End of the Regular Season

FINAL NATIONAL LEAGUE WEST STANDINGS            

                  W L GB
Los Angeles 93 69 Defending champs face tough road
San Diego 90 72 3 Off to Chicago for wild-card series
GIANTS         81 81 12 Hot start, cold middle, tepid finish
Arizona         80 82 13 Lots of injuries wrecked their year
Colorado        43    119 50 Can't anybody here play this game?

  

Two days after the Giants' season ended in disappointing fashion for the fourth straight year, Buster Posey fired Bob Melvin as manager.  His successor is unknown at this time, but the Giants' new GM has sent a clear signal that the win-one lose-one on-again off-again play that has characterized this team since the epochal 2021 campaign-- Posey's last as a player-- has to stop, and no one is so valuable as to be immune from the consequences. 

Melvin is a fine baseball manager, and no one who knows the game disputes it. But this year's bewildering mid-season tumble from a tie for first place down to fourth place in one month, and then, on top of that, a 2-8 September nosedive after getting back into the race-- well, that required drastic action. It was all too reminiscent of Gabe Kapler's 2022 and 2023 el foldo finishes, and that's a place no Giants player, manager, fan, or GM wants to revisit. 

Posey himself may have made an unwise visit to Panic Beach in late July when, on the day the Giants completed a 13-26 collapse, he traded away the team's best reliever, Tyler Rogers, along with the shaky Camilo Doval, for prospects. The prospects are good-- former Tennessee Vol Drew Gilbert is a player, and he's fun to watch-- but it sure looked like a punt, if not a surrender. Posey, of course, could not have known that in short order his two best remaining relievers-- Randy Rodriguez and Erik Miller- would both be lost for the season with injuries. Almost overnight the Giants' bullpen went from one of the league's best to one of its worst.

The single most important statistic of the Giants' 2025 season, indicating where it all went so wrong, is this: following the Rafael Devers trade on June 15, the Giants blew ten games where they held the lead in the late innings. Ten games.  Had they held on to just half of them, they'd be in the playoffs today-- and Bob Melvin would still have a job. 

We haven't checked, but 2025 may be the first Giants season in which we didn't make a single update on this blog between Opening Day and the end of the campaign. It was close, though. On Saturday, September 13, with 15 games remaining in the season, we were about to start a Pennant Race update. The Giants had just beaten the Dodgers on a walk-off tenth-inning homer by Patrick Bailey, and that looked for all the world like the kind of win that could propel a team to smoke the opposition, whoever they might be, down the stretch and on into October. They'd completed a 13-4 run at that moment to vault back into wild-card contention, and the New York Mets were mired in a horrific slump and only a game or two ahead. 

 

"Let's see how the weekend plays out," we decided. 

Logan Webb was shelled on Saturday. Robbie Ray was shelled on Sunday. Seven losses in eight games later, the Giants were done, and, as it turned out, so was Bob Melvin.

As we all remember, the Giants broke out of the gate with a bang, winning eight of their first nine games. It was no mirage; they scored 49 runs and allowed only 30 during that stretch, a .700 pace.  They settled down then, as good teams do, maintaining their win-loss margin through the first 60 games. At 33-28 on June 3, they then reeled off seven straight wins and another 8 of 9 to tie the Dodgers for first place in the division on the 13th. A midseason surge like that is also is the kind of thing winning teams do, and at that moment the Giants sure looked the part. Two days later came the Devers trade, and then that dreadful two-month stretch which featured two four-game losing streaks, two six-game losing streaks, and one seven-game losing streak. At the end of it, in late August, they were seven games to the bad. There was still enough time to overcome it-- but by then it was becoming clear this team didn't have what it takes to pull it off. 

The Giants scored 705 runs on the season, tenth in the league, and allowed 684, eighth. Every NL playoff team allowed fewer runs; of those, only the Padres scored fewer. San Francisco's expected record of 83-79 was identical to that of the Cincinnati Reds, who beat out the Mets for the third wild-card spot (and who have already been eliminated in two games by the Dodgers).  The Reds, though, also underperformed their expected record by two games.  Thus the Giants landed right where they deserved to land.

