The San Francisco Giants are not just bad—they’re historically bad. While teams like the Mets, Phillies, Angels, Red Sox, and Nationals have all endured frustrating seasons, the Giants have taken ineptitude to a new level, embodying the phrase “winning backwards.”

As of this writing, the Giants sit at 13-20, tied for the second-worst record in the National League. They share this ignoble distinction with Team McKinney, sitting two games ahead of Team Roth and a mere half-game in front of Team Kalaf. It’s a brutal reality for a franchise that once dominated the sport.

What makes the Giants’ struggles particularly egregious is not just their record, but how they lose. Their games are the shortest in baseball, averaging just 2 hours and 36 minutes—faster than even the most condensed affairs in the league. This efficiency in losing is achieved through a masterclass in offensive futility. The Giants have scored fewer runs than any team in MLB, managing barely three per game. To put that into perspective, their team total of six home runs this season is only one more than Chicago Cubs rookie Munetaka Murakami has hit on his own.

Offensive metrics paint an equally grim picture. The Giants rank near the bottom in nearly every category, trailing only the Mets and Phillies in most advanced measurements. Their two highest-paid everyday players, Willy Adames and Rafael Devers, are also their least productive, a cruel irony for a team hemorrhaging payroll.

Manager Tony Vitello has drawn criticism for his bullpen management, which some argue resembles a college coaching strategy rather than a major-league approach. His tenure at the University of Tennessee last year—where he managed a three-game series against Auburn—has been cited as a questionable credential for handling high-stakes MLB games.

The Giants’ offensive drought is historic. They have been shut out seven times already this season, scored one run in four more games, and managed just two runs in four additional contests. That accounts for 15 of their 20 losses. In essence, attending a Giants game has become a study in futility: one trip to the concessions stand, one to the bathroom, and a resigned walk to the ferry after the seventh inning.

Source: Defector