I've been doing lots and lots of high cadence pedalling in spin classes at VeloSF, where I go four to five times a week. But I'd done plenty of high cadence pedalling in spin classes over the years, it just never translated to spinning on the road. This time things seem to be different.
In the past, I went to spin classes two to three times a week and rode on the road two or three times during the week, and more on weekends. Though I spun in class, I mostly mashed on the road. For this reason, spinning never became a habit. Now, I am doing five to six hours of high cadence pedalling on weekdays, plus riding on weekends. The difference is two-fold: (1) I am doing more spinning than before; and (2) spinning in class is not interspersed with mashing. As a result, last couple of weekends, when I've ridden outside, I've spun rather than mashed.
To boot, I just replaced the spider on my TA Carmina crank. The old spider had 110mm bolt circle. The new one is 94mm. The old chainring combination was 50-36. The new combination is 46-30. That's right, 30. My low gear now is 30x27. On Sunday, I climbed Glorietta Road westbound. The climb is short and steep -- about 17% in the steepest section. I climbed it SEATED, spinning my 30x27 madly at close to 7mph, almost giggling, as I went up and up. I had to lean way forward to put more weight on the front wheel, to keep the bike from popping a wheelie. I felt so happy when I reached the top, as if I got a new toy. Twenty minutes later I twiddled my way up Pinehurst, passing guys who were mashing their way up the hill.
I had read plenty about benefits of high cadence pedalling. I had seen racers zoom up Pyrennean passes at 15 miles an hour, riding at high cadences. I had understood that fast pedalling uses cardiovascular system over musculo-skeletal, keeping a cyclist's legs fresher longer. I appreciated that it's easier to recover one's breath and slow down the heartbeat than to get rid of lactic acid from legs or make cramps go away. I'd known all that, but putting theory into practice is a completely different matter. I tried spinning while climbing, but it felt awkward, inefficient, slow, and silly, so I invariably abandoned these efforts. It appears that it took a consistent -- and somewhat unintentional -- commitment to spinning in a completely different environment (Computrainer spin classes) that led to my body's and my mind's adaptation to spinning. I didn't set out to become a spinner. Spinning is simply what we do in class, and over the six weeks that I've been doing it, it appears that I've become a spinner without realizing that my pedalling was undergoing such a fundamental change. For this, I'm very grateful to VeloSF.
I used to view spinners with disdain. They were somehow less worthy, as if they weren't manly enough to turn bigger gears. Now that I've joined their ranks, I'll be happy to be insufficiently manly, but ride faster and remain fresher, as I abuse my heart and lungs rather than legs, as I climb.
.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
No Stinkin' Rest Stops
Last Sunday I went out at 12:30 with two flasks of gel and two bottles. One large bottle and one very large bottle. Initial plan was to do the zoo loop, the 42-mile south loop of Grizzly Peak Century through the Oakland Zoo, but as I was going out the door, I conceived of something longer -- either Fruit Stand, a 62-miler or Dublin Grade, a 70-ish mile ride. A couple of miles into the ride I decided on Dublin Grade, mostly because I'd done Fruit Stand, which David Newman affectionately calls "Fruit Loop" the three preceding weekends and it was time for a longer and a different ride.
We've had a stretch of wonderful weather -- dry, with high temperatures in mid-60s -- and last Sunday was no exception. It was a bit breezy in the hills, but calm on the flats. Two miles into the ride I caught Doug-the-Hair-Man, a guy I've seen riding up Tunnel since the early 1990s. He used to ride without a helmet, bib shorts over a T-shirt, mid-back length dark curls streaming behind. Now he rides a bit slower, so the curls just hang there, especially when he rides uphill. I caught up and we chatted a bit, then I rode off. Just as I reached the Grizzly-Skyline intersection, my neighbor Bob Lee caught up. Turned out he was doing the Fruit Loop, so I had company for a while.
I'm not sure if I'm riding faster than in years past or Bob is slower, but he used to make me ride just fast enough to be out of my comfort zone. On Sunday, I was still in my comfort zone, its upper edge, to be sure, but definitely still in it. We rode and talked toward Castro Valley. We had perfect riding weather and I wasn't riding too hard, so not sweating excessively, I didn't need to drink that much and I had more than enough gel. I thought, "why not try to do this ride without stopping?" My longest ride without rest stops is 50 miles, which I did on the last quarter of 2009 Mt. Tam Double. Seventy-five miles would be a significant step up. While I wouldn't have 150 miles in my legs before attempting the 75, I also didn't have the endurance base I had back then. Clearly, a challenge.
Bob and I parted in Castro Valley and I rode on toward Dublin grade. Eastbound, Dublin grade is a three-mile drag that starts out around 4% for a quarter to half a mile, flattens to a steady 2% for two miles, then steepens a bit for a quarter mile before it crests. My legs weren't feeling great, so I climbed conservatively and, as I gained altitude, the wind stiffened, making the climb more challenging. I decided to spin and see where that got me. Well, I was spinning 50x19 at 15mph into a headwind. The legs felt better, so I spun faster, going around 17 during the last third of the climb. Properly spent as I crested, I coasted into Dublin. My very large bottle was still a quarter full and the large was untouched, so I was optimistic that I had enough hydration and nutrition to get home without stopping, but would I have enough legs?
