Next to troubled Dodgers, Giants a big success story
There’s a parallel dynamic to the GiantsDodgers rivalry, something that can’t be found in the standings or roster analysis. It’s a contrast of cultures, rooted in the intangibles, and San Francisco has forged an undeniable edge.
As great as the Dodgers look on paper, analytics cannot measure a clubhouse mood. There are no statistics for harmony, discord or the brands of unrest. Let’s say right off the top that the Dodgers can get past all this, take permanent residence of first place in the National League West and relegate San Francisco to the wildcard game.
Isn’t it interesting, though, how unlikely that seems?
Trevor Bauer’s stunning downfall — from eccentric genius to scorned outcast — casts a pall over the organization. If there’s anything more disconcerting to the Dodgers than the fourth extension of Bauer’s administrative leave, while an investigation continues into his alleged felony assault, it’s the idea of him actually showing up in the clubhouse. Not one teammate has spoken on his behalf, and it seems to be in everyone’s best interests if he stays away for good.
For a team destined to be called the greatest of all time — one L.A. columnist made that bold proclamation in spring training — the summertime reality is most unsettling. With the team’s bullpen in shambles, Dodger Stadium fans can’t wait to boo Kenley Jansen, manager Dave Roberts or some littleknown reliever when things go sour. Cody Bellinger was recently seen batting eighth in the lineup, his baffling slump taking on the look of permanence, at least for this season.
The trade for Max Scherzer did wonders for the rotation, but the second component of that trade with Washington, shortstop Trea Turner, could prove to be a headache for Roberts. The Giants pulled off the perfect deal to acquire Kris Bryant, who can play most any position, feels comfortable everywhere and fits beautifully into the team’s fine chemistry. Turner is a terrific player, one of the best powerandspeed stars in either league, but the Dodgers have World Series MVP Corey Seager returning from injury at that position. As Turner shifts around the infield and outfield, questions will surface about playing time for Chris Taylor, Justin Turner, A.J. Pollock and Bellinger.
“As a manager, I want all our guys to want to be in there very single day, I get that,” Roberts said this week. “But in reality, that’s not the case.”
Meanwhile, here in the land of peace and tranquility, it won’t be long before the national media takes especially keen interest in Gabe Kapler, who has navigated the critics past “fluke” and “it’s a long season” into “Damn, the Giants are good.” They’ll find it fascinating how team president Farhan Zaidi was so set on hiring his old partner from the Dodgers organization. And when they look into Kapler’s background, it won’t be so much about bodybuilding or newage phrases. It’s more about a man so willing to change.
Kapler is a seeker, the son of selfdescribed hippies who were active in the civil rights movement, spoke out against the Vietnam War, took pride in challenging authority and encouraged family communication. That led Kapler on a path of eternal discovery, some of it foolish, some of it selfabsorbed, but with a mind forever open. He has long cherished the advice of Joe Maddon (now the Angels’ manager), who once told him, “Embrace being different. Don’t try to be like everybody else because it won’t work.”
As such, Kapler does not conform. Unlike the mywayorthehighway attitude that has characterized so many managers over the years, he adjusts his philosophy, addresses his mistakes, and delegates responsibility among his many coaches. He added power and conviction to the Giants’ culture on Tuesday when he stood up so passionately for Jay Jackson, the relief pitcher who had been subjected to threats and racial slurs on Instagram after a rough outing. Kapler’s whole package is working well right now, but when you get right down to the basics, there’s no arguing with smiles.
So as we check the personnel, start with Scherzer, Mookie Betts, Max Muncy, Clayton Kershaw, Walker Buehler and Albert Pujols on one side. Picking names out of the Giants’ hat, we have LaMonte Wade Jr., Darin Ruf, Alex Dickerson, Tyler Rogers, Curt Casali and Jarlin Garcia.
Call it dead even.
Of dear friends
Swirl of emotions during a long Thursday drive: This was the first of a fourgame stint on Giants radio for Doug Greenwald, son of Hank, and what a pleasure to hear him handling the playbyplay alongside Randy Winn. The Giants generously handed him this assignment as a break from his duties in Fresno, where he has toiled in the minor leagues since 2003, and he was gifted the miraculous comeback win over Arizona — dramatically raising his voice to the moment as Wade’s clutch single tied the game. A bit later came the disheartening news from Ray Fosse, revealing his 16year fight with cancer and the need to take some time off from the A’s television booth. I’ve known Fosse since I first got on the baseball beat in 1980, and I’ve always been struck by his unrelenting kindness, humility and forthright manner, not to mention his recollections from an excellent bigleague career. Here’s to recovery for a very good man . ... We don’t hear enough about Scott Harris, the Giants’ general manager, and it was nice to hear Zaidi acknowledge Harris’ hard work throughout in the Bryant negotiations. Harris was the director of player personnel in Chicago and has known Bryant since the Cubs drafted him in 2013.
The 1980 AllStar game began around 5 p.m. in the Dodger Stadium twilight, always a maddening proposition for hitters, and the American Leaguers were fortunate that J.R. Richard only worked the first two (shutout) innings. Richard, who died this week at 71, was an imposing 6foot8 and without question one of the most feared pitchers in history. Dusty Baker, who faced him often, said there were times when Dodgers teammates faked injuries rather than face him. “There was something called J.R.itis, which was an incurable disease when you’re scared of J.R. Richard,” Baker said. “He was the toughest guy I ever faced. It was like J.R. was only throwing from about 50 feet.” Richard and Nolan Ryan were Houston teammates in 1980, and over the game’s long history, there cannot have been a superior 12 punch in terms of frightening stuff and strikeout potential.