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Thursday, March 28
The Indiana Daily Student

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If you don't love Brandon Crawford, you're wrong

I love Brandon Crawford, no question in my mind. If you don’t love Brandon Crawford, well, you’re wrong.

My first memory of Crawford is of his professional debut — his first at-bat, actually.

Crawford wasn’t supposed to be a hitter. If he could stay above the Mendoza line, the Giants would be happy because of how well he played shortstop.

But still, Crawford stepped up to his first professional at-bat with the bases loaded and sent the ball over the right field wall for a grand slam. From that moment, I loved him.

All the miraculous plays he’d make saving groundballs from bouncing into centerfield and the incredible back-handed plays he’d make deep in the hole only fortified my feelings further.

But I was a minority. Until this season, at least.

Because Crawford could never break through at the plate. He always hovered around .250, unable to square anything up against a left-handed pitcher.

And the pitches he did manage to drive were knocked down by the seemingly impenetrable force field in right field, keeping all lefty power out of San Francisco since AT&T Park’s construction in 2001.

But still, through it all, my love for the long-haired defensive wizard from UCLA persisted. Through all the motions to send Crawford down, all the underappreciation for just how absurdly ridiculous he was in the field persisted, I defended him.

My love for Crawford was also strengthened because I liked to think we were somewhat similar. We aren’t at all, but I don’t want to hear that.

Crawford is from the Bay Area and grew up going to Giants games, just like I did.

Take a moment and Google “Brandon Crawford keep the Giants in SF.” Tell me that picture of him as a 5-year-old boy desperately trying to hold on to what he loved most as the Giants were threatening to leave the San Francisco Bay for Tampa Bay. It’s adorable, and if you can’t see that, we’re not friends and I hate you.

Alright, back to the actual baseball part of this column.

Crawford has always excelled in the field while middling away at the plate. Even out of college, he was drafted in the fourth round for his defense in hopes his bat would catch up with his glove at some point.

That’s how I played baseball. I hit singles and doubles, but because I was fast enough and had a strong enough arm, I was one of the best fielders on all my teams. Defense — and the occasional stolen base — was the extent of my value, but those kept me in the lineup with most managers.

Bruce Bochy is one of those managers who sees past power numbers and understands a player’s full value.

You can’t argue against the success. In three full season with Crawford as the Giants starting shortstop, the Giants have won two World Series, both of which can be directly linked to a few absurd plays by Crawford to save crucial runs late in games.

On Tuesday, Crawford officially became accepted by the rest of the baseball world. He played in his first All-Star Game in a season in which he has a slash line of .262/.331/.465. He has a wins above replacement of 3.9, the highest of his career and the highest among all shortstops this season.

If you still can’t find a reason to love Brandon Crawford, even with the defense, now with the offense, the hometown kid and everyman story line and those incredibly beautiful locks of hair, I can’t do anything for you. You should probably just give up on loving anyone.

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