[I should mention that this no-stopping business excluded traffic lights. I had to make my first stop at a red light in Castro Valley and knew that there would be additional stops at lights on San Ramon Valley Blvd aka Danville Blvd.]
There was a steady 5-8 mph head wind on San Ramon Valley Blvd. I got into the brake hoods and spun. Drops would be uncomfortable on the back and neck and pushing a big gear into a headwind is a recipe for cramps. This position and leg speed seemed a good way to deal with the conditions. I was in the big ring and somewhere in the middle of the cassette, twiddling away. Spinning felt good and the legs recovered. I think all the high cadence work in VeloSF classes helped.
I thought I was making good progress, but I had no data to back up this subjective feeling because my computer's wheel sensor battery was in hospice care. I'd begun the ride with 2988.3 miles on the computer, but the sensor picked up data very sporadically. I was looking forward to turning over 3000 miles, but two hours into the ride my computer was still telling me that I'd ridden less than 10 miles and I had doubts as to whether I'd get to 3000 miles that day. But I really was making good progress, notwithstanding the half-dozen traffic lights, reaching Danville sooner than I thought I would. This was encouraging, as was the computer's reaching 3000 miles. I still had nearly a full bottle and just 25 miles to get home. More spinning from traffic light to traffic light, but now I welcomed these red light respites because I had a hard time controlling myself and was riding at a faster than endurance pace, flogging myself pretty good.
Got to Walnut Creek, turned left and left again to get to Olympic Blvd. which got me to Lafayette, where Olympic presents a cyclist headed back to Oakland with several unappetizing options: (1) Reliez Station Road -- a third of a mile at 13% -- then a descent toward St. Mary's Road, which is a 2-mile first false flat, then uphill drag to St. Mary's college campus; (2) Lafayette-Moraga bike path -- mostly flat but used heavily by walkers, joggers, dog walkers, and very casual cyclists, making it slow and potentially dangerous; (3) A quarter mile on the bike path, then a slow ride through a quiet residential neighborhood to downtown Lafayette, then a left on Moraga Road, a 1.25-mile climb on a very busy two-lane road to Rheem Valley in Moraga. I went with number 3.
My friends hate Moraga Road because of traffic. I love that climb and am willing to overlook the traffic. Most of the time, for me it's an aggressive big-ring climb. On Sunday, I geared down and spun. Never having climbed here in late afternoon light in January I did not know that I would be climbing into the sun. Coupled with fast traffic and a very narrow shoulder it was not a safe place to ride, but I negotiated it just fine, again riding a bit harder than my legs would have preferred, but what the heck, it was training.
I rode through the flats of Moraga then, onto Pinehurst, toward Canyon, where it must have been 12 degrees cooler and my stubbly legs became goosebumpy, which hurt. As I rode past the post office, a cyclist remounted his bike 10 yards before I reached him, and he set off at a brisk pace. Chase or not? Legs are OK, so chase. I caught him and passed him. He drafted. On the rise to the driveway to John McCosker Ranch, I rode him off my wheel and charged to the foot of the climb, where I lost my enthusiasm. Legs were good enough, but with 70 miles in my brain as well as in my legs, I did not have the motivation to do an 8-minute interval to Skyline. So, I called truce and sat up. He passed me and seemed to be pulling away for a while, and at times I'd lose sight of him. But then he appeared to lose interest too. We climbed about 25 yards apart, then I felt better and started reeling him in. At the top he was about three-four yards in front of me. I blew past him on Skyline, wishing him a good ride as I went by, and descended home.
Arrived home just before 4:30. So, a four-hour ride of 70-something miles without stops. After all that, the legs and the brain felt pretty good. I need to figure out a way to carry a third bottle on the bike and then I can go for an even longer non-stop ride.
.
We've had a stretch of wonderful weather -- dry, with high temperatures in mid-60s -- and last Sunday was no exception. It was a bit breezy in the hills, but calm on the flats. Two miles into the ride I caught Doug-the-Hair-Man, a guy I've seen riding up Tunnel since the early 1990s. He used to ride without a helmet, bib shorts over a T-shirt, mid-back length dark curls streaming behind. Now he rides a bit slower, so the curls just hang there, especially when he rides uphill. I caught up and we chatted a bit, then I rode off. Just as I reached the Grizzly-Skyline intersection, my neighbor Bob Lee caught up. Turned out he was doing the Fruit Loop, so I had company for a while.