By a favorite measure, Wins Above Average by Position (itself based on the WAR formulae), the Giants come in at 80-82 instead of 81-81, well within the margin of error but certainly unimpressive. They're sixth in overall pitching WAA, with the early-season lights-out success of their bullpen holding them up; the starting rotation is slightly below average. They're slightly below average as well across all batting and fielding positions; Matt Chapman is again tops at third base, Willy Adames is well above average at short, and they're below average everywhere else. Weakest spot? The entire outfield, slightly below the mark at each spot, and two wins below average overall. 

At a glance the Giants' lineup looks pretty good. Chapman, Devers, and Adames form a solid heart-of-the-order. Jung Hoo Lee is fast, as is Heliot Ramos; both have the physical skills to be leadoff men, but OBPs of .327 and .328 are nowhere near what the leadoff spot demands. And over the season the leadoff spot produced a .304. 'Nuff said. Outside the big three, only Dominic Smith, in 204 ABs, has a decent OBP.  He's also the only Giant to hit above .270. It's not that the Giants don't draw walks-- they're fifth in the league-- but their team batting average is 14th in the league at .235, ahead of only the last-place Pirates.  

The Giants' best pitcher down the stretch was Justin Verlander, who spent the first two-thirds of the year as the losingest pitcher in baseball. Despite his 4-11 mark (team record 10-19) he posted a 3.85 ERA (NL average 4.22) and a composite Game Score of 51. The Giants scored only 3.9 runs per game for him, half a run less than anyone else, but it was worse than that; many of those runs were scored after the future Hall of Famer had left the game. Over the last third of the season he posted 10 quality starts in 13 games including marks of 81, 72, and 72.  It seems unlikely Verlander, who wants to pitch in 2026, will come back, even though run support tends to fluctuate from year to year. Who could blame him? 

Robbie Ray's first half was so good that he was an easy choice for the All-Star Game, but over his last six starts only one was up to his standard. That definitely hurt. Logan Webb again emerged as the ace; he led the league in innings pitched, starts, batters faced, and strikeouts with 224. Overall the Giants used 14 starters in 2025; young Landon Roupp was the best of the rest but battled injuries all year long and made only 22 starts. Nobody else did much, although rookie Trevor McDonald made two fine starts in the season's final weeks. We've seen that before, many times, and we'll withhold judgment for now.  As for the bullpen, absent the traded Rogers and the injured Rodriguez and Miller, we've nothing to say. 

The Giants need to add at least one proven starter, and they need a bullpen overhaul. They need to add at least one solid every-day outfielder, and perhaps two, although both Lee and Ramos probably did just enough to hold their spots for another year. On the positive side, they have an excellent infield, a great defensive catcher, a strong bench, one legitimate starting ace, possibly another if they don't trade Ray, and a couple of young starters. They aren't that far away, but they aren't that close, either.    

And then there's this: when we review the top 20 Giants this year as measured by WAR, we see a total of 7 WAR, the equivalent of one MVP-quality player, was either traded away or lost to injury. 

The Giants were 22-10 in Ray's starts, 18-16 with Webb, 10-19 with Verlander, and 12-10 with Landon Roupp.  Quality starts: Webb 24, Ray 22, Verlander 17, Roupp 11.  They scored 4.8 runs per game for Ray, 4.4 for both Webb and Roupp, and 3.9 for Verlander. Rookie Carson Whisenhunt received 6.8 runs per game in his five starts; he went 2-3, but they did score 12 runs for him twice.

