Barry Tompkins: Will the real Farhan Zaidi stand up?

There’s an old adage in the television business that when you don’t quite get the big deal you were oh so close to, sliding back into the rhythm of the one you already have – which isn’t so bad – is called a “lateral arabesque.” And I can’t help but think that’s where Farhan Zaidi is right now. In the midst of a lateral arabesque.

Once again, the Giants were sitting at the table having what I’m quite sure were amicable conversations with their peers in both leagues and trying valiantly to pry a productive warm body from them in exchange for one of ours that Farhan could bring home in triumph before the trade deadline. And, once again all that was added in the search for a Rolls Royce was a Ford Pinto that had seen far better days.

I’m inclined to give the Giants a hall pass this time around. They are good, with the possibility of soon being better, and with the end result, maybe in the next couple of years, being great.

Yes, they need another bat and yes, they need at least one more arm amongst their starting pitchers. But at what price? For the first time since Buster Posey, Madison Bumgardner, Brandon Crawford and Tim Lincecum, the Giants are chock full of home-raised prospects. Not all of them will have an impact on the major league team, but it’s too early to tell who might and who won’t.

So, the Giants decided to play the hand they’ve been dealt this year. They’re not going to win the World Series, but it’s not out of the question they could reach the playoffs. And then you simply go out and sign Shohei Ohtani in the offseason and plan the parade for October of 2024.

So, good job in lying low this year Farhan. Now get to work on your Japanese.

I don’t really know Farhan Zaidi, so my observations are skewed by merely standing in the back of the room and doing a psychological profile from afar. My qualifications are that I own a pair of binoculars.

To begin with, Farhan seems like a very nice person. He is smart, educated, pleasant to be around and a man whose mother I believe would be very proud of him. Farhan was a spunky Little League first baseman where he grew up in the Phillippines. That gave him a love for the game of which he is now an innovator and maybe a rising star. Yet I’m going to take a wild guess and say that his on-field exploits were not discussed at the dinner table nearly as much as how he did on that quantum physics exam.

I can remotely relate. My own on-field exploits were rarely discussed over dinner at my house either. But neither was quantum physics. Mine was more like, “When you’re done with dinner, clean out the birdcage.”

Farhan Zaidi strikes me as the kind of guy who might not have been among the first kids chosen in a pick up game, but everybody was really nice to him because they knew – even then – that they’d be working for him one day.

So, it was a very logical segue that when Farhan graduated with his PhD in economics from Cal (Obviously he couldn’t get into Cal as an undergrad and had to settle for MIT), he saw his future as a baseball impresario. After all, the corporate world was already overflowing with numbers wizards intent on making more money yearly than the national debt, and baseball was just beginning to be run by numerical hieroglyphics and not by a tobacco spitting overweight ex-player turned manager who had no business attempting to squeeze into a baseball uniform.

Ted Williams might have been a forerunner of baseball today. And he would despise what he’d refer to as the “pencilheads” in the front office as much today as when his Hall of Fame career was in full swing in the 40’s and 50’s. Williams was the original numbers guy. He had the swing broken down to 100 parts and could explain (ad nauseum) the step, the arc, the breaking of the wrists, and the timing of how you hit .400 (as he did).

I once asked Willie Mays to break down his swing for the baseball audience. He said, “They throw it and I hit it.” I understood that. I couldn’t do it, but I understood it.

But baseball today is Ted Williams times five. Need, success, failure, matchups, pitch count, and even body type are dictated by algorithms. I cannot explain today’s game any further. It was all I could do to spell algorithms correctly let alone offer an explanation of how they work.

That’s why there are the Farhan Zaidi’s of the world. To quote the great Bob Gibson, “The only thing those guys know about a curve ball is that they can’t hit it.” That may be true. But they can tell you the break, the spin rate, the speed, the degree of drop, the movement, and how long a stride you need to have to throw it at peak efficiency.

I have this image of Farhan Zaidi in his ivory tower looming high over Oracle Park behind a giant desk with screens full of data entirely in numerical form, calling upon his MBA minions to discuss the analytical makeup of a high school sophomore in Ishpeming, Michigan who’ll be draft eligible in just two years. “You should see his OPS. He’s got an amazing FIP, a solid BABIP and a better than average UZR.”

WTH!?

Who am I to argue with a Canadian baseball executive who grew up in the Phillippines where the national sport is Arnis – a weapon based martial art that’s been around since 1610 – and speaks a language only spoken by PhD’s in Economics and stats geeks.

So, I’m with you Farhan. And if you ever need my help, I’m damn good at cleaning bird cages.

Barry Tompkins is a 40-year network television sportscaster and a San Francisco native.  Email him at barrytompkins1@gmail.com.