I'm not sure if I'm riding faster than in years past or Bob is slower, but he used to make me ride just fast enough to be out of my comfort zone. On Sunday, I was still in my comfort zone, its upper edge, to be sure, but definitely still in it. We rode and talked toward Castro Valley. We had perfect riding weather and I wasn't riding too hard, so not sweating excessively, I didn't need to drink that much and I had more than enough gel. I thought, "why not try to do this ride without stopping?" My longest ride without rest stops is 50 miles, which I did on the last quarter of 2009 Mt. Tam Double. Seventy-five miles would be a significant step up. While I wouldn't have 150 miles in my legs before attempting the 75, I also didn't have the endurance base I had back then. Clearly, a challenge.
Bob and I parted in Castro Valley and I rode on toward Dublin grade. Eastbound, Dublin grade is a three-mile drag that starts out around 4% for a quarter to half a mile, flattens to a steady 2% for two miles, then steepens a bit for a quarter mile before it crests. My legs weren't feeling great, so I climbed conservatively and, as I gained altitude, the wind stiffened, making the climb more challenging. I decided to spin and see where that got me. Well, I was spinning 50x19 at 15mph into a headwind. The legs felt better, so I spun faster, going around 17 during the last third of the climb. Properly spent as I crested, I coasted into Dublin. My very large bottle was still a quarter full and the large was untouched, so I was optimistic that I had enough hydration and nutrition to get home without stopping, but would I have enough legs?
[I should mention that this no-stopping business excluded traffic lights. I had to make my first stop at a red light in Castro Valley and knew that there would be additional stops at lights on San Ramon Valley Blvd aka Danville Blvd.]
There was a steady 5-8 mph head wind on San Ramon Valley Blvd. I got into the brake hoods and spun. Drops would be uncomfortable on the back and neck and pushing a big gear into a headwind is a recipe for cramps. This position and leg speed seemed a good way to deal with the conditions. I was in the big ring and somewhere in the middle of the cassette, twiddling away. Spinning felt good and the legs recovered. I think all the high cadence work in VeloSF classes helped.
I thought I was making good progress, but I had no data to back up this subjective feeling because my computer's wheel sensor battery was in hospice care. I'd begun the ride with 2988.3 miles on the computer, but the sensor picked up data very sporadically. I was looking forward to turning over 3000 miles, but two hours into the ride my computer was still telling me that I'd ridden less than 10 miles and I had doubts as to whether I'd get to 3000 miles that day. But I really was making good progress, notwithstanding the half-dozen traffic lights, reaching Danville sooner than I thought I would. This was encouraging, as was the computer's reaching 3000 miles. I still had nearly a full bottle and just 25 miles to get home. More spinning from traffic light to traffic light, but now I welcomed these red light respites because I had a hard time controlling myself and was riding at a faster than endurance pace, flogging myself pretty good.
Got to Walnut Creek, turned left and left again to get to Olympic Blvd. which got me to Lafayette, where Olympic presents a cyclist headed back to Oakland with several unappetizing options: (1) Reliez Station Road -- a third of a mile at 13% -- then a descent toward St. Mary's Road, which is a 2-mile first false flat, then uphill drag to St. Mary's college campus; (2) Lafayette-Moraga bike path -- mostly flat but used heavily by walkers, joggers, dog walkers, and very casual cyclists, making it slow and potentially dangerous; (3) A quarter mile on the bike path, then a slow ride through a quiet residential neighborhood to downtown Lafayette, then a left on Moraga Road, a 1.25-mile climb on a very busy two-lane road to Rheem Valley in Moraga. I went with number 3.
My friends hate Moraga Road because of traffic. I love that climb and am willing to overlook the traffic. Most of the time, for me it's an aggressive big-ring climb. On Sunday, I geared down and spun. Never having climbed here in late afternoon light in January I did not know that I would be climbing into the sun. Coupled with fast traffic and a very narrow shoulder it was not a safe place to ride, but I negotiated it just fine, again riding a bit harder than my legs would have preferred, but what the heck, it was training.
I rode through the flats of Moraga then, onto Pinehurst, toward Canyon, where it must have been 12 degrees cooler and my stubbly legs became goosebumpy, which hurt. As I rode past the post office, a cyclist remounted his bike 10 yards before I reached him, and he set off at a brisk pace. Chase or not? Legs are OK, so chase. I caught him and passed him. He drafted. On the rise to the driveway to John McCosker Ranch, I rode him off my wheel and charged to the foot of the climb, where I lost my enthusiasm. Legs were good enough, but with 70 miles in my brain as well as in my legs, I did not have the motivation to do an 8-minute interval to Skyline. So, I called truce and sat up. He passed me and seemed to be pulling away for a while, and at times I'd lose sight of him. But then he appeared to lose interest too. We climbed about 25 yards apart, then I felt better and started reeling him in. At the top he was about three-four yards in front of me. I blew past him on Skyline, wishing him a good ride as I went by, and descended home.
Arrived home just before 4:30. So, a four-hour ride of 70-something miles without stops. After all that, the legs and the brain felt pretty good. I need to figure out a way to carry a third bottle on the bike and then I can go for an even longer non-stop ride.
