Kuip’s Forecast…
As I do every morning, I was listening to KNBR on the way into work the other day. Murph and Idiot were talking to Kuip (I swear to God I don’t know how Kruk and Kuip make it through an interview with those 2) and they were reeling off all of Lowe’s numbers against the Giants, in September, at ATT etc….Anyway, Kuip ends the discussion by saying “and you know how you deal with all of that? You beat ’em 1-0.” That cue’d the requisite guffaw from the 2 stooges and verbal backslaps ensued all the way around. But he nailed it, didn’t he? Not too much to say about last night. Timmy was…. no words, you guys all saw it…..
A Place To Talk About Giants Baseball 
Oh fuck me hard.
Fucccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccck………!
I thought I switched away from Titanic…
Fucking Panda!!! Wait….
TORTURE CONTINUES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And on we go…..
Shitfuckpisssuckmotherfuckercocksuckerfuck!!!! Slowest guy has to hit the around the horn . . .
Whitey woulda beat it out.
I hate life.
This aiin’t torture, this is fucking thunderdome / /
Posey sure missed his shot there. Still, Giants BP is rested, Braves’ isn’t.
Don;t matter if they dobn;t fucjking score,
I guess I missed it, Fontenot already used for 1/2 inning of D? Unbelievable…
Almond Joy has nuts, Mounds don’t…
At this rate, I’m going to run out of scotch in about 10 minutes…
Braves have one more reliever to trot out there. What the hell happened to this game. Went from easy money to a turd in the hand!!
This cannot be happening.
Fuckfuckfuck
Good night Irene.
It’s all TF’s fault, flirting with an A’s writer all night when he should be helping Bochy make decisions.
Fucking A that Ball still hasn’t Landed.What a fucked up game this as turned out to be.
Guess that’s why Ramirez wasn’t pitching the 8th.
May I say this. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!
They pull this one off, it’ll be insanity
Get him the fuck out of there.
3 Giants runners on third tonight, with one out, didn’t score.
No shortage of goats…
Ankiel has a face like a young Richard Nixon.
Rick Ankiel has seen more psychiatrists than I have. I wish him poor mental health for the rest of his life.
Can we please see that 450 more fucking times??????
They deserve to lose this game
Why does one run seem like 5?
Disgusting game
There’s hardly anybody who started and some who didn’t who doesn’t shoulder some blame ( if they fail to pull this out)..
But who cares? Susie and I are happy. Great night.
Hmmmm????
Dick Stockton is a pathetic excuse for a broadcaster. I hope his Christmas is not merry.
No shortage of Goats is right Loo.But the biggest Jackass will be Bochy in this one.
Total bullshit The only way you could question the two inning save is if Wilson gave it up in the 9th, moron.
There is no God.
Wow. What a heartbreak that is.
Fuck this.
RIght AK. Bochy couldn’t drive in runs with guys on base.
Take it to the splash, AK.
Better yet, shutt the fuck up…
RATS!!!!!
Stupid Braves… 😦
There are so many goats ;when you give up a 4 run lead, why even go through them. This thing may go down to Timmy trying to save game 4 on short rest. I hope it doesn’t. But, Mo is definitely with Braves now. This was a total clusterfuck loss…
No way this is on Bochy tonight. Players have to perform. Other than Burrell’s jack, there wasn’t anything much happening on offense.
NO way it’s on Bochy? He started Sandoval first of all. Then NO moves to get some add-on runs in. He made sure the Giants minimized their scoring, as he so often does. Then mysteriously panics with a 4-1 in the 8th, and finally goes with Ramirez instead of Casilla to lose to the No. 8 hitter.
No, I think Bochy has his share of blame. If you want to say 20% as a compromise, that’s fine
Dirrrrty has a little pressure coming up on Sunday.
Posey! Anywhere else!
All year long they’ve played well and then faltered and then come back blasting. They’ll be fine on Sunday.
I’m soooo happy for Bob Brenly, the fucking piece of shit. You will never manage this team and Sabes was right in never hiring you and your whacksock.
Mr. Brenly, you are a Cox sucker.
And Buster, anything, anything to the outfield and we win.
Sorry Matt, you did a hell of a job.
Get em Sunday.
Go Giants
Did anybody here expect this to be EZ? Hell no. And, it won’t be. Sanchee needs to bring it Sunday, and they need to fuckin’ scratch and claw to score. Stop leavin’ men on third with one out. Hudson is goin’ to be nails. Until Sunday, good night, if that’s possible….
Best closer in NL and best hitter on the team failed when we needed them. Plus bad defense, bad team hitting. Well deserved loss. It’s over…
NOW this team has good at bouncing back all year. 19-10 in September. Just have to getm tomorrow..
Or Sunday
And one more thing. No Sandoval on Sunday. Start Fontenot at third. I’ve had it with his bullshit ABs and choke artist fielding….
There’s no way Sandoval will start on Sunday.
Who the fuck are these morons asking Bochy the post-game questions?
I’m just sick to my stomach. I’m literally sick to my stomach right now. This isn’t any good. I think I’ve seen enough of the beards, too. Enough of that shit.
Oh, I just remembered. NO FUCKING ORANGE JERSEYS! WTF did I say before the game started. Won our first 9 with them, lost our last four (now five) with them. They voted for this beforehand? I told ya about me being superstitious, aren’t these goddamn ball players? Jesus H. Motherfucking Christ. It was the goddamn orange fucking jerseys. We had this shit coming. We had this shit coming. Don’t believe in superstitions and jinxes? Fuck you.
It’s the curse of the 8th inning then, Dennis . . . for whatever fucking reason . . .
Worry not, my children. Krukow? Kuiper? Which one said:
“Giants baseball. Torture.” They/he was right. But all is not lost. So it goes down to more then three games. That’s all!! That’s all that this loss means. Granted, the Giants had it in the palm of their hands and they let it…slip away. Realms are broken and Atlanta is still unspoken. Vest thee in the knowledge that Giants’ baseball…is far from over in 2010. And now…a little gothic culture to heal thy wounds
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door –
Only this, and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore –
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door –
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; –
This it is, and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door; –
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!” –
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; –
‘Tis the wind and nothing more.”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door –
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door –
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore –
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never – nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore –
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore:
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! –
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked, upstarting –
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!
Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen (question mark)
Why?
Wow- the Giants lose a game and someone’s quoting Edgar Allan Poe. We might want to ratchet down the doom-hysteria just a bit.
Well, the Giants dont generally lose a big game lest they just outright give it away. In the playoffs, they tend to lose games by doing what they don’t do all season. Tonight it was bad defense and a bad bullpen. Bochy going out of his usual routine.
And usually, they give up a big hit to a stiff and/or get shutdown by another stiff on the mound. In that sense, tonight’s game had it all. Complete giveaway, and complete stiffs are the heroes for Atlanta.
Just not surprised. That’s the sad thing
LiveFree, you left out the part where you call them retards.
When does the Game 4 starter debate begin?
because of the madness, asshole. Why not?
So we might see Fontenot, Rent, Uribe Sunday..
Anyway, as Bochy pointed out for Room Fuckwad: Wilson pitched a 1-2-3 NINTH. The 6 out save was not a problem.Pay fucking attention. Sue and I are laughing at you idiots as we speak.
FP Santangaroid is such a freeeeeeeekin tool. He said even if the Giants hung on to win tonite, he would not be comfortable with a 2 game lead heading to Atlanta. Absolutefuckin moron…