It seems my criticism of Tony Vitello’s bizarre press conference on Monday struck a nerve with some of the Giants’ blind faithful, because I’ve heard from countless black-and-orange supporters claiming I have it out for the team and their new skipper.
And while I’m sorry they didn’t actually read my column — or, frankly, anything I’ve written over the last few months — I was thrilled to hear from them.
At least I know they’re awake. Forgive me for wondering if that was the case before this week.
Because the most damning thing to come out of camp recently wasn’t any of the strange, buyer’s remorse-tinged bellyaching from Vitello on Monday. No, it was Buster Posey’s interview on KNBR last week, and I didn’t hear an ounce of outrage about it.
And now that I have your attention again, Giants fans, I’d like to relay what he said:
“Look, I get it, from a fan’s perspective, they want us to go out and sign every marquee free agent. That sounds great in theory, but that’s not reality.”
That, folks, was grade-A gaslighting.
It’s a fundamentally ridiculous framing — an anchoring tactic designed to make any reasonable request for competence look irrational.
No one was out here suggesting the San Francisco Giants sign every free agent. No one was seriously expecting a fantasy draft where two Kyles (Tucker and Schwarber), Dylan Cease, Edwin Diaz, and Michael King all landed at Oracle Park in a single winter afternoon. Even the Dodgers, the cartoon villains of spending, kind of sort of have a limit.
But how about signing any one of consequence this offseason?
I can be more specific: How about a closer? There were a half-dozen legitimate ninth-inning arms on the market, and the Giants landed zero. How about a top-line starter to make a big three? Or how about some actual depth in the rotation rather than a prayer circle for health and prospect progression? How about a backup catcher who can hit?
I won’t even re-hash my gripe with the Luis Arraez signing — we’ll see how that plays out. (Though I fully expect to hear from a good number of you about that in a few months with the subject line “You were right.”)
Instead, Posey and the front office have resorted to business as usual. After a year of honeymoon spending —Matt Chapman, Willy Adames, trading for the bulk of Rafael Devers’ contract — the Giants’ 2026 pickups were a buffet of mid-tier, minimal-market, lets-take-a-low-stakes-gamble free agents. It’s Tyler Mahle. It’s Adrian Houser. It’s Harrison Bader. All fine players in a vacuum.
But as a collective? It leaves you asking, “That’s it?”
This is the baseball equivalent of buying a couple of scratch-offs at a gas station and calling it an investment strategy.
No one is advocating for reckless abandon. But how about spending to the luxury tax line?
Because the San Francisco Giants are anything but poor. This is not a small-market team scraping by on local goodwill; they are the sole big-league baseball team in a massive market that is arguably the richest in America.
The books prove business is booming. According to CNBC, this franchise brought in $533 million in revenue in 2024. That was the third-highest mark in Major League Baseball, trailing only the Yankees and the Dodgers, and every indicator suggests that number will go up on the 2025 books.
This organization also reportedly has debt levels that would make Dave Ramsey weep with joy — a measly 4 percent of value. (The Dodgers are at 10 percent; the Rangers and Padres are at 25.)
This team cleared $65 million a year before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization — third-best in baseball, per CNBC.
Add in the fifth-highest overall valuation in the sport, and you have a juggernaut money-making operation with some nice, clean books. It’s a great business. It’s a great investment.
So why isn’t that investment being put back into the on-field product at a commensurate rate?
Why does this team’s projected luxury-tax payroll sit at 12th in the league, per Fangraphs?
Posey, the player, understood that winning takes far more than lip service. But Posey, the executive, seems content to manage a massive talent debt to the Dodgers that grows larger by the day.
The Giants are betting on the upside of a bullpen that has already been strip-mined of talent. The Dodgers have at least four healthy bullpen arms that would close for San Francisco right now. If you include the guys on the IL, it’s six. (And the bullpen was the Dodgers’ weak point last year!)
The Giants’ 3-4-5 in the rotation is Mahle, Houser, and a youngster — probably Landen Roupp. The Dodgers counter with Shohei Ohtani, Emmet Sheehan, and Roki Sasaki. (To say nothing of Blake Snell, River Ryan, Gavin Stone, or Landon Knack.)
Posey seems to want to pass this off as prudence. It’s not prudent; it’s paralyzed.
The best-case scenario is that this is a front office terrified of making a big-money mistake, so they make the biggest mistake of all: betting on mediocrity.
The worst-case scenario is that they’re cheap.
At least when Farhan Zaidi was in charge, they leaned into that false narrative of prudence by constantly working the bottom of the roster. I don’t see that happening here.
If the goal is to just hang around, win 81 games, and pray for a Wild Card spot, then congratulations — mission accomplished.
But don’t tell the fans who pay some of the highest prices in the league that they are out of touch for expecting one of baseball’s truly rich teams to act like it. It’s the fans’ money funding this whole thing, after all.
A bad team can be entertaining. A rebuilding team offers hope. A mediocre team that refuses to spend money that it absolutely has is just a bad relationship you can’t break up with.
I’m sorry to say it, but the Giants are currently one Logan Webb injury away from third or fourth place.
A true fan would hold their team — especially this team — to a higher standard than that. Because they deserve better.
Yet, the only thing the Giants seemed willing to spend freely this offseason was those true fans’ patience.
And it seems they’ll get away with it, all because there will still be troves more that will gleefully sign off and defend anything that’s black and orange — as weird, bizarre, or downright embarrassing as it might be.
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