My Sentiments Exactly

I was about to sit down and write an angst-filled screed about how this could be the year the Giants, overloaded with mediocre talent and aging veterans, fall from grace (or from Barry's shoulders) and do a fine imitation of the 2002/2003 New York Mets. But Glenn Dickey has beaten me to it. Now, keep in mind this is Dickey's forte: he is the Chicken Little of the Chronicle. But the injuries in spring training and the coming distraction of the BALCO trial loom ominously like the combined career OPS's of Dustan Mohr and Michael Tucker.


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