Saturday’s Giants-Athletics game at O.co Coliseum seemed like an unremarkable game on paper. The lone AL team that had been eliminated from the playoff race taking on a team that was fighting for its slim playoff life, needing miraculous runs in opposite directions by both them and the Dodgers.
But of course, both teams flipped the script this week. The retiring Tim Hudson was scheduled to start the Saturday game for San Francisco. The A’s announced they’d be starting Hudson’s former rotation-mate, Barry Zito, in the matchup. Their former teammate Mark Mulder would also be in attendance at the game, throwing out a ceremonial first pitch along with Hudson and Zito. It was going to be an awesome experience.
Then the game started, and things got awkward.
Neither of the two pitchers had much of anything in the tank. Hudson pitched just 1 1/3 innings for the Giants, allowing one hit, three runs (two earned), walking three, and striking out none. He threw 34 pitches, and just 12 went for strikes. It was a sad performance after a trio of serviceable starts earlier this month.
When Bruce Bochy came out to pull the struggling Hudson, the A’s fans gave him a tremendous ovation.
Zito didn’t pitch much better. He went two innings, gave up four runs on six hits, walked one batter, and struck out none.
Like Hudson, he left the field to a raucous standing ovation from the Oakland crowd.
Maybe I’m alone here, but the outings by Hudson and Zito on Saturday left me feeling strange. I understand the nostalgia trip – the idea of the two former aces squaring off in a relatively meaningless game at the end of the season sounded like such a fun idea. But neither pitcher has their A-game anymore. Throwing them out there for a couple of innings, a few interviews, and several ovations seemed a bit out of place.
I don’t want to remember these two this way. I don’t want to remember the last time I saw Tim Hudson and Barry Zito on the mound as this game. But here we are – Hudson’s retiring, Zito’s probably joining him, and they both went out with whimpers instead of roars. Could we really have expected any more, though?
