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The love, the hate, the Giants offseason



What a week — heck, what an off-season — for the love/hate Giants crowd.

Was it Freud or John McGraw who said that love and hate are the same emotion? Man, who knew the good doc Sigmund bled orange and black.

This week alone encapsulated the wild swings of the soul.

First came the news that Renel Brooks-Moon, who is about as beloved a public address announcer not named Bob Sheppard or Roy Steele (shout out my guy Tonelli down near the South Bay Salt Ponds) gets, is gone from Oracle Park.

What? Renel? The enthusiastic-voiced former morning DJ who has brought energy, cool and Bay bona fides to the shores of McCovey Cove since the first pitch? 

That the Giants still haven’t given a good explanation why they parted ways has only baffled — and infuriated — legions of fans. And right before Opening Day?

Cue the Blake Snell signing. 

What? Blake Snell? The shiniest toy on the free agent market who brings instant multi-Cy Young street cred to Bob Melvin’s Giants and, in light of the Cactus League adds of Matt Chapman and Jorge Soler, earns los Gigantes a legit invite to the NL “cool kids” party? 

Now the average Giants fan is stuck with that conundrum: 

On the one hand, Renel!?! That’s family! What the . . . ?

On the other hand, Snell! Whoa, Giants gonna go to Dodger Stadium and shove?

Heck, it was like that all off-season. One Jock Blog, I’m out here weeping Humm Baby tears over the hire of Bob Melvin and the add of Matt Williams. Next Jock Blog, I’m miffed and asking Farhan why he didn’t trade for Dylan Cease or just do *SOMETHING, ANYTHING* to make the Giants relevant or exciting.

One Jock Blog of love. One Jock Blog of hate.

Like a ping-pong rally with your Giants heart.

You think you were confused? Try being Shohei Ohtani and his partying interpreter, the Kato Kaelin of MLB, trying to figure out how to bet the Giants over/under win total. 

Hey, oh! What, too soon?

In the end, the enduring bond with the club wins out. Of course I will miss Renel and her boundless energy. She’s a wonderful colleague and friend. It was an honor to drape the orange Junior Giants Hall of Fame blazer over her (significantly buffed) shoulders. Of course I am miffed that she and the Giants couldn’t figure out whatever ailed them.

And to be honest, lately I’ve personally had to learn these kinds of brutal corporate lessons a little too much.

But on the field, Farhan did the damn thing. So did managing general partner Greg Johnson, who weathered Hurricane “Somewhat Break Even” and found shore safely on Luxury Tax Island.

After a winter of roster discontent, the Giants have an everyday center fielder and leadoff man, an everyday third baseman and clubhouse leader, a DH who can hit Galarragian bombs, a tight-panted former Cy Young-winner in waiting and now the dude with the nastiest stuff — even the analytics crowd will agree! — in the league.

Despite my many misgivings with the Gabe Kapler Era — brought to us by Farhan, don’t you know — I have to give Zaidi a big fat “A” grade for this offseason, headlined by the hiring of Melvin . . . which played a huge role in the likes of Chapman and Snell calling The City home.

Farhan had nothing to do with the Renel move, I’m fairly certain. He did have everything to do with the Giants able to throw punches with the Fightin’ Point Spreads down in Chavez Ravine. 

It’s these conflicting emotions of being a fan. The love, the hate. Freudian baseball.

In the end, Opening Day wins. The Giants will matter this year.