Rafael Devers went from an 0-2 hole to working a key lead-off walk in the 9th.
He hadn’t done his job, per se. Devers didn’t knock a game-tying shot through the roof of Miami’s Loan Depot Park, a shot with the force and consequence of a pair of proton torpedoes colliding with a main reactor, effectively blasting that awful surf n’ turf fish bowl off the face of the earth while absolving the star of his many sins at the plate so far. No, Devers did not hit a walk-off, 2-run homer with no one on base
as a member of the visiting team — but he did get on base.
For the fourth time over the final five frames, San Francisco’s leadoff batter reached base. The previous three times, the offense did nothing with the opportunity. The 5th, 6th, and 7th innings ended with that runner standing in the same place he started, on first, twiddling his thumbs. The last time a Giants runner reached scoring position was way back in the 3rd inning.
Down 2-1, down to their final three outs, someone needed to make something happen. The issue of scoring had to be forced. So after Devers worked an admirable walk, Tony Vitello signaled for speedster Jonah Cox to take his place as a pinch runner.
That’s when the finger got wagged.
Seeing Cox make his way out onto the field, helmet on, Devers emphatically gestured back to Tony Vitello, trying to get his manager’s attention to tell him that he was staying put. The rookie slowed his trot down first, looked back to the dugout and back to the veteran Raffy, like a kid caught between two parents in an argument. Devers gave Cox a thumbs up, told him I’m good, I’m good as he nodded sheepishly, not wanting to impose himself on the base Devers had earned, nor wanting to return to the dugout against the wishes of his manager. Eventually the first base umpire stepped in, and Devers acquiesced, covering his face in the hollow of his helmet as he walked back to the dugout, muttering words meant for no soul to hear. In an attempt to calm himself, he stretched his arms out and exhaled. Bench coach Jayce Tingler greeted him with a butt tap that Devers rejected with a shimmy and squirm.
He was pissed.
Pissed about what exactly? As someone who notoriously does not talk to the media, we might never know. There was possibly a misunderstanding in which Devers, who had been dealing with some leg soreness over the weekend, felt healthy enough to run. I’m sure there’s an emotional cocktail of pride mixed with frustration rearing its ugly head here too. No, Raffy didn’t punch a hole through the roof. In fact, he had gone hitless in three official at-bats and flew out to center with two runners on in the 3rd. Zooming out a bit, yes, the team stinks, and he’s partially to blame for this stinkiness considering how off-and-on-and-off-again he’s been in what is shaping up to be the worst offensive season in his career. Devers wants to be a competitor, and neither he, nor his team, are competing. He worked a walk, but some pitches got by that he wanted back. He wanted a do-over, probably at all of it. Staying on the field was his way of getting a second chance at changing the game. Vitello said as much when asked about it after the game: he’d rather have players arguing to remain on the field than begging to be taken off of it (maybe we’ll get to that point sometime soon).
That’s a diplomatic approach to what many on the outside perceived as a dollar diva on a bad team showing up a rookie manager. We nearly witnessed a mutiny.
In terms of strategy, there isn’t much of an argument for Devers to stay at first. Sacrificing Devers’ bat for some basepath speed makes sense, especially if the plan was to steal second. From that vantage point, any hit that finds its way to the outfield would surely allow Cox to tie the game. If he advances on that first at-bat, the Giants heart of the order has three chances to force a bottom of the 9th.
Based on what Vitello said, that was the thinking. The only problem: Cox never broke for second. Jung Hoo Lee saw three pitches, flying out on the third, and the runner never even flinched towards second. Two pitches to Willy Adames, same deal. No attempt. Cox stayed at first and was routinely forced out on a game-ending double play. Devers could’ve done that! Maybe that’s what he was saying when he shooed away the pinch runner: It doesn’t matter. You ain’t going anywhere. You or me, we’ll both just be standing here when the game ends.
Considering what occurred, it’s only fair to question what happened. Was there a signal given on a specific pitch, a more general green light given, and the kid just couldn’t shift into gear? Or was the plan to see if an opportunity to swipe second presented itself, and if not, feel good about Cox’s ability to score from first on a double in the gap? Or was there no real plan at all? Just vague suggestions from the coaching staff that sound too much like wishes and hopes: Wouldn’t it be cool if you stole a base here? If only we could figure out how…
I guess this is the problem of a team in the middle of a long downward spiral — you can’t make heads-or-tails out of reality. Devers wagged his finger in the face of logic. He poo-pooed it. Then Cox took over and got stuck in a similar stagnancy. He had trouble remembering the number of outs before, this time, he touched first and blacked out.
It’s a sorry state of affairs made all the more sorry when next to excellence.
Logan Webb was excellent. Maybe not excellent excellent, but way better than a lot of other things we’re seeing done in a Giants uniform. Webb limited Miami to 2 runs (the most he’s allowed in a start since his return from the IL) on five hits while striking out 5 over 8 innings pitched.
Webb has gone 8 innings in each of his last three starts, becoming the first Giant to do so since Madison Bumgarner in 2015. He was nearly the first Giant since Juan Marichal in 1966 to throw 8 innings in three consecutive starts without giving up a walk, but Kyle Stowers broke his streak at 21.2 innings with two outs in the 4th.
A rare free base from Webb, and in keeping with the weekend trend, one that came back to haunt him when Otto Lopez punched a low liner past Luis Arraez into right-center. What looked like a simple single, setting up runners at the corners, just took forever to get wrangled and returned to the infield. Centerfielder Drew Gilbert, positioned towards left, had to sprint a long way and slide to keep the ball from getting past him. He overthrew his first relay man in his haste and Adames’s throw home was rushed and offline. Stowers scored easily from first to put Miami up for good.
It was probably this play that Vitello had in mind when he swapped Devers for Cox. A well-placed, hard-hit ball that doesn’t even need to roll to the wall can score a run — only for Miami, only if you’re Stowers. While the rest of his team scuffled against Webb, the lefty bat bested him twice. Before the walk, he ambushed a first pitch sinker in the 2nd for the first run of the game.
Casey Schmitt was the Giants’ off-brand Stowers, going 2-for-4 with an RBI. He’s now logged multiple hits in six straight games and gone 14-for-27 across his last seven. He punched in San Francisco’s only run off Miami starter Ryan Gusto with two outs in the 3rd.
With two outs in the 8th, he torched a Michael Petersen fastball 399 feet to dead center that most people in the building had thought tied the game. But the ball died at the warning track, knocked down by the stiff breeze of the stadium’s A/C.
Schmitt thought he had got all of it and then some. Shocked at the unfortunate turn, all Schmitt could do at inning’s end was hang his helmet and gloves on first base coach Shane Robinson and cry out in disbelief.
After watching this weekend sweep, we’re all wondering the same thing, Schmitty.
