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[Insert Heartfelt Barry Zito Tribute]

September 26, 2013

Barry Zito, man. What a ride?

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According to Grant over at McCovey Chronicles, Zito threw 19,278 pitches in a Giants uniform. Felt like more, didn’t it? I mean, Zito has only been here since 2007, but doesn’t it also sort of seem like he’s always been here?

Then, in the end, the Zito we took was equal to the Zito we made. He looked good, he looked bad; he located, he tossed up BP garbage; he allowed runs, he wriggled out of jams. The Giants won, thanks in part to Barry Zito. There was polite applause, but no big curtain call. There was Zito.

Next year, barring a Sabean peyote binge and/or the mysterious disappearance of 3/4 of the world’s available starting pitchers, there won’t be Zito. I’m actually going to miss him, or the idea of him anyway. I never hated Zito; didn’t even strongly dislike him. What I absolutely will not miss, at all, is watching him pitch. Which is a weird paradox — I can’t think of another player whose last game elicited such an unsettling combination of nostalgia, joy and indifference.

Actually there is one. And his name is also Barry.

What a ride.

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