Best start of the year was by Verlander on August 16 at home against Tampa: 7 IP, 2H, 0BB, 8K, Game Score 81. And true to form, the bullpen blew that game, a 2-1 loss in the middle of that dreadful midsummer meltdown.  The worst start was by rookie Kai-Wei Teng just three days earlier against San Diego. He didn't get out of the second inning, surrendering seven runs, six earned, on four hits and four walks for a Game Score of 17.  The best start by an opposing pitcher was Brandon Pfaadt at Arizona on September 17: a complete-game one-hitter with 7 K, Game Score 91, beating Verlander, who put up a 72 himself. It was a real pitchers' duel, rare these days.  The worst start was a meltdown by Baltimore's Dean Kremer on August 29: three innings, allowing seven runs, all earned, on nine hits and two walks. Game Score: 21. This was an Oracle Park slugfest, thankfully won by the Giants 13-8 on a day where Robbie Ray didn't last much longer than Kremer. 

Willy Adames is the first San Francisco Giant to reach 30 home runs in a season since Barry Bonds hit 45 in 2004.  And Rafael Devers tied a bizarre major-league record by playing in 163 games in 2025. 

Only four Giants-- Devers, Adames, Ramos, and Lee-- had enough at-bats to qualify for the batting title. Adames' 30 homers are good enough for 29th in this homer-saturated game. Rafael Devers hit 35, tied for 12th, 15 with Boston and 20 with the Giants.  He also drew 109 walks, third in MLB, scored 99 runs (13th), drove in 109 (9th), and hit 33 doubles (22nd). In case any of you all are still wondering, yes, he is the real deal, one of the best pure hitters in baseball. His OPS was .851, tied for 16th.  As for Lee, his 12 triples, third in MLB, are two short of Angel Pagan's franchise record set in 2012. Those 12 triples, plus 31 doubles, boost his SLG to .407, which is very good for a .266 hitter who doesn't hit home runs.  Those of you who were hoping Ramos would improve on his rookie year shouldn't exactly be disappointed; his 21 homers and 85 runs are good, if not among the league leaders. His baserunning exploits are, unfortunately, well-known; he stole six bases but was caught four times, which is a lot worse than simply staying put. 

Webb led the league in strikeouts, as we mentioned above, though AL'ers Garrett Crochet and Tarik Skubal (we spent all of 2024 thinking his name was "Tank") had more. Webb's 3.22 ERA is 16th in MLB, Ray is 23rd with a 3.65, way down from his first-half numbers.  His 1.22 WHIP ranks 24th; Webb is 30th at 1.24. Ryan Walker's 17 saves are 24th in MLB. He also blew seven saves. The dear departed Camilo Doval had 16-- fifteen for the Giants and one (1) with the Yankees. 

Who won the Devers trade? Well, the simple answer for 2025 has to be "Boston." They made the playoffs and the Giants didn't. At the time of the trade, the Sox were on a downward spiral with fans threatening to mutiny; the Giants were tied for first place and had just beaten LA.  As soon as the trade was completed, it seems, the teams promptly took off in opposite directions. Nobody is really stupid enough to believe the Sox won and the Giants lost because of Devers; but we can't say the trade has hurt Boston in the short term, either, especially if they beat the Yankees in this wild-card series and go deep into the playoffs. We can say the guys the Giants sent to them, Kyle Harrison and Jordan Hicks, have had little to do with the Red Sox' late success. 

Roll the Statistical Parade

Teams on average allow about 50 or 60 unearned runs per year. The Giants this year were near the top of the list with 75. Boston led all contending teams with 80, and worst overall were, as you might expect, the woeful Rockies, who allowed 89 unearned out of a staggering total of 1021. Best of the bunch were the Atlanta Braves, who allowed only 38-- but their pitchers kept themselves busy allowing earned runs, 696 total, more than the White Sox and 22nd among the 30 teams. 

There's little doubt that the Phillies' Cristopher Sanchez will win the NL Cy Young Award. BBRef has him with 8 WAR, better than anyone in the game not named Aaron Judge. Whether or not Judge wins another MVP depends on the voters' affection for Seattle's amazing catcher Cal Raleigh. The young man hit sixty (60!) home runs, the first catcher ever to do so, and his team won the division in impressive manner, dethroning the perennial Houston Astros, who faded down the stretch not unlike the Giants and missed the postseason entirely for the first time since 2016.  

