Carbon copy Giants can't get complacent

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Carbon copy Giants can't get complacent

One of the things that has always motivated baseball teams when they go to the winter meetings is, “When can I get the hell out of here?”

In other words, urgency is high early to accomplish the things on the bucket list, so that by mid-week they can be at the airport. I mean, Nashville’s a nice town and all, but for as much as baseball people see of it, it might as well be Cedar Rapids.

So it is that the Giants had a great winter meetings. They got their two wish-list items fulfilled – Angel Anthony Pagan and Marcos (yeah, with a –s) Scutaro – and so their work is done.

[RELATED: Giants bring back Pagan | Scutaro signs for three years]

Plus, they did it while Brian Sabean was home miserable with what the team described as a respiratory problem. It’s probably that bastard flu that’s been going around, but far be it from us to pretend to be a doctor to a patient we haven’t seen.

Now turn your head and cough.

Sorry. Got lost for a moment there.

What they did was fill the holes they could fill. What they didn’t do, though, is make many changes in the team that sprinted best to the finish line in 2012, and therein lies the burning question, “Is this team too much like the last team?”

This was a problem in 2011, when several members of the All-Parade team didn’t stop celebrating when the streets were cleared. While most folks believe that Buster Posey being knocked into fresh angles was the thing that undid the season, the Giants turned out to be substandard at almost every everyday position, in part because their offense became a lethargic, out-of-shape mess.

There is no metric for it, trust us, but self-satisfaction in several places manifested itself as poorer numbers, with the result being a team so offensively deficient that it was a testament to Bruce Bochy’s skill that he could choke 86 wins out of it.

Sabean swore he would not do that again if he could help it, but the 2013 team looks remarkably like the one that finished 2012, and no, we don’t have any delightful alternatives to that result. We merely point out that the 2013 Giants start out as the 2012 Giants, and this was something the organ-eye-zation had hoped to avoid. But let's compare:

 2012  POS. 2013
 Buster Posey  C  Posey
 Brandon Belt  1B  Belt
 Marco Scutaro  2B  Scutaro
 Brandon Crawford  SS  Crawford
Pablo Sandoval  3B  Sandoval
 Gregor Blanco  LF  Blanco
 Angel Pagan  CF  Pagan
 Hunter Pence  RF  Pence

 

Oh, and the rotation will be the same, too. Maybe in a slightly different order, but the same five gentlemen will take the ball.

If there is still some tweakage to come, it will be subtle, maybe even imperceptible. Maybe they bring Brian Wilson back at a reduced salary and restore him to the closer’s role (why else would you bother?), and maybe they trim the branches on the low end of the bullpen tree.

And there is the matter of depth, which is always going to be an issue. Hector Sanchez and Joaquin Arias, sure, but Blanco will probably need a co-equal in left, and a power-hitting pinch-hitter who has not yet manifested himself would be a nice touch.

But for the most part, those Giants are these Giants. Rosters are not set in stone, and we have seen how midseason course corrections have helped them win two World Series, so this isn’t a crisis.

The lesson that needs to be imparted, repeated and hammered home to any and all is that 2011 happened because such a chunk of the roster was so happy and secure after 2010. The urgency that helps create great teams had gone, and even had Posey not been freight-trained in May, this was too flawed a team in too many places to make the playoffs again. They got, ultimately, what they deserved.

Thus, the Giants will have to be particularly vigilant this winter for signs of sloth, because those who enjoyed the fruits of victory are the same ones they will see come February. If this wants to be one of those teams with dynastic aspirations, it cannot lose a sixth of its offense as it did in 2011, and it cannot keep the party going forever. Winning requires many numbers, but it also demands a keen edge that the 2010 and 2012 teams developed and that the 2011 team never achieved.

And the first test of the 2013 Giants has begun – how to remember the day when 2012 ended, and not try to recreate it in all the ways that turned 2011 into a such a slovenly mess.

Patriots win one for the ages, but where does it rank?

Patriots win one for the ages, but where does it rank?

The price of watching Roger Goodell being booed back to the Bronze Age is a subtle but real one, and one that people will feel very dearly soon enough.

The last great cathartic Super Bowl is now done, with the New England Patriots winning the brilliant and decisive battle to be sports’ new evil empire. In doing so, it rendered Goodell a permanent and risible punch line in National Football League history, the mall cop who wanted the death penalty for littering, and in the words of the song “got what he wanted but he lost what he had.”

True, $40 million a year can make the dissolution of your public persona a reasonably decent tradeoff, but we lost the argument about who won his windmill tilt with the Patriots. It’s done, and he is now permanently and irrevocably a figure of ridicule.

But that’s not the only debating point America lost Sunday night, and while you wouldn’t think it given how much time we are willing to shouting at each other, quality arguments are not easily replaced.

We have almost surely lost the mindless debate about the best quarterback ever, because there is nothing anyone can bring up that the words “Tom Brady” cannot rebut except calling his own plays, and since that is no longer allowed in football, it is a silly asterisk to apply.

We have almost surely lost the equally silly shouter about the best coach ever. Bill Belichick is defiantly not fun, but he has built, improved and bronzed an organizational model that is slowly swallowing the rest of the sport. That and five trophies makes him the equal if not better of the short list of Paul Brown, George Halas, Vince Lombardi, Bill Walsh and Tom Landry.

