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Lou Brown-Style Recap: Giants Get Flattened in Game 5, Series Heads Back to San Francisco
Well, hell. You don't win ‘em all, but you sure as hell better show up. That’s more than I can say for my boys today.
We had a shot to put this thing away in Game 5, but instead we looked like we were trying out for a damn beer league. Final score? 9-0, Astros. That ain’t a typo. We didn’t plate a single run. Not even a sniff. Zip. Zero. Zilch. I’ve seen more fight in a wet sock.
Luke Peters — gotta tip your cap. The kid threw a complete-game shutout. Scattered six hits over nine, didn’t walk a soul. Looked like Tom frickin’ Glavine out there. Meanwhile, our lineup couldn’t hit water if they fell outta a boat. That’s not baseball — that’s batting practice for the other guy.
Now let’s talk about the mound. Aidan Stevens? Love the kid’s grit, but he left a lot of pitches over the plate. Four earned in 4.1, and Houston made him pay every time. And don’t get me started on the bullpen — walks, wildness, you name it. If I had a nickel for every free pass we gave up, I’d be on a beach somewhere drinking something cold instead of watching this mess.
Errors? Three of ‘em. Hell, you can’t spot a playoff team extra outs and expect to win. Especially not when they’re stealing bases like it's a damn track meet. Astros were runnin' wild out there — Segovia, Arciniega, Dunham, Delgado… I need a new stop watch just to keep up.
Our bats? Couple of doubles from Linkletter and Ladino, but that was about it. Dominguez, Rudeseal, Edwards — nothing doin’. Nobody drew a walk, which tells me we were swinging at junk. Again.
This was a “clear your sinuses” kind of loss. Smells bad, feels worse.
Look — series is still 3-2 in our favor. We’re going back to San Francisco. That’s our park. That’s our turf. We’ve got a chance to close this thing out at home.
But lemme be real clear: if we don’t show up Tuesday with our heads screwed on straight and our spikes dug in, Houston’s gonna take us to a Game 7 — and then anything can happen.
So enjoy the flight home, fellas. But when we land? It’s time to play like your lives depend on it. Because they damn well might.
Lou Brown
Manager, San Francisco Giants
(Still waiting for someone to learn how to bunt properly)
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