Sanchez is only 24; Raleigh is 28, and he's put up some good seasons with the bat before, but nothing like this: 110 runs scored, 125 RBI to lead the league, 97 walks and a .948 OPS to go with the 60 homers, all while catching 121 games (he did DH 38 times, but still). 

Is it time for Juan Soto to win the MVP? Though he didn't walk more times than he struck out this year, for a change, there's still 120 runs, 110 RBI, 43 homers, a league-leading 38 steals with only 4 CS,  and of course 127 walks. His team stumbled down the stretch and lost a "gimme" wild-card spot, and while it's hardly his fault, we may be looking at another top-5 finish without the trophy. And though Kyle Schwarber is, we believe, as valuable as any hitter in the game (56 homers, 111 runs, league-leading 132 RBI and a .928 OPS, second only to Shohei Ohtani), he's never finished higher than 15th in the vote despite some monster seasons. It's just unlikely the voters will ever honor a DH.

Ohtani has already won three MVPs, two in the AL and last year in the NL, and he'll be encroaching into Barry Bonds territory if he wins his fourth this year. He'd be the first to win it twice in both leagues. It kinda seems inevitable, don't it?  He's the starting pitcher for tonight's division series opener at Philadelphia, and while the MVP votes are already in, that again underscores how phenomenally unique he is. 

Speaking of repeat winners, is there any real competition for Tarik Skubal in the AL Cy Young sweepstakes? A 2.21 ERA, 0.89 WHIP, 241 K, and his team is in the playoffs. But real competition there is, with Max (19-5) Fried, Garrett (18-6 ) Crochet, and our old buddy Carlos Rodon (18-9). All of them have ERA under 3.10 and all pitch for playoff qualifiers.

Speaking of old buddies, former Giant Zack Littell had a nice season for himself in Cincinnati, part of a good starting rotation which includes lefties Andrew Abbott and Nick Lodolo, both of whom we saw three years ago at the GABP, and Hunter Greene. Yes, they got lit up pretty well in the wild-card series against LA, but it still looks like a good young group going forward; the above three are all 27 or younger (Littell is 29). And we'll see "old buddy" Kevin Gausman starting tomorrow's series opener for the Blue Jays in Toronto against the Yankees. Gausman didn't have a "Cy Young"-type season in 2025, but he was and is an ace starter, and he has a tremendous lineup behind him-- almost as good as the one he'll be facing. 

Is Texas outfielder Adolis Garcia the worst every-day hitter in the major leagues? Combine a .227 average with 28 walks in 507 AB and you get a .271 OBP. He has a little power (19 HR) and usually bats fourth, though it's hard to see why. Among qualifiers, White Sox second baseman Lenyn Sosa drew the fewest walks (18 in 518 AB) and struck out 127 times (though he did hit .264, which nudged his OPB "up" to .294). On the other side of the coin we have a couple of Blue Jays: Vlad Guerrero junior (81 BB, 94 K) and catcher Alejandro Kirk (48 and 59). Then there's Jose Ramirez, whom we never get tired of praising, and who once again is out of the playoffs too early: 66 BB, 74 K, .863 OPS, 30 homers, 103 runs, 85 RBI, 44 steals with only 7 caught. At 33 years old, is there anything this guy can't do well, and will he ever win a MVP award? 

And whither Mike Trout? The once-surefire Hall of Famer is also 33, and coming off a season which can only be called weak for him, though pretty good for most guys: 130 games .797 OPs, 26 long balls to bring his career total up to 404, and 1.5 WAR. He hasn't scored or driven in 100 runs in a season since 2019, and while he played in 130 games this year, also his best total since 2019, 106 of those games were as DH. We don't believe there ever has been a three-time MVP who isn't in the Hall of Fame, but to see this one-time All-World center fielder reduced to DH duty, with middling DH numbers, in the midst of a six-year decline is troubling and disappointing for one of the game's Really Good Guys.  

