Having digested the Giants' moves of the past couple days (urp), what's most apparent is that Sabean, when backed into a corner because of injuries, has continued the strategy of the winter: when in doubt, stockpile. It's sort of a corollary to one of my favorite U.S. military adages--you know, the one that has won the battle of hearts and minds across the world's jungles and deserts and fruited plains. I can see the T-shirt now, emblazoned with Sabean's grinning skull and the words, "Sign 'em all -- let God (or Felipe) sort 'em out."

I've gotten some snarky e-mail about my support for signing Veres and Crudale and my total freakout over Wayne Franklin. I don't quite get it. Veres and Crudale, when healthy, have done solid, sometimes excellent work at the major league level. Wayne Franklin has pitched well only in the minor leagues against much younger competition and quite badly in the major leagues.

Still, in the grand stockpiling scheme of things, he's not a bad cheap arm to have in case Sabean still hasn't sucked dry his karmic reservoir and, sproing! Franklin jumps out of a cake to become Jamie Moyer South.

(For a much more thoughtful analysis of the recent flurry of moves, click here.)

And now, Kevin Walker, whom I vaguely remember as a San Diego rookie having some good success. Again, if you keep flinging spaghetti against the wall, a strand or two will eventually stick. Or not stick. Whichever one is indicative of ready spaghetti. (I've never really thrown spaghetti against the wall--what a stupid idea. Just pick up a strand and taste it.)

By the way, Elbo reminds me that the phrase we cooked up last year was, "Wayne Franklin: Seldom were sweeter words heard by a National League hitter..."


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