If the Giants were a girl, you’d break up with her. You’d explain that you couldn’t take it any more and then either sleep with her sister or swear off women altogether.

There are thousands like me. We buy tickets, pay for satellite packages, wear the hats and jerseys, pony up for soggy garlic fries and overpriced beer. This is our reward -- yet another season of heartbreak.

I can’t emphasize this enough: I will die wondering why Bruce Bochy felt the need to let Justin Miller wilt to death last night (taking the season with him), why Fred Lewis continues to get at-bats in critical situations, why Brian Sabean overpays for stiffs like Aaron Rowand and Bobby Howry while pronouncing the team sound, or believes mediocre players like Ryan Garko are the secret to success. It boggles the mind. To have that game, and that series, get away in the manner it did was indefensible at best and catastrophically moronic at its worst. By the time Spilborghs came to the plate, that home run wasn’t just inevitable, it was preordained.

The demise of the 2009 Giants is simple to explain. They fell short because at every level – from the front office to the team on the field – they’re overmatched. This franchise is run by people who would hit a 19 at the blackjack table because they “had a feeling”.

As for me, I feel like Andrew Golata just spent the weekend raining down blows to my protective cup. This excruciating series devoured 90 percent of the residual emotion I had left in my body. It was like seeing the ghost of 2002 appear. When Miller came into the game I KNEW the Giants were going to lose. Any reasonable Giants fan could recognize the depressing signs because we’ve been there before. Like Haley Joel Osment in “The Sixth Sense”, we know dead seasons when we see them.

Does any of this make sense? Of course not. I’m completely insane. The Giants have driven me insane – it’s official.

What makes it worse is that I have twin sons, one named McCovey no less, whom I planned to raise as Giants fans. Now I have to wonder, am I doing the right thing? I’m coming to grips with the fact that the Giants are now the pre-2004 Boston of the West Coast. There are people like myself WHO WILL DIE never having seen their team win it all. What am I setting my kids up for? Is it time to start buying them Angels gear?

There has to be accountability in the front office. The Giants have about eight players who are worth salvaging, and nobody on the coaching staff needs to return. If there aren’t wholesale changes at EVERY level, this franchise is eternally doomed.

The parallels between the Giants and the cursed Red Sox are many. Sabean is Dan Duquette. Bochy is channeling Grady Little. We’ve always got a Miller or Tim Worrell, or John Bowker or Howry to play the Bob Stanley role. And we have plenty of long-suffering fans who know we’re totally screwed. It’s like being stuck in a bad marriage. You can’t get out --- ever. If Bill Neukom can’t step into the John Henry shoes and clean house, the Red Sox curse will look like a walk in the park compared to what Giants fans will endure.

I’ve followed the Giants religiously since 1971. Every year ends with a punch in the stomach. I’ve finally reached the breaking point. If these same guys (including Sabean and Bochy) are back in 2010, I won’t be. Enough.

Sometimes you just have to look out for yourself.