If Seattle goes deep in the playoffs, expect to see Randy Arozarena get hit by a pitch. He led all of baseball with 27 plunks this year, about one every 26 at-bats, almost twice as many as anyone else. The well-traveled Charlie Morton, with Detroit, hit 14 batters, more than any other postseason pitcher, so keep your eyes on those two in the upcoming division series. 

The modern game tends to depress enjoyable outliers in the statistics, so there's not much oddball stuff to report. Seranthony Dominguez of the Blue Jays was one of three pitchers to uncork 12 wild pitches this year; presumably Aaron Boone has taken notice.  Nobody balked more than three times this year, and nobody hit more than nine sac flies or dropped more than 7 sac bunts. Cal Raleigh, to no one's surprise, has the lowest groundball-to-flyball ratio of any qualifying batter this year; his opposite number is Tampa Bay's Yandy Diaz, who puts 60% of 'em on the ground. A Tampa teammate, Junior Caminero, grounded into 31 double plays this year, leaving his closest competitor, the wonderful Jose Altuve, in the dust. Caminero, though, hits as many in the air as he does on the ground, but perhaps not as often with men on base.  

The list of the ground-ball-centric pitchers is short: the Angels' Luis Soriano (2.79 to 1!), Houston's Framber Valdez, the Cardinals' Andre Pallante, our own Logan Webb, the Phillies' ace Sanchez, and the Mets' Clay Holmes and David Peterson. Mostly National Leaguers. No surprise, therefore, that Soriano coaxed 30 ground-ball double plays; we wonder how many of them were against Junior Caminero. At the farthest end of the spectrum we find the Reds' Andrew Abbott at 0.49.  And while most of the heavy strikeout pitchers tend to get the ball up in the air when it's hit, Garrett Crochet is an exception. This guy gets more ground balls than fly balls, and his K/9 is still second only to Dylan Cease of San Diego. It's pity they're both already out of the playoffs. 

 

The San Francisco Giants Open the 2025 Season!

 

Pushin' Too Hard

This was originally intended for and published on our sister site, Niner Boogie.  But the issues we discuss here affect baseball, if anything, more than football right now. We believe the NFL has done a better job of late addressing the disconnect that exists between the tactics of players and coaches on one hand, and the enjoyment of fans on the other. How the NFL addresses this current topic may prove instructive for fans of both sports. 

There's talk that the NFL Competition Committee might outlaw the "tush-push", or, as it's known to Philadelphia sportscasters, the "Brotherly Shove."  The Eagles love it; most other teams despise it, or so we are told. The question before the committee is whether this is a true "football play," or whether it's something else, something non-sporting, not in agreement with the way the game is meant to be played. 

The tush-push is actually a new variation on the old "flying wedge" from the late 1800s. While the execution is different, the principle is the same: surround the ball carrier with teammates on all sides, and use main strength to push the defense out of the way en masse. 

Developed on the playing fields of Harvard, Yale, Princeton and the other great football powers of the late 19th century, the "flying wedge" involved lead blockers locking arms together, with the ballcarrier tucked inside the nose of the wedge, and two or three teammates behind to push the ballcarrier forward at the moment the wedge collided with the defense. 

The wedge was, like the tush-push, used at the line of scrimmage, and variations developed to attack targeted defensive positions and even to shift the wedge to the left or the right. But the signature use of the "flying wedge," the tactic that gave its name, was on kickoffs, when the locked-arms mass of blockers charged down the field like a runaway train and smashed head-on into the defense. To the unprepared opponent it was all but unstoppable. 

Defenses were forced to come up with counter measures. One was the "wedge buster," a superior athlete with both size and speed, who launched his own body at the nose of the wedge. The great Pudge Heffelfinger of Yale was such a player; he was famed for smashing, airborne, into the wedge.  Remember Washington linebacker Frankie Luvu leaping over the Philly line and being called twice for offsides in the NFC Championship Game? That's what he was trying to do-- be the wedge buster, hit QB Jalen Hurts head-on, and collapse the wedge from above. 

