PHOTO: EAKIN HOWARD
We had a cavalcade of epic guests this week on the show — Buster Posey begat Barry Bonds who begat Bob Melvin who begat Chris Berman who begat Fred Lynn who begat Dwight Evans who begat Dan Shaughnessy — but my favorite line of the week came from none of them.
It came from another epic guest, the great sportswriter (and my friend) Howard Bryant, who said of Posey’s swashbuckling move to trade for All-Star and Silver Slugger Rafael Devers: “Buster understands that you don’t go to see the 2025 San Francisco Giants … you go to see the San Francisco Giants.”
Someone hire this man in a front office.
Wait — we don’t have to, because the Buster Posey-Zack Minasian front office is already putting those words to work.
Posey orchestrated a cojones-out trade with the Boston Red Sox, taking advantage of a mangled situation in Beantown to land Rafael Devers, the sort of bat and presence that makes going to the ballpark worthwhile, for years and years.
And by putting those words to work, we mean all the words that make up all the cliches that we’ve heard in every competitive realm of life:
Risk it for the biscuit. You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take. Never up, never in. Behold the turtle: he only makes progress when he sticks his neck out.
(That last one was a favorite of my Dad’s. I was raised on it, yet mostly lead a timid life with my neck squarely tucked in under my shell. One day, Dad!)
Let’s add one more: When you’re running the San Francisco Giants, the franchise of Mays and McCovey and Marichal and Cepeda and Clark and Mitchell and Bonds and Kent and Posey . . . you go get a star and keep him for years.
You don’t traffic in the anonymity of minute transactions.
Or, as Alec Baldwin’s character in “Glengarry Glen Ross” said, illustrated with a pair of anatomically accurate ornaments: “It takes brass balls to sell real estate.”
Posey’s real estate are ballplayers. More specifically, Giants. Finalize the extension of everyday gamer Matt Chapman. Sign the everyday energy of Willy Adames, slow start notwithstanding. Trade for the everyday pop of a Raffy Devers. All three of those Giants are “jersey-worthy” (shout out Elaine Benes) Giants, and kids who are in elementary school now can count on those names in a lineup until he or she reaches high school.
What Howard Bryant means here is that when the Giants come to town, you know what kind of ball club they bring. The pitching is so darn good, we don’t even mention it anymore. It’s a given, like the consistent beauty of the home creams — that is, when the Giants aren’t making Devers debut in something slightly purple-ish.
But the core of the team will be identified as steady, regular and consistent. Oh, the Giants are coming to town? Let’s go see Chapman play third and Devers rake. Oh, the Giants are coming to town? Let’s go see Logan Webb and Hayden Birdsong pitch. Oh, the Giants are coming to town? Let’s go see Jung Hoo Lee roam center and Willy Adames try to find his swing. (Joshing. Sort of.)
Buster Posey has been on the job less than a year, but it’s clear he took this gig with a self-imposed mandate: Make memories at the yard. One of Posey’s many gifts is his ability to take stock. He used to do it to an opposing hitter in the box. Or to his pitcher’s stuff that day.
When he took over the Giants, he took stock and saw an identity missing. He briefly pounded his fist on the desk, and essentially said, “Let’s get this team back.”
Ballgame tonight. Enjoy it.