.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Short-Term Progress Report
I don't know if it's my Computrainer spin classes, semi-regular core workouts, or the combination of the two, but my legs felt really good during and after last Saturday's 65-mile ride. Most of the ride was at conversational pace, except for two significant efforts. One was on about two miles of slight uphill of Crow Canyon Road from Castro Valley to San Ramon, where I drove the pace at near time trial effort. It was hard, my heart rate reached 178, but I drove until we turned off onto Norris Canyon Road, where I recovered. But I was willing to continue pushing the pace at a sustained, hard effort and keep going as long as necessary, though I was glad when it was over. The other hard effort was on Glorietta Road in Lafayette, which has a short, nasty steep pitch of 13-14%. I stood up and led my group of four in 36x19 gear. Again, it was hard, but I felt strong enough to climb it aggressively and pushed harder than I may have two months ago. Then, unbeknownst to self, I climbed Pinehurst in 36x19 and was surprised to discover I used that gear when I reached the top. I was tired and sleepy all afternoon and evening, but my legs were relatively fresh.
During the ride, I felt very comfortable climbing standing up, standing longer and riding more aggressively than usual. I attribute this to the Velo SF Computraner classes, during which we do repeated standing intervals of two minutes. After a while these intervals get hard, but it appears they serve me well on the road.
So far, after almost a month of Velo SF I am happy with the results.
.
During the ride, I felt very comfortable climbing standing up, standing longer and riding more aggressively than usual. I attribute this to the Velo SF Computraner classes, during which we do repeated standing intervals of two minutes. After a while these intervals get hard, but it appears they serve me well on the road.
So far, after almost a month of Velo SF I am happy with the results.
.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Going Nowhere Fast
I belong to Club One. I joined so I could go to spin classes. I didn't go to spin, preferring to ride outside. I paid $90 a month to not go to the gym. When the weather turned crappy I went to spin and discovered that my cleats were worn out and I kept popping out of SPD-style pedals. Replacing the cleats would be an enormous hassle because I retrofitted my shoes to mid-sole cleats and the cleats were practically glued in. Removing them might damage the shoes' carbon soles. Meanwhile, I found another gym -- a cycling gym. You bring your own bike, hook it up to a Computrainer, and train with power. Works great! I quit Club One.
To make training effective, it's a good idea to get lactate tested. So, I got tested. Start at 100 watts, stay there for four minutes, monitoring heart rate, rate of perceived exertion, and blood lactate level (blood samples from earlobe), increase resistance by 30 watts and do it again until lactate saturation reaches a certain level. Mercifully, this is not a go-to-failure type of test -- my mind usually fails gives out before my body does when I do those -- you go 8-9 RPE and stop. It turns out, my lactate threshold level is 200 watts, in other words, if I stay below it, I can ride forever provided I eat and hydrate properly. Good enough. Lactate saturation levels and heart rate are plotted on a graph against power numbers, allowing a coach to come up with training zones.
Armed with training zones, I go to VeloSF regularly and spin like crazy with a number of like-minded individuals. The vibe here is completely different from typical gyms. People are FIT and serious about cycling; there are no dabblers here. Coaches are serious national and international level cyclists and triathletes. You get feedback of power and speed numbers you generate in addition to RPE. Music is good -- coaches respect our ears and age and don't play garbage. Exercise rooms are air-conditioned and there are wall and floor-mounted fans to cool us down. All this is terrifically motivating, which is essential because the training is hard. I am completely wrung out after 90 minutes of structured work. I've been at it for two weeks.
I hope I am getting stronger. I don't ride super early in the morning so much anymore and I don't see my friends as much, but I get three hours more sleep on the days when I used to ride early. Also, I am doing about 15 minutes of core exercises three to four days a week. We'll see how these changes in training affect my doubles rides. I'd like to get PRs at DMD and at AA-8 or Terrible Two this year.
.
To make training effective, it's a good idea to get lactate tested. So, I got tested. Start at 100 watts, stay there for four minutes, monitoring heart rate, rate of perceived exertion, and blood lactate level (blood samples from earlobe), increase resistance by 30 watts and do it again until lactate saturation reaches a certain level. Mercifully, this is not a go-to-failure type of test -- my mind usually fails gives out before my body does when I do those -- you go 8-9 RPE and stop. It turns out, my lactate threshold level is 200 watts, in other words, if I stay below it, I can ride forever provided I eat and hydrate properly. Good enough. Lactate saturation levels and heart rate are plotted on a graph against power numbers, allowing a coach to come up with training zones.
Armed with training zones, I go to VeloSF regularly and spin like crazy with a number of like-minded individuals. The vibe here is completely different from typical gyms. People are FIT and serious about cycling; there are no dabblers here. Coaches are serious national and international level cyclists and triathletes. You get feedback of power and speed numbers you generate in addition to RPE. Music is good -- coaches respect our ears and age and don't play garbage. Exercise rooms are air-conditioned and there are wall and floor-mounted fans to cool us down. All this is terrifically motivating, which is essential because the training is hard. I am completely wrung out after 90 minutes of structured work. I've been at it for two weeks.