The flying wedge was outlawed in the early 1900s because the collisions were leaving players dead on the field. Blockers can no longer link arms to form a mass. In later years, tactics such as pulling a teammate downfield or over the line to advance the ball were also forbidden. Pushing a player forward, however, is still legal, for now.

The great success (77%) of the tush-push in short-yardage situations is undeniable. While we may not recall a specific game in which the play resulted in a game-winning TD for the Eagles, their ability to execute it consistently well is certainly a factor in their success.  And that leads us to an ongoing, and likely never-ending, conflict of interests that has become a major  issue in baseball and, in this instance anyway, an issue in football.

That conflict is between the strategies and tactics that players and coaches deploy to give their teams the best chance of winning, and the style of play that makes the games more enjoyable for the fans who support the sport.    

This conflict has become more prevalent, and more acute, with the advent of sophisticated analytics which are used to create models that can accurately predict tendencies that are tied to the winning and losing of games.

We yield to no one in our admiration for the life and work of Bill James, who pioneered the practice of determining which measurable factors can be analyzed to determine what "works" on a baseball field and what doesn't. What "works," of course, is defined as that which contributes to the winning of games. Understanding that the ratio between runs scored and runs allowed is the foundation of a team's won-lost record in baseball, James identified the various measurable events that make up the creation of runs, and presented them in a simple formula that could be, and has been, used to predict won-lost records.  

The acceptance of analytics by "baseball men" took a generation to accomplish, but accomplish it has, and now every team has predictive models that show which events at bat or on the mound tend to be productive -- to generally increase a team's chances of winning consistently-- and which ones don't. And therefore, which tendencies ought to be encouraged.

This is the logic behind the "three true outcomes" approach to hitting, and, in a slightly lesser degree, to pitching--  home runs, walks, and strikeouts, which remove the uncertainty of fielding and baserunning from the equation and focus on those events directly related to the batter-pitcher dialogue. Batting statistics, at the team level, are directly correlated with runs scored and therefore with wins. Pitching statistics, while not quite as easy to isolate, are also quantifiable toward run prevention. The most difficult statistics to isolate and analyze are fielding statistics, and the measurable effect fielding stats have on pitching stats, and therefore on overall defense, has yet to be harmonized. 

  

Hitters are encouraged to wait, "get a good pitch to hit," and "drive the ball in the air"-- axioms propounded by the great Ted Williams 80 years ago. A walk is as good as a hit. And pitchers are encouraged to throw as hard as they can for as long as they can, to rack up as many strikeouts as possible before their arm tires. 

So baseball today is filled with strikeouts and home runs, and with pitchers who throw as hard as they can for a few innings and then turn the game over to another pitcher and then another, innings per pitcher diminishing with each change, four, five, and six changes per game per team. These are the strategies and tactics that, over the course of a season, are expected to result in more runs scored, fewer runs allowed, and therefore more wins.  It's not that managers and players discount fielding, or, for that matter, that they ignore an ace starter who can go the distance. It's that at the individual batter-pitcher level-- and every player is either a batter or a pitcher-- the TTO are emphasized because their outcomes can be predicted and their tendencies can be coached. 

What's missing is the "old style" of playing baseball, what was once called, and now seems quaint to say, the "thinking man's game." The idea of a "duel" between two starting pitchers, each working through the innings, constantly adjusting to outwit the opposing batters, has been replaced to great extent by a parade of pitchers on both sides, increasingly indistinguishable from one another. The multi-faceted offense, with "table-setters" followed by "RBI men," is diminished in favor of power hitters now being standard equipment through the lineup. And we have a game that is geared toward the bottom line-- wins-- but one that is not nearly as pleasing or enjoyable to watch as the "old style", which included some strategies and tactics proven ineffective at predicting a consistent winner, but which charmed the folks in the seats and held our attention. 

Bill James himself has written of late about his awareness of this uncomfortable trend, and about the necessity of "baseball men" to make adjustments needed to preserve the fan's interest and enjoyment. Some of those adjustments have been applied in recent years, not to "speed up the game" in order to "get it over with," as the curmudgeons complain, but to produce a more brisk, enjoyable game with less dead time.  

