Cynical Bunch

Giants fans are born cynical. And why shouldn't we be cynical? Disaster always looms around the corner when it comes to the Giants. Whether it's Dave Dravecky's arm exploding, Buster Posey's shattered ankle, Solomon Torres in Game 162, 89 Earthquake, Jeffrey Leonard pissing off the Cardinals, or Dusty Baker handing Russ Ortiz the game ball on the fucking mound. Disaster is always lurking.

Even with 2010 there was cynicism. Lincecum was a disaster in August of that year, we threw a fit when Sabean traded Joe Martinez and John Bowker for left-handed specialist Javier Lopez, and the Padres owned the Giants. We were cyclical until the final out of game 5.

Take last night for example. The Giants finally rolled out a lineup featuring Marco Scutaro, Melky Cabrera, Buster Posey, Pablo Sandoval, Hunter Pence, and Brandon Belt in the middle of the lineup. Not the greatest lineup in the world, but deeper than anything the Dodgers can roll out. We were cynical though. Bochy would screw with the lineup when someone struggled. Pablo would get hurt again. Belt would be sent to Siberia. We knew it was too good to be true.

And as it turned out, it was too good to be true. At Noon on Wednesday Melky Cabrera was suspended for 50 games (the rest of the season) for testing positive for Testosterone. Melky immediately admitted guilt and began serving the suspension. Too good to be true.

I sat in the office depressed the rest of the afternoon and thankfully when I arrived at the Mos Eisley Cantina everyone else was depressed as well. How could I tell by just walking into the door? The Colonel and Bandit were drinking Vodka and not eating. The drink of the depressed.

"I guess I'll also have a Vodka cranberry, Boz," I said to the bar's owner.

"Last night was too good to be true, Keith," said the Colonel looking like his dog was just killed. "Just when the Giants actually fielded a good lineup and won, this happen."

"We can't have good things Colonel," said the Bandit.

This is definitely true. The Giants can't have nice things. Can't have Dave Dravecky for the 89 World Series. Can't win over 100 games and make the playoffs. Can't have Barry Bonds win a world series. Can't even win the 2010 World Series without defending the team because everyone says they were "lucky" in the first place for winning that title.

Giants fans can't just sit back and enjoy their team. There has to be something that gives us anxiety and makes us want to curl up in the fetal position. You're born into this life as a Giants fan and you're going to die as a cynical Giants fan. It's the way of life.

"Well how much is this really going to hurt the team?" I ask trying to rationalize everything. "Belt is finally producing, Posey has been the best hitter since the All-Star break, we finally have stability at 2nd, and Pence can hit a few home runs."

I receive looks from the crew like I just ate a glass bottle. Rationalizing anything with the Giants can be a scary proposition because there will always be a rebuttal.

"Well it would be alright if Pence wasn't a hacker, Posey wasn't catching, and Bochy's distrust of Belt," snaps back The Colonel.

This is where the loss of Melky does scare me. Posey will start playing everyday and get worn down. Posey will continue starting at 1st, taking Belt's bat out of the lineup and inserting the hackerific Hector Sanchez into the lineup, and Pence is a hacker who goes hot and cold.

I could handle this suspension and impending doom if it weren't for the thought of the Dodgers competing with the Giants for first. We got to mock the Dodgers when Manny failed his drug test and now they get to mock us. I guess there is some poetic justice in there. I don't like it though.

We didn't hardly speak to each other the rest of the night at the Cantina. When you're drinking Vodka, or Tequila, you don't feel like speaking. You just want to sit there and let the cynicism flow through you.

"We can't have nice things," the Bandit continues saying in an almost catatonic state.