Thank you, #75.

Earlier this week, the San Francisco Giants quietly placed Barry Zito (LHP) on waivers. Quietly, Zito cleared waivers and is now available to be traded. Barry Zito’s career in San Francisco, and possibly his career period, is quietly coming to a close.

Thank you, Barry Zito.

No, seriously, hear me out. Barry Zito, the left-handed pitcher who was a 3 time All-Star, the 2002 AL Cy Young Award winner and had an average ERA of 3.49 in his 7 years as an Oakland Athletic. Barry Zito who then signed a 7 year, $126 million, deal with his once Bay Bridge rivals, making him the highest paid major league pitcher at the time. In his 6 full seasons with the Giants since signing that monster contract, Barry Zito is a zero time All-Star, a zero time Cy Young Award Winner and boasts an average ERA of 4.65. Barry Zito and San Francisco Giants fans- the very definition of a love/hate relationship. Let’s be honest, the emphasis has most certainly been on the hate.

We all know the storyline and how it played out. The Giants, in 2007 when Zito joined the team, were 5 years removed from completely blowing it in the World Series against the Angels (no, I still don’t want to talk about it), 4 years removed from their last playoff appearance, and were desperately searching for some star power (ok, a lot of star power) to replace the other Barry’s, who’s power had been reduced to a sad “pow” at that point. With Bonds’ career all but over, the Giants’ brass- ahem, Peter Magowan- decided that Zito was the answer, the second coming of the Barry, if you will, and put all of its eggs, pennies, pebbles, marbles, and anything else that they could find, into his basket. To say that actuality fell short of expectations and hope would be a gross understatement, but we all already know that. What we don’t know, or perhaps fail to realize or appreciate, is that Barry Zito maneuvered his way through the last 7 tumultuous seasons with absolute grace.

Not once did he speak badly about his coaches or teammates. When the team made that all but impossible late season run in 2010, winning 20 of their last 40 games, to make the playoffs, Zito was left off of the post season roster. Left off the roster! I urge you to take a look at the tape from the end of each of the games that postseason and pay special attention to the first person out of the dugout and on to the field to congratulate and celebrate.

Not once did Zito complain about the way he was treated by the city and the fans. We heckled him, we booed him, we jeered him, we did just about everything short of spitting in his face and threatening his family- and you know I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that did in fact happen. The night Jonathan Sanchez threw a no-no against the Padres, I was on my way out to celebrate with the rest of the city and happened to walk passed a liquor store on Chestnut, the same liquor store that Barry Zito happened to be stocking up on supplies for his own post-game activities. Just as I walked passed, a model Giants fan walked in and screamed “Barry Zito that is the closest you’ll EVER get to a no hitter.” I stopped in my tracks, cringed, and waited. You know what Zito did? He looked at that jackass, smiled, and said “Go Giants”.

He has embraced his community and used his platform and celebrity for good. In 2005, he founded Strikeouts for Troops (http://strikeoutsfortroops.org/), an organization that supports injured military members and their families, and provides the comforts of home to military families as their loved ones fight to keep us comfortable and safe. An organization that now has the support of over 100 players and managers, giving back to those who give their all for all of us. Equally as impactful, a friend and I happened into All Star Donuts on Chestnut Street one evening (morning?) sometime past midnight (never you mind why we might have been at a donut shop so late). Z and his fiancé, now wife, were at the counter in front of us. When the cashier recognized him, she turned around, grabbed a bunch of baseballs and asked him to sign them. Without skipping a beat, he took the pen and the first ball and began signing, stopping only to turn around to apologize to us for the holdup.

Thank you, #75. Thank you for being a model teammate and a gentleman. Thank you for embracing us even when no one would have blamed you had you fired right back at all of it. I am sorry it has taken us so long to appreciate you, but thank you for being one of the best guys to wear this uniform. And, especially, thank you for Game 4 of the 2012 NLDS and Game 5 of the 2012 NLCS.

C

Life Without Brian

Earlier this week, ESPN reported that Romeo emancipated himself from the Montegues and that the Capulets adopted him and became his legal guardians. Wait, no, that’s just what it felt like when ESPN reported that Brian Wilson (RHP) accepted and signed a minor league deal with the Los Angeles Dodgers. Brian Wilson, a Dodger. Sigh. I’m not hurt, I’m just disappointed.

Brian Wilson was more than just our closer.

On the field, he was a homegrown talent, drafted by the Giants in the 24^th round of the 2003 amateur baseball draft. He was the guy who we called on time after time, via Bruce Bochy, at the end of the game to close it out for us and save the W. He often made that 9^th inning far too exciting, and far too dramatic, than was ever necessary, but more often than not he got the job done in a way that only he could. When the show was over, he’d turn around and pay tribute to his father, while the rest of us paid our own tribute to him and the rest of our boys.

Off the field, he was the guy who would roll up to the Starbucks on Chestnut in his blacked out Mercedes, wearing an outfit that could only be described as part army surplus, part Zac Brown, and would sit outside shooting the breeze with the other locals. Solving all of the world’s problems, no doubt. Wilson was the face of the “torture”, the lead “misfit”, the bearded eccentricity that didn’t make sense to anyone outside of San Francisco, but somehow fit perfectly in the City by the Bay. Torturous saves, the most entertaining media interviews ever, coined phrases, fake beards, a spandex tuxedo, “Fear the Beard” t-shirts, and the first World Series Championship, ever, in San Francisco. BWilly was our guy- and then he wasn’t.

The stints on the DL began soon after that glorious, glorious 2010 season. Short, at first, and then longer and longer, until, a year later, it was finally concluded that Willy needed his second career Tommy John surgery. Out for the season, out for the remainder of his contract. When the time came, the Giants offered Wilson an incentive filled contract to stay with the team. Fresh off of 2 seasons in which he didn’t pitch more than a couple consecutive games, and of having his arm completely reconstructed, for the second time, Brian deemed the contract “insulting”. He was offended that the organization would offer him such a low base and incentive payments based on playing time after all that he had done for the team. Apparently, Brian had already forgotten about the previous two seasons in which he had essentially been paid for being the team mascot. Forgotten that the team drafted him after his first Tommy John surgery, stuck with him through his struggles in the minor leagues, and through his various oblique and arm injuries in the following years. Forgotten that the team had just brought home its second Commissioner’s Trophy in three years, this time without him. Robb Nen thanked the organization for showing him the same loyalty he had shown them, Brian Wilson announced that he wanted to become a Dodger.

Purposeful message received, #38. I suppose not everyone can be the great Kirby Puckett. Say hey to Jason Schmidt and Juan Uribe for us. I hope you enjoy L.A. as much as they have. I hope the city and the fans show you as much love and pride in who you are both on and off the field as we did. No, I hope they show you more. Because, you can’t come home again.

Too much awesome?? Please. Not nearly enough.

C