Back to football. The tush-push is certainly successful, but is it in the best interest of the game? Does its success squeeze the drama out of what have historically been the most intense plays--  fourth down and short, or goal-to go? Remember 15 years ago when Bill Belichick went for it on fourth-and-one against the Colts inside his own 30, and failed? It cost the Patriots the game and possibly home-field  for the playoffs. The fallout from that play went on for weeks, with endless discussion and controversy. That kind of gamble might become ancient history if most teams adopt the tush-push, and in a copycat league it's certain many will. 

Even more critically, what would the general adoption of this tactic do to the goal-line stand, among the most thrilling of plays? We're 49er fans, after all. Who can forget the classic stand against the Bengals in Super Bowl XVI, the NFL version of Pickett's Charge? Or the incredible six-play goal line stand in 2001? Or Dre Greenlaw's goal-line tackle against the Seahawks five years ago? All those types of plays-- doomed to obsolescence by a mass of humanity deployed to win a shoving match?   

Football, as with all sports, is enriched by uncertainty, by action, by chances taken and risks challenged on the field of play. As fans, we love the unexpected and distrust predictability. Not that long ago the dull and predictable "automatic" extra point was taken out of its comfort zone and moved back 25 yards. It's still a high-success play, but as Jake Moody knows all too well, it is not "automatic" any more, and games-- Super Bowls-- can turn on one ill-timed miss.  

Should the NFL outlaw the tush-push, it won't be as simple as that. Effectively, the general practice of "pushing" a ballcarrier forward, in any situation, will have to be eliminated across the board. Any such rule change must avoid isolating one play, and instead prohibit the underlying tactic. To do otherwise would be unfair to the Eagles, and would set a bad precedent.

As a parting note, we can't help but see the irony in this story. The tush-push has now become the Philadelphia Eagles' signature play, whether for good or bad. But just seven years ago, the Philadelphia Eagles' signature play was a very different one-- the "Philly Special."  And the Philly Special is the total antithesis of the tush-push; it's innovative, unpredictable, multi-directional, and exciting, and as it unfolded on the field it appeared doomed to failure. Yet it worked, and spectacularly so, to the delight of everyone except a Patriots fan. It's everything the tush-push is not.

We'd bet half the NFL fans in America today have forgotten the name (Brandon Graham) of the player  who made the play that actually won that Super Bowl for the Eagles. But everyone remembers the Philly Special.

There's a lesson in there somewhere. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IReb27tFqMg

Bob Uecker 1934-2025

 

AS the tributes pour in for the late Bob Uecker, the wonderful and funny "Mr. Baseball," we decided to post up a reminder to everyone that before he became a legend, Bob Uecker really was a ballplayer. Here he is, second from the left in the top row (not the "front rooow") with the World Champion St Louis Cardinals of 1964.  

No, the ol "Ueck" didn't get to play in that Series, but he did get the ring, even if he'd later tell America, as a favored guest on the "Tonight Show," that he'd stolen it. He made himself a career as the archetype of an irresistible, wholly American story, the regular guy toiling in obscurity among and alongside the greats, the immortals, while hoping just to stay in the game a little longer. It was such a perfectly relatable tale that we ourselves adopted it back in our stand-up days, claiming to be "The Bob Uecker of Rock & Roll." And please let's not forget he did play twelve years in professional baseball, six of those years in the major leagues. Who among us-- of a certain age, perhaps-- wouldn't trade a whole lot of what we have now for what he had then?  

Bob Uecker never had to. He stayed right in the game, becoming the voice of his home-town Milwaukee Brewers for over fifty years, and the voice of baseball itself for countless millions. He  represented the best that baseball has to offer, a warm, hearty, self-effacing ambassador, carrying a simple joy that was rooted in his love of baseball, his love of life, and his love of people. 

And so, the world inside and outside of baseball has loved him back. That world has gotten juuuuust a bit smaller and sadder today.