I hope I am getting stronger. I don't ride super early in the morning so much anymore and I don't see my friends as much, but I get three hours more sleep on the days when I used to ride early. Also, I am doing about 15 minutes of core exercises three to four days a week. We'll see how these changes in training affect my doubles rides. I'd like to get PRs at DMD and at AA-8 or Terrible Two this year.
.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
I am a Cohen-head
A Leonard Cohen-head. Jessica and I went to his concert on Sunday. Had a fantastic time. The band was great. They played for over three hours. Our seats were good. The sound wasn't too loud -- the first time in my 30 years of concert going that I didn't feel I needed ear plugs. He played all the great old stuff: So Long Marianne, The Partisan, Famous Blue Raincoat, Suzanne, as well as the "newer" faves: First We Take Manhattan, Everybody Knows, Closing Time. Although we sat just thirteen rows from the stage I wanted to be closer. I wanted to be ON stage, absorbing the show as much as I could. So, when we got home I went online and bought a ticket for Monday's show on center aisle, sixth row. It was even better. He played longer, there was more banter, and the band was really, really into this show. The crowd was just electric and the band fed off our energy. As Jessica said, "on Sunday we saw an old man doing Leonard Cohen, on Monday you got to see Leonard Cohen." And it's true, from time to time, when he tipped up his fedora, I saw the man in this photograph. I saw a man in his mid-forties at the height of his artistic powers. Not bad for a self-described 76-year old "kid with a crazy dream." I am a Cohen-head. I hope he returns to the Bay Area, I'll take advantage of every reasonable opportunity to see him again.
P.S. Did I mention that Jessica's parents hung out with LC in Greece and New York in the early '60s?
.
Monday, November 8, 2010
It's the Time of the Season for [T]Raining (and a new font)
First truly rainy ride on Sunday. Just 75 minutes in steady, sometimes hard and warm rain with Howie. It was windy too, so that on descents we felt like we were both sliding around and being blown around. Large raindrops stung my face on a 40+ mph descent of Joaquin Miller. After that I was completely soaked and done with the ride. We saw zero cyclists, which gave us feelings of moral and physical superiority.
.
.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Way OT: 2010 World Series
Giants win their first World Series in San Francisco.
In August 1993, the Giants were ahead of second place Atlanta Braves by eight games in early August. I was rooting hard. In my office, I listened to their afternoon games and talk shows on the radio. As August wore on, the team wore out. By early September their lead was gone. They managed to catch up to the Braves, but not quite. Needing to win their final game, the Giants gave the ball to their rookie phenom Solomon Torres. Torres, imploded spectacularly, as the Giants lost the game by over 10 runs. This was the year before MLB adopted wild card playoff scheme and, although the Giants won 103 games, they did not make the playoffs.
I took their failure very hard. As their lead dwindled in August, I would wake up in the middle of the night, fretting and worrying about their pitching, hitting, and fielding failures. I became an emotional wreck. When it all ended, I swore I would never become so emotionally invested in a team in any sport. Whatever rewards such an investment may have offered, the failure, whose risk was the same as that of success, hurt so much more. So, I 2/3-heartedly rooted for the '94 49ers and excellent Cal Bears football teams of Jeff Tedford's early years.
The 2010 Giants' season waxed and waned. They played mediocre baseball for the first two months of the season, then called up Buster Posey, a rookie catcher. Posey played unremarkably with the big team as a September call-up in 2009. There was much hand-wringing over whether Posey should catch or play first base. He would become worn out quickly behind the plate, but was completely inexperienced as a first baseman. Aubrey Huff, a career outfielder, was manning first at the time. Posey-at-first experiment lasted only a few games. Management decided to let him catch and traded away Bengie Molina, a veteran popular with the pitching staff, the team's undisputed strength. This was the tipping point: if the Posey experiment failed, affecting the pitchers the team would have no chance.
No one expected what would follow. The team caught fire, with Posey hitting over 330 for the first three months, throwing out base runners much more successfully than Molina, and deftly handling the pitchers. Posey was remarkably poised, carrying the team offensively and defensively some games. The rest of the lineup caught fire too, as the team embarked on a lengthy winning streak. Finally, San Diego Padres, the team that owned the Giants all season, began to falter, launching a long losing streak of its own. The season came down to the final series between these two teams in San Francisco. The Giants clinched Western Division on the last day.
