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San Francisco Giants: 3rd NLCS appearance
1915 1916 1917
[In the unmistakable rhythm and voice of Jackie Mason:]
Lemme tell ya somethin’. You ever see a baseball game where nobody wanted to win, but somebody had to? That was this one right here. The Giants and Phillies playin’ like two old men fightin’ over the last blintz at a deli—nobody’s fast, everybody’s spillin’ things, but in the end, somebody walks away satisfied.
So the Giants win it, 10 to 9. That’s not a baseball score, that’s a deli counter number. You walk in, “Who’s next?” “Oh, it’s number 10!” And that’s the Giants, movin’ on to the next round. The Phillies? They’re goin’ home to rethink their life choices.
Now listen to this—fifteen hits for the Giants, thirteen for the Phillies. You think with all that hittin’, you’d see a clinic. A masterpiece. A thing of beauty! But it was chaos! Errors, walks, bad decisions—it looked like a bingo night exploded on a baseball field.
You got this kid, Contreras—Ricky! The guy's hittin’ everything. .538 for the series! I’ve seen less consistency in my cousin Louie’s marriages. The guy’s rippin’ doubles, knockin’ in runs like he’s payin' off debts. MVP of the series? Of course! He was the only one who knew what time the game started!
Then you got Moser, Dominguez, Rudeseal... these names, I tell ya, it sounds like a law firm. “Moser, Dominguez & Rudeseal—injured in a playoff game? Call now!” But they all hit, they all scored, even the guy who sells peanuts probably got a base hit the way it was goin’.
Meanwhile, the Phillies—they were tryin’, don’t get me wrong! They came out swingin’. They were up, they were down, they were back up again! It was like a cardiogram with spikes! And this Farnsworth guy? Triple, couple RBIs, runs the bases like he’s got somewhere to be. Which is more than I can say for their bullpen!
And don’t get me started on the pitching. Luevanos for the Giants, he gave up eight hits in three innings! Eight! That’s not a start, that’s an invitation. “Come on in! Take a base, take two, we’re very generous!” And Sandbulte for the Phillies? Gave up five runs in two-thirds of an inning. That’s not relief, that’s sabotage!
You had three errors from the Giants, wild swings, hit batsmen—it wasn’t a game, it was a bar mitzvah with bats! Everybody's runnin', dancin', celebratin', nobody knows who’s in charge.
And now the Giants move on again. Third straight League Championship Series. They’re like your aunt Sadie—never invited, always shows up anyway.
So what happens next? They wait to see who wins between the Reds and the Mets. Either way, it’s gonna be more tsuris. More headaches. More heart attacks. But this is October baseball, ladies and gentlemen. It’s not supposed to be good for your blood pressure. It’s supposed to be memorable.
And lemme tell ya—this one? Oy. We’ll remember it all right.
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