SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. — Say hello to a Jock Blog being scribbled in the Scottsdale Stadium press box, endless blue sky in front of me, thrill of the grass underfoot.
How can you not be romantic about The Giants Way, after all?
That’s today’s topic, ball fans: Just what IS The Giants Way?
All right, all right, smart aleck. I hear your one-liners. Insert Farhan marginal transaction joke here. Insert Dodgers-on-another-planet joke here. Insert $20-beer price, 80-win roster joke here.
I hear ya. And at times over the past few years, I’ve been spewing salty one-liners too; particularly when the Giants fail to move a runner over, or throw to the wrong base, or strand a runner at third with nobody out.
But it’s 2025, and you don’t want to disappoint Buster Posey. So try to find yourself falling in love with The Giants Way.
By the way, that thing about not wanting to disappoint Buster Posey? That’s a thing. Logan Webb said it out loud. Others implied it during our trip down here. Buster has a thing about him. He has a standard, and a quietness about his standard that makes the Giants think: “Oh, man. Buster just walked into the clubhouse. I better tidy up.”
Or, as Webb said: “He’s like that Dad you don’t want to disappoint.”
So maybe that’s The Giants Way. The Giants Way is Buster’s Way. And Buster’s Way is preparation and professionalism. Oh, and winning. And the winning comes because of your preparation and your professionalism. The winning comes because it’s Buster’s Way.
For those of us at a certain age, The Giants Way used to be different. It used to be to slug it. Willie Mays and Willie McCovey and Orlando Cepeda defined the San Francisco Giants for the first 15 years of the club’s existence in The City. They gave way to names like Jack Clark and then a surge of Will Clark and Kevin Mitchell, eventually giving way to Jeff Kent and — what was that guy’s name again? — oh, that’s right: Barry Freaking Bonds. Not so much pitching. More big swings.
The Dodgers were the team with the pitching through that whole thing we call the 20th century: Koufax, Drysdale, Valenzuela, Hershiser.
So that was what we grew up with, the Boomers and the Gen X’ers. Dodgers pitched it. Giants slugged it.
Turns out times change, as I was just saying to the rocket-powered phone/camera/Rolodex/almanac/weather predictor/bank account/fantasy sports app charging on my nightstand.
When Tim Lincecum, Madison Bumgarner and Matt Cain put on the home creams and won three World Series championships in a gorgeous but cavernous ballpark on Third and King, the Giants became the pitching club. And the defense club. And the “little things” club; winning one-run games under Bruce Bochy with a core of four trotting in from the bullpen and Posey himself calmly directing traffic behind home plate.
That’s the 2025 message we gleaned in two days of packed interviews on KNBR from Scottsdale: Get back to being THAT club.
The “new” Giants Way: Pitch it. Catch it. Grind it.
Don’t worry so much about the home runs. It’s been a while since a Giant hit 30, after all.
So from Willy Adames’ enthusiasm to Matt Chapman’s game day-‘tude to Patrick Bailey’s glove-first lifestyle to Matt Williams’ “take advantage of a ball in the dirt” mantra to Bob Melvin’s “you may even see some bunts and hit-and-runs” easter egg, that’s what I learned in Scottsdale: Buster Posey is here to reinstate The Giants Way, and The Giants Way is not to have Shohei Ohtani or Mookie Betts or Freddie Freeman on the lineup card. (Although no one would complain if they were on the lineup card.)
The Giants Way, whether you endorse it or not, is to grow ‘em from within, and make homegrown products — Posey, Pablo Sandoval, Lincecum, Bumgarner, Cain, Sergio Romo were all locally sourced — take pride in the jersey. Sprinkle in Chapman and Adames. And go grind it.
This is what Buster is selling to the team, in his quiet, calm, don’t-disappoint-him-for-gosh-sakes way.
Whether or not they can achieve The Giants Way? That’s why they play 162, sports fans.