I followed with interest. In the first round, the Giants played the Braves, a team decimated by injuries, but nonetheless dangerous, one with its own rookie of the year candidate in Jason Heyward and an excellent pitching staff anchored by playoff tested veterans Derek Lowe and Tim Hudson. Aided greatly by the Braves' numerous defensive gaffes, the Giants eased their way into the second round in four games. There, a much more formidable foe awaited in the Philadelphia Phillies. The Phillies, 2008 World Series champions were also a two-time defending National League champions. Before the start of 2010 they traded for the all-world pitcher Roy Halladay, who had no-hit Cincinnati Reds in the first round of the playoffs. Yet, with Halladay on the mound for the first game of League Championship Series, the Giants' Cody Ross, an afterthought mid-season acquisition, homered twice. I began to believe that this team may be something special. Special they were, overcoming the Phillies in six games, the final game decided by the Giants' third baseman Juan Uribe game-winning home run to the opposite field, more remarkable for a dead-pull hitter. The Giants' relievers made the finish exciting, as the Phillies had runners at first and second with Ryan Howard, a prodigious hitter at the plate. We all exhaled in relief, as Howard took a called third strike with full count. The Giants were in the World Series.
There, Texas Rangers, the best hitting team in the majors awaited. The Rangers had eliminated two best American League teams in Tampa Bay Rays and the Yankees. The Rangers were consensus favorites. I was glad the Giants made it and quietly hoping they'd stop San Francisco's stretch of World Series futility, but expected little.
Game 1: Tim Lincecum vs. Cliff Lee. Lee's postseason record going into the game was 7-0 with an invisible ERA. After Lincecum two-hit the Braves in his first playoff start, he had two unremarkable starts and I thought the pitching edge would go to the Rangers. I followed the game on my phone as I rode Cal Train with David Newman from San Francisco to San Jose for the Sharks game. As expected, the Rangers scored the first two runs and Lincecum was not at his best. "Oh, well," we said, then the Giants came back and tied the game before we got off the train. As we ate bad hockey rink food before the game, following the game on TV, the Giants edged ahead and began to pull away gradually. Lee left, having given up seven earned runs. During the first intermission, hundreds of baseball/hockey fans remained glued to the televisions as the Rangers batted in the 9th inning. They hockey game resumed, but we didn't go back to our seats. The Rangers made it somewhat interesting, scoring three runs to pull within 11-7, but the Giants closed it out to rousing cheers in the Sharks Arena.
Game 2: Pitching matchup favored the Giants with Matt Cain facing C.J. Wilson. The Giants had a good chance to go up two-zip, but if the Rangers somehow managed to take this game they would have the momentum going home for three games. Can pitched beautifully, though I saw little of this game. The Giants crept out to 2-0 lead, when Wilson developed a blister on his pitching hand. The Rangers relievers gave up seven more runs, all with two outs in the eighth inning, walking four consecutive hitters in the process.
Game 3: The Rangers hit two home runs accounting for all their runs and hung on for a 4-2 win. The Giants pitcher Jonathan Sanchez, was obviously running out of poop for his second start in a row, as the Rangers jumped out to a 4-0 lead. I was encouraged by the Giants' bullpen's ability to hold the Rangers scoreless after that and the Giants scoring two runs to make the game closer, but it was clear that game 4 would be pivotal. A win would give the Giants a commanding 3-1 series lead, a loss would tie the series, shift all the momentum to the Rangers with another game in Texas, giving the Rangers a good chance to go up 3-2 in the series.
Game 4: Halloween. Madison Bumgarner vs. Tommy Hunter. The team with the better worst starting pitcher would win. Bumgarner, the rookie, was nearly unhittable. I peeked occasionally at my phone -- the game was scoreless through the first few innings. I was too nervous to turn on the TV. Then it was time to head out for trick-or-treating with six 9-year old girls. I tried following the game on my phone. Very frustrated that VERIZON (yes, Verizon) reception is horrible in our neighborhood. Meanwhile, Bumgarner was four-hitting the Rangers for eight innings and receiving amazing defensive support. The Giants hit two home runs on the way to a 4-0 lead. Fortunately, many other parents were doing the same thing and their NON-VERIZON service was much better, so I knew the score. Made it home for the mercifully very uneventful bottom of the ninth. Sophie and I watched it together. She got into it. Giants up 3-1. One more win, baby!
Game 5: I'm watching the whole thing, dammit. Lincecum v. Lee again. All the pressure is on Lee to keep his team in the series. Hopefully, Lincecum got his World Series yips out of the way and would pitch better. Did he ever! He looked focused and mean on the mound. I've watched him pitch quite a bit over the past couple of years and I've never seen such determination on his face. Lee pitched well too, but he was giving up hits, and though the Giants weren't scoring, he seemed more vulnerable than Lincecum. In the top of the 7th, Ross and Uribe singled, Huff bunted them over to 3d and 2d. Burrell struck out. Up came Edgar Renteria, the Giants' nearly perpetually injured shortstop, who had a couple of big hits in Game 1. Lee didn't need to give Renteria anything to hit, as lightly hitting Aaron Rowand waited on deck, but it's not Lee-like to shy away from challenges. And even though Lee wasn't trying to throw a hittable pitch on 2-0 count (who ever does?), he got too much of the plate, Renteria swung, and out went the ball for a three-run homer! Giants' dugout exulted. The Rangers got one run back in the bottom of the 7th, as Nelson Cruz jerked one out for a solo homer, but Lincecum settled down, striking out four of his last five batters. I didn't see some of this, as Sophie asked for homework help and I wasn't going to choose TV over my kid, but we made it back to the living room for the bottom of the ninth. The awfully bearded Brian Wilson pitched a 1-2-3 ninth, striking out Cruz to end the game. Bedlam ensued. Big sigh of relief and joy.