Plus, Belichick locked up the most absurd response to a question in coaching history Monday when he said, “As great as today feels . . . we're five weeks behind the other teams for the 2017 season.” Even allowing for Gregg Popovich in-game interviews, the so-grim-he-could-make-a-robot-cry worship-the-process response has now become a cliché. If 2017 prep was so important, he should have skipped yesterday’s game, and he definitely should have chosen not to waste so much time on the trophy stand after the game when training camp drills needed to be scheduled.

Oh, and DeflateGate died. Dead. No zombie possibilities here.

We do have a meatheaded argument ahead of us about which championship in the last year is the best, which can be settled here.

1. Leicester City, because 5,000-1 is 5,000-1, and the whole world understands that. Plus, there was invaluable three-month buildup that engaged non-soccer fans.

2. Chicago Cubs, because 108 years is 108 years.

3. New England Patriots, because . . . well, I don’t have to explain it unless you have no useful memory span. “Down 25 In The Third Quarter” is the new “Down 3-1.”

4. Cleveland Cavaliers, because they slayed the first unbeatable Warrior team by coming from 3-1 down, and even as a silver medalist, it will always be an internet meme, which is what passes for memorable in our decrepit culture.

5. (tie) Villanova basketball and Clemson football in a tie, because they were essentially the same great game.

7. The Pittsburgh Penguins, because the Stanley Cup Final was devoid of drama or high moments, and only 14:53 of overtime. Feh.

But everything else is settled, and this Super Bowl will not be topped for a long time. Our current cycle of absurd championships is almost surely going to end soon, because “Down 3-1” has happened twice in eight months (three times, if you count Warriors over Thunder), and the bar has now been placed well beyond reasonable clearing.

Indeed, the only thing left is for a championship team to spontaneously combust on the award stand. But if they do so and ignite Roger Goodell along the way, that would be an ending America would cheerfully endorse.

But that also isn’t an argument any more, and yes, that includes Gary Bettman.

Raiders, 49ers can return to their normal madness after Fried Festivus 51

Raiders, 49ers can return to their normal madness after Fried Festivus 51

The Super Bowl is today, which means the best day of the year is fast approaching.

Namely, the day after the Super Bowl.

At that point, we as a nation can complete the inventory of gastric damage we did to ourselves on what shall be known to future generations as Fried Festivus.

At that point, the people who bombard us daily with news of the game – the least important part of the week-long trade show, as we have come to learn it – will all be on planes and too tired to re-explain what we already saw 37 times on game day.

At that point, nobody will care that Terrell Owens was apparently one of the first of the 15 Hall of Fame finalists to be rejected for induction because of crimes against the NFL state. The Hall of Fame is one of the sneaky ways in which the NFL never lets us escape its obnoxiously shouty profile, and the fact that Owens is right about the flawed process doesn’t change the fact that he’ll be just fine with the process when it allows him passage.

At that point, we’ll know whether Tom Brady is to be deemed a god, or merely maintain his demigod status. At least we’ll hear more about it, because it is easily the most tiresome debate in the football diaspora, engaged in by idiots with no better idea about how to kill time. A note: If you think Tom Brady is a greater quarterback because his team won a fifth ring, or a lesser one because he didn’t, your head is now officially empty enough to be reclassified a dance hall, and you are of no more value to normal society than a papier-mache goose.

And at that point, we can return to the two things we in these parts care to know – where the Raiders are going, and how the 49ers are going to present their new football brain trust.

We needn’t explain the Raiders again to you, first because you’ve heard it all if you’re paying any attention at all. Mark Davis has been trying to cobble deals at a frantic pace in hopes that one will stick, and his 31 fellow owners still have to decide how much longer they want to endure him, while faced with the painful fact that the East Bay is getting out of the exploitative license-to-be-stolen-from stadium business. They also get to know as they go to the meeting in Houston that will ostensibly decide Davis’ fate that they have ruined California as a market by their excessive greed-laced stupidity and deserve every lousy market the state can give them.

Which brings us to the 49ers, and the latest round of Judge Them By Their Press Conferences.

If there is anything worse than this team’s on-field profile, which is why Jed York hired Kyle Shanahan, it is the way it explains itself to the outside world, which is why Jed York hired John Lynch. Both Shanahan and Lynch will be paraded before a braying mobs, probably Tuesday, and York will be there as well for the cheesy photo array and a few unconvincing words of praise about each of them (as a note, Paraag Marathe will be present but only in hologrammatic form).

They will then promise – well, something or other – and Lynch will be hailed as the face of the glorious future because the man he replaced, Trent Baalke, had the public persona of a meth-tweaked hyena. Hard to find, and not worth it when you did.

Then we’ll all remember that the job Shanalynch (or Lynchahan, depending on what part of Ireland you’re from) are being asked to do is a three-year reclamation at the very least, and that the only useful question either can be asked is “Can you fix this before Jed gets embarrassed and angry and cans you both?”

And on Wednesday, there’s the start of pre-draft prep (in order words, The Eighty-Day Slave Market), and the hamster wheel to hell gears up again toward Super Bowl LII.

Only next year, the chances of relocation hysteria and a front office upheaval are that much less, and we haven’t sufficient distractions to make the year go faster.

But enjoy Fried Festivus. We can always look forward to that, even if we change the name back in December to the more traditional "Christmas."