Over the last few weeks, I’ve felt writing challenged.  I couldn’t really come up with anything all that creative and interesting.  So, the wife, my muse and editor in chief says write about something you’re passionate about.  Well, that seems logical doesn’t it?  For the entire month of October, I’ve been unable to stop speaking about the San Francisco Giants and after last night’s 3-2 win vs. the Kansas City Royals in Game 7 of the World Series, I’m downright giddy too.  My favorite team has won the World Series for the third time in five years.  Unbelievable.  It truly is.  I only wish my father in-law were alive to see it.  I’d have given anything just to see his smile in 2010, 2012, or last night when the final outs were made.

Like me, Jack was a diehard Giants fan and was never embarrassed in public to say so.  The team broke his (and mine and his daughter’s) heart in 1962, 1989, and again in 2002.  Jack would’ve really enjoyed this 5-year run.  Like him, I’ve always kept the faith that someday our team would win, but until 2010, there was always this lurking feeling deep inside – that Cubs fans must have – that perhaps the Giants were never going to win it all during his or even my lifetime.  I can just see him being so proud of that first Giants championship and feeling, like I did, that the curse was finally broken.  But, Jack died 3 years before and never saw the 2010 team.  The 2012 World Series title was over before you could  blink an eye.  The Giants dominated the Tigers.  This year was something really special because no one, I mean no one, expected the Giants to win the World Series.  Hell, we couldn’t even beat out the Dodgers to win the National League West.  The pundits and I didn’t think we’d beat Pittsburgh, but then we did and never looked back.

The difference this year was that it wasn’t about any one individual Giants player that made the difference to win the title.  When all seemed lost each game a different, unlikely, hero emerged.  Crawford.  Ishikawa.  Petit.  Panik.  Panda.  Pence.  Perez.  Morse.  Blanco.  Belt.  And, of course, Bumgarner.  Our best player, Posey, wasn’t a factor at the plate during the postseason, but he sure was behind it.  He is some kind of catcher, old school in his approach, and the best player on the team.  There were so many injuries this year that the Giants had to use 11 different players at 2nd base.  That’s crazy.  But, it also speaks to the amazing resilience of a team that was committed to winning and got hot at the right time and never quit.

While I can speak volumes about the players, I was most impressed by Bochy’s leadership.  The manager of a major league baseball team may be the 2nd most criticized human being on the planet, after the President of the United States, of course.  Everyone, I mean every, single fan of baseball, scrutinizes every decision a manager makes.  Ultimately, it is the player’s responsibility to execute but the harshest criticism ALWAYS comes to the manager.  It’s a crazy job really – win or lose your job – and yet there are none better than Bochy, a former catcher, who is a master at manipulating the lineup to get the most out of his available players.  His handling of the pitching rotation is 2nd to none.  He gives credit when credit is due and gives his players every chance in the world to succeed.  This guy is the quintessential leader of men, who play a boys (and girls with due props to Mon’e Davis) game.  He may not be THE best, but now he’s certainly one of the best managers in the history of major league baseball.  He’s an inspiration.

I still can’t believe my team, the San Francisco Giants, has won the World Series again.  This wasn’t supposed to happen but it did and I couldn’t be more thankful.  So, this might be a good time to end before I get all mushy about the Giants and my rediscovered ability to put decent sentences together.  The San Francisco Giants are the 2014 World Champions of Major League Baseball, I’ve written a new blog about it and that is no accident.