[h1]Tim Lincecum's struggles a Giant mystery[/h1][h3]By Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY[/h3]
ANAHEIM, Calif.–
San Francisco Giants ace
Tim Lincecum took the team bus back to his hotel room Tuesday night, called the 425 area code on his cellphone and undraped his soul for 1½ hours, not hanging up until nearly 2 in the morning.
Lincecum, the two-time
Cy Young Award winner and four-time All-Star, admits he was desperate to talk. He needed someone who understands him. Someone who empathizes with his fear.
Chris Lincecum, his father, best friend and mentor, picked up the phone in his Seattle home. The two talked about everything else until finally discussing the event that could determine Tim Lincecum's fate.
This start, today against the
Oakland Athletics at Oakland-Alameda County Stadium, has Lincecum suddenly pitching for his life.
One more dreadful performance, and Lincecum realizes it might be his last this month. He likely would be yanked out of the starting rotation, permitting everyone to publicly dissect his struggles, giving the Giants' brain trust time to figure out what to do.
"I've never gone through anything like this in my life," Lincecum told USA TODAY Sports. "I've set the bar high for myself, and I know I'm not coming through. I've been wearing these (expletive) losses hard. Real hard. This game is my passion, and this is killing me. I know I'm going to come out of this eventually. I just wish I knew when."
The Giants, fighting to stay close to the Los Angeles Dodgers in the
National League West, are running out of patience. Lincecum is 2-8 with a 6.19 ERA, the worst among all qualifying starters in baseball. The Giants are 10 games below .500 (2-12) when Lincecum pitches, 16 above .500 (36-20) when anyone else starts.
"It's tough," teammate
Barry Zito says. "You feel like you don't belong. You feel like you're not helping your team."
Yet this is new territory for Lincecum, considered one of the best pitchers in the game today. He is the first pitcher to win two
Cy Young Awards in his first two full seasons. He's the third player since
World War I to lead the National League in strikeouts three consecutive years, with a majors-leading 31 games of 10 or more strikeouts, setting a franchise record.
These days, he hasn't had a 10-strikeout performance in 22 starts — the longest drought of his career. Batters are hitting .265 off him, the highest mark of his career, and the .812 OPS (on-base-plus-slugging percentage) is 128 points higher than his worst season.
Lincecum not only is winless since April 28, but the Giants have lost his last nine starts. He has yielded four or more runs in 10 of his 14 starts, lasting more than seven innings once.
"When those things happen," Zito says, "there are always consequences to pay."
Zito, the 2002
Cy Young Award winner with the Athletics, knows the feeling. He signed a seven-year, $126 million contract in 2006 and has gone 48-66 with a 4.53 ERA since. He wasn't on the postseason roster in 2010 when the Giants won the
World Series.
What's the next move?
Scouts who have followed Lincecum this season note the differences. Said one veteran
West Coast scout, who spoke to USA TODAY Sports on the condition of anonymity because he's not authorized to discuss players: "It's hard to believe it's the same guy. His velocity is down, and his fastball is straight.
"You can tell he's just not right. You almost have to write off this season and see how he comes back next year. If he doesn't learn how to pitch, all bets are off on him."
The Giants don't know whether this is a blip on his radar, a lost season or if he's at the crossroads of his career.
"He's struggling, no doubt about it," Giants pitching coach
Dave Righetti says, "and it's been going on for a while now. We've talked about things we can do, but we just don't know yet. I don't want to put negative thoughts out there now before his next start. If we decide he needs a break, he'll get one. We have no choice.
"I know he's not going to run away from it. We're not going to hide from it, either."
If Lincecum struggles again tonight, the Giants tentatively are planning on skipping Lincecum for at least one start. Maybe even longer to give him a mental break and sort out his woes in the bullpen. A demotion to Class AAA Fresno is a possibility, but it's not a realistic option if they want to retain Lincecum in their long-range plans.
