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San Francisco Giants: 1916 World Series Champions (1st title)
LOU BROWN RECAP — GIANTS WIN THE DAMN THING
Well, I’ll be damned.
San Francisco finally did it. The Giants shut the door on the Houston Astros, 1-0, in Game 6, and now they’re callin’ themselves World Champions. And hell, they earned it.
Shamar Beeman? That kid pitched like he had a grudge against baseballs. Seven and a third innings, only gave up two hits and didn’t let a single run cross the plate. The guy was a bulldog out there. Gritty. Mean. Like the time I had to drag Cerrano outta the weight room for batting practice—Beeman wasn’t going anywhere.
Quintana came in to close the damn thing out and didn’t blink. Not once. Kid got ice water in his veins.
Now the offense… yeah, it wasn’t exactly Murderer’s Row, but they scratched one across, and that’s all you needed today. Baca had a nice double. Fisher knocked him in. Nothing fancy—just good, fundamental ball. Like I been screamin’ since spring training.
And let me tell you somethin’, this wasn't some fluke. The Giants didn’t sneak into the playoffs through the back door. They won 104 games, finished first in the NL West, and outlasted everybody. They had heart, they had hustle, and most importantly, they didn’t screw around when it counted.
The Houston boys? They fought hard. But three hits and two errors ain’t gonna cut it when the other guy’s throwing darts. That Goldsmith kid pitched fine, but if you don’t score, you don’t win. That’s just how it goes.
So here we are. San Francisco’s on top of the baseball world, spraying champagne and actin’ like they just stole Christmas. And I say let ‘em. They earned every damn drop.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go ice my knees and have a whiskey. Congratulations, Giants.
—Lou Brown
(Manager, occasional philosopher)
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