The next morning all the newsstands were sold out of the Chronicle. But the Chron posted newsboys and girls throughout downtown, however, and I picked up a couple of issues. I've been in the Bay Area since 1980. I've been here for all the 49ers Super Bowl wins, but I've never seen the area this jacked up about a team. Pundits said this rivalled the Niners' first Super Bowl win in 1981 and it may have, but I was a Rams' fan at the time and tried very hard to ignore the Niner inanity around me. This time, notwithstanding promises to myself, I allowed myself to become emotionally involved and was riding the crest of excitement. It was fun. Still is. Going to the parade tomorrow. It's two blocks from my office, how can I miss it?
.
In August 1993, the Giants were ahead of second place Atlanta Braves by eight games in early August. I was rooting hard. In my office, I listened to their afternoon games and talk shows on the radio. As August wore on, the team wore out. By early September their lead was gone. They managed to catch up to the Braves, but not quite. Needing to win their final game, the Giants gave the ball to their rookie phenom Solomon Torres. Torres, imploded spectacularly, as the Giants lost the game by over 10 runs. This was the year before MLB adopted wild card playoff scheme and, although the Giants won 103 games, they did not make the playoffs.
I took their failure very hard. As their lead dwindled in August, I would wake up in the middle of the night, fretting and worrying about their pitching, hitting, and fielding failures. I became an emotional wreck. When it all ended, I swore I would never become so emotionally invested in a team in any sport. Whatever rewards such an investment may have offered, the failure, whose risk was the same as that of success, hurt so much more. So, I 2/3-heartedly rooted for the '94 49ers and excellent Cal Bears football teams of Jeff Tedford's early years.
The 2010 Giants' season waxed and waned. They played mediocre baseball for the first two months of the season, then called up Buster Posey, a rookie catcher. Posey played unremarkably with the big team as a September call-up in 2009. There was much hand-wringing over whether Posey should catch or play first base. He would become worn out quickly behind the plate, but was completely inexperienced as a first baseman. Aubrey Huff, a career outfielder, was manning first at the time. Posey-at-first experiment lasted only a few games. Management decided to let him catch and traded away Bengie Molina, a veteran popular with the pitching staff, the team's undisputed strength. This was the tipping point: if the Posey experiment failed, affecting the pitchers the team would have no chance.
No one expected what would follow. The team caught fire, with Posey hitting over 330 for the first three months, throwing out base runners much more successfully than Molina, and deftly handling the pitchers. Posey was remarkably poised, carrying the team offensively and defensively some games. The rest of the lineup caught fire too, as the team embarked on a lengthy winning streak. Finally, San Diego Padres, the team that owned the Giants all season, began to falter, launching a long losing streak of its own. The season came down to the final series between these two teams in San Francisco. The Giants clinched Western Division on the last day.
I followed with interest. In the first round, the Giants played the Braves, a team decimated by injuries, but nonetheless dangerous, one with its own rookie of the year candidate in Jason Heyward and an excellent pitching staff anchored by playoff tested veterans Derek Lowe and Tim Hudson. Aided greatly by the Braves' numerous defensive gaffes, the Giants eased their way into the second round in four games. There, a much more formidable foe awaited in the Philadelphia Phillies. The Phillies, 2008 World Series champions were also a two-time defending National League champions. Before the start of 2010 they traded for the all-world pitcher Roy Halladay, who had no-hit Cincinnati Reds in the first round of the playoffs. Yet, with Halladay on the mound for the first game of League Championship Series, the Giants' Cody Ross, an afterthought mid-season acquisition, homered twice. I began to believe that this team may be something special. Special they were, overcoming the Phillies in six games, the final game decided by the Giants' third baseman Juan Uribe game-winning home run to the opposite field, more remarkable for a dead-pull hitter. The Giants' relievers made the finish exciting, as the Phillies had runners at first and second with Ryan Howard, a prodigious hitter at the plate. We all exhaled in relief, as Howard took a called third strike with full count. The Giants were in the World Series.
There, Texas Rangers, the best hitting team in the majors awaited. The Rangers had eliminated two best American League teams in Tampa Bay Rays and the Yankees. The Rangers were consensus favorites. I was glad the Giants made it and quietly hoping they'd stop San Francisco's stretch of World Series futility, but expected little.