"Here's a two-time Cy Young winner, a four-time All-Star, a World Series champion, and send him to the minors?" Chris Lincecum said, his voice rising. "You do that, and what you're basically telling the player is, 'We don't need you or respect you.' And this is the kid who helped bring a championship to the city of
San Francisco for the first time in over 50 years?
"It's like people forget what he's done. It's like, 'What the (expletive) do I have to do. What more do you want? I gave you two Cy Youngs. I was a major contributor to the World Series. And you crucify me now?' "
Lincecum, who rejected the Giants' overtures of a five-year, $100 million extension this offseason, instead opted for a two-year, $40.5 million deal. He'll be eligible for free agency after the 2013 season, which leaves the Giants in a difficult position.
"You keep saying (expletive) like this, and he'll want to go away. This is the face of the franchise … and now that he's struggling, as all players do at some point, this is the (bleep) respect he gets? You're crucifying him.
"It's like the media is hoping he fails so they'll have something to write about. If they're trying to get him to leave that city, they're (bleeping) on their way."
Weighty issues
Lincecum, wearing a cut-off T-shirt with a kitty-cat on front and pink ribbons on the back, is in the workout room of the visiting clubhouse at Angel Stadium, doing his arm stretching exercises. Not too many dudes can pull off this ensemble. He might have just turned 28 last week, but he still has the face, body and shoulder-length hair of a junior high kid.
"He's such an enigma right now," Giants manager
Bruce Bochy told USA TODAY Sports. "They're not missing his mistakes at all. He'll look so good for three or four innings, and then they'll get him.
"But I will say this for him — I've never seen him work out harder in between starts. I don't know what he did in the offseason, but he's working out harder than I've ever seen him."
Lincecum tipped the scales at 167 pounds this week. He has gained about 10 pounds since the season started. It's the ideal weight for his generously listed 5-11 height. He dropped an alarming 30 pounds in the offseason.
"His whole body changed, and that weight can affect your mechanics as well," Righetti said. "I don't give a damn what his weight is, but I know what too big is and I know what too little is. He showed up too little."
Lincecum says he needed to lose weight. He felt strong, pitching 217 innings and yielding a 2.74 ERA last season, but his knees were starting to get sore. His shins didn't feel right. He spent the offseason swimming and gave up
In-N-Out Burger.
He now thinks he should have pitched more during the offseason. He was so concerned about his weight, he might have neglected the arm. He coughed up a 5.70 ERA and .326 batting average in spring training, and the stats were dismissed as meaningless. Yet when those struggles last 14 starts into a season, panic sets in.
Lincecum, who once dominated the opposition in times of trouble, is yielding a .292 batting average with a .399 on-base and .446 slugging percentage with runners on base this season.
He no longer can put away hitters with his offspeed pitches, yielding a .436 slugging percentage on those pitches, even when ahead in the count, according to
Inside Edge.
Lincecum, who at one point could throw 98 mph and average 95 mph, is down to 90.3 mph. He has never had great control. And now that his velocity has diminished, hitters no longer are swinging at pitches out of the strike zone. The result is a career-worst 4.8 walks per nine innings.
"It's almost like I'm pitching backwards now," he says. "Like I'm a wuss thrower. I've got to start utilizing my fastball."
The Giants changed Lincecum's delivery, hiding the ball in his glove now instead of dangling it behind his back.
"It used to be, two runners on and no outs," Lincecum says, "and it was like, 'I'll get a double play and strike out the next guy.' That was the arrogance I had, knowing I could dig deep and get out of it.
"Now I give up a couple of walks, and it's like, 'How am I going to get out of this? Is this the inning they get me?' That doubt creeps into your mind.
"It's almost like you're waiting for something bad to happen."
Lincecum is dealing with this anguish better but still finds himself waking up in the middle of the night, working on a phantom delivery in his mind.
"I wouldn't say I'm getting accustomed to it now, but I'm learning to deal with it better," Lincecum says. "Whether it's mental or mechanic, I can deal with this. I can persevere.
"I know it sounds really selfish, but I want to think this team needs me. And I need it."