Game 1: Tim Lincecum vs. Cliff Lee. Lee's postseason record going into the game was 7-0 with an invisible ERA. After Lincecum two-hit the Braves in his first playoff start, he had two unremarkable starts and I thought the pitching edge would go to the Rangers. I followed the game on my phone as I rode Cal Train with David Newman from San Francisco to San Jose for the Sharks game. As expected, the Rangers scored the first two runs and Lincecum was not at his best. "Oh, well," we said, then the Giants came back and tied the game before we got off the train. As we ate bad hockey rink food before the game, following the game on TV, the Giants edged ahead and began to pull away gradually. Lee left, having given up seven earned runs. During the first intermission, hundreds of baseball/hockey fans remained glued to the televisions as the Rangers batted in the 9th inning. They hockey game resumed, but we didn't go back to our seats. The Rangers made it somewhat interesting, scoring three runs to pull within 11-7, but the Giants closed it out to rousing cheers in the Sharks Arena.
Game 2: Pitching matchup favored the Giants with Matt Cain facing C.J. Wilson. The Giants had a good chance to go up two-zip, but if the Rangers somehow managed to take this game they would have the momentum going home for three games. Can pitched beautifully, though I saw little of this game. The Giants crept out to 2-0 lead, when Wilson developed a blister on his pitching hand. The Rangers relievers gave up seven more runs, all with two outs in the eighth inning, walking four consecutive hitters in the process.
Game 3: The Rangers hit two home runs accounting for all their runs and hung on for a 4-2 win. The Giants pitcher Jonathan Sanchez, was obviously running out of poop for his second start in a row, as the Rangers jumped out to a 4-0 lead. I was encouraged by the Giants' bullpen's ability to hold the Rangers scoreless after that and the Giants scoring two runs to make the game closer, but it was clear that game 4 would be pivotal. A win would give the Giants a commanding 3-1 series lead, a loss would tie the series, shift all the momentum to the Rangers with another game in Texas, giving the Rangers a good chance to go up 3-2 in the series.
Game 4: Halloween. Madison Bumgarner vs. Tommy Hunter. The team with the better worst starting pitcher would win. Bumgarner, the rookie, was nearly unhittable. I peeked occasionally at my phone -- the game was scoreless through the first few innings. I was too nervous to turn on the TV. Then it was time to head out for trick-or-treating with six 9-year old girls. I tried following the game on my phone. Very frustrated that VERIZON (yes, Verizon) reception is horrible in our neighborhood. Meanwhile, Bumgarner was four-hitting the Rangers for eight innings and receiving amazing defensive support. The Giants hit two home runs on the way to a 4-0 lead. Fortunately, many other parents were doing the same thing and their NON-VERIZON service was much better, so I knew the score. Made it home for the mercifully very uneventful bottom of the ninth. Sophie and I watched it together. She got into it. Giants up 3-1. One more win, baby!
Game 5: I'm watching the whole thing, dammit. Lincecum v. Lee again. All the pressure is on Lee to keep his team in the series. Hopefully, Lincecum got his World Series yips out of the way and would pitch better. Did he ever! He looked focused and mean on the mound. I've watched him pitch quite a bit over the past couple of years and I've never seen such determination on his face. Lee pitched well too, but he was giving up hits, and though the Giants weren't scoring, he seemed more vulnerable than Lincecum. In the top of the 7th, Ross and Uribe singled, Huff bunted them over to 3d and 2d. Burrell struck out. Up came Edgar Renteria, the Giants' nearly perpetually injured shortstop, who had a couple of big hits in Game 1. Lee didn't need to give Renteria anything to hit, as lightly hitting Aaron Rowand waited on deck, but it's not Lee-like to shy away from challenges. And even though Lee wasn't trying to throw a hittable pitch on 2-0 count (who ever does?), he got too much of the plate, Renteria swung, and out went the ball for a three-run homer! Giants' dugout exulted. The Rangers got one run back in the bottom of the 7th, as Nelson Cruz jerked one out for a solo homer, but Lincecum settled down, striking out four of his last five batters. I didn't see some of this, as Sophie asked for homework help and I wasn't going to choose TV over my kid, but we made it back to the living room for the bottom of the ninth. The awfully bearded Brian Wilson pitched a 1-2-3 ninth, striking out Cruz to end the game. Bedlam ensued. Big sigh of relief and joy.
The next morning all the newsstands were sold out of the Chronicle. But the Chron posted newsboys and girls throughout downtown, however, and I picked up a couple of issues. I've been in the Bay Area since 1980. I've been here for all the 49ers Super Bowl wins, but I've never seen the area this jacked up about a team. Pundits said this rivalled the Niners' first Super Bowl win in 1981 and it may have, but I was a Rams' fan at the time and tried very hard to ignore the Niner inanity around me. This time, notwithstanding promises to myself, I allowed myself to become emotionally involved and was riding the crest of excitement. It was fun. Still is. Going to the parade tomorrow. It's two blocks from my office, how can I miss it?
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)