But I am happy about one move: bringing back Bengie Molina. I was in favor of giving him more than one year to keep him around. But the Giants were able to get him for just a one-year, $4.5 million contract.

It was kind of an afterthought transaction, born out of Molina’s willingness to turn down more money with the Mets. But it may prove to be the Giants most important move for 2010.

I like Bengie’s bat, obviously. “Big Money” has been the Giants best hitter for the past two years -before Pablo Sandoval started to develop. He’s had the best numbers in the post-Bonds era. And if he can hit lower in the order, it will only help him and the Giants.

But what I really, really like is Bengie’s presence in the clubhouse, his influence on the young players and his mastery behind the plate with the talented pitching staff. I found it troubling that the Giants – at one point – seemed so willing to part with a player of so much influence, while admitting that Buster Posey wasn’t ready to be a full-time catcher.

Now they have the best of both worlds – a very good catcher to mentor Posey (and while Bengie seemed, at times last year, reluctant to be shoved out the door in favor of a novice, he seems to have come to peace with that and has already reached out to Posey to start the partnership in the transition of power behind the plate). Meanwhile, the best part of the Giants team – the stellar pitching staff – will be able to rely on Molina’s experience. And the Giants young players – particularly, though not exclusively, the Latin players – will retain their mentor. Molina was instrumental in Sandoval’s emergence last year (and Sandoval has been instrumental in bringing joy to Molina’s late career years: Bengie told me last year that Sandoval was the most inspirational young player he had ever been around).

Molina is a classy veteran, who works hard, respects the game and is eager and willing to impart his knowledge and experience to younger players.

Of all the Giants moves, this afterthought of a deal is the best one.

My prediction is that Lincecum wins arbitration. Ryan Howard set the record with a $10 million arbitration victory after winning the NL MVP.  But Lincecum has won back-to-back Cy Youngs. Isn’t that even more impressive, for such a young player?

I wrote about Lincecum for SI.com today. Here is a link to that column. Howard and Lincecum have been linked before: the Giants played the Phillies the day of Lincecum’s debut and Lincecum was cruising until the third inning, when Howard hit a two-run bomb.

*That the flu – both my own and my daughter’s – puts a real dent in tweeting and blogging. Suddenly lying flat and watching “Across the Universe” becomes much more important.

*That when Eddie D. shows up the party really gets rolling. Still. The event on Saturday night at the Palace Hotel in downtown San Francisco was reminiscent of the high-rolling 49ers of the past – and you have to credit the Yorks for doing it up in style.

The place was packed with superstars and there was a true familial feeling. Even a lowly reporter like me was made to feel that I had been a part of something truly special – and it was. Covering those glory years was a blast, especially compared to the awful football I’ve witnessed in recent years.  I only stayed a short time – had a high school reunion to attend – but needed to pay respects to the Godfather, DeBartolo. Also a chance to see my favorite football coach of all time: George Seifert. Other big names: Steve Young, Jerry Rice, Steve Mariucci, Ronnie Lott, Eric Wright, Charles Haley, John McVay, Roger Craig, Geri Walsh – whose husband Bill was sorely missed. Here is a column I wrote about the night for csnbayarea.com.

* That Cal is a contender for the Rose Bowl and that Jahvid Best is a legitimate contender for the Heisman. I wrote about Best last week for SI.com, and he made me look smart with a five-touchdown Saturday. But I never dreamed that USC would lose to Washington, a team that went winless last year. That changes the whole picture for Cal (pipe down, Cal fans, who have since said to me that they wished they had been the ones to deflower the Trojans. Take what you can).

* That people have a lot of strong feelings about Serena Williams. My column for SI.com generated reams of interesting, well-thought out emails (which were split about 50-50 between, “Thank you, I agree with you,” and “You are a complete moron.”)

* That what Mike Singletary started last year wasn’t a fluke.  When he took over the 49ers midseason, the energy and change was immediate and obvious. That’s why I thought he deserved the job and why I didn’t mind the 49ers hastily handing it to him on the last day of the season.  The vibe and sensibility and accountability he instilled in the second half of last season seems to only have grown.  The 49ers right now are – dare I say it? – fun to watch.

- That JaMarcus Russell is running out time on the “he’s just learning the system” excuse.

- That the Giants are done. Tuesday night’s outing in Colorado was miserable. They’re out of steam and we’re left wondering what’s wrong with Matt Cain, who has only won one game since late July. But it was a fun run while is lasted.

And if the Dodgers were in town, you had to watch your back.

AT&T has a much different vibe. It’s not as cold. It’s not as nasty. And the Giants haven’t completely sucked for as long as they had back in the day (though, in truth, they’ve been pretty sucky lately – just in a nicer environment and with better pitching). But tonight the vibe could get downright Stick-ish.

That’s because this is finally a game with real meaning and urgency between the Giants and the Dodgers.  It’s been a long time.  The Giants haven’t had many meaningful September game recently; these are not only meaningful, but basically must-win games.

Last time the Giants had a must-win game against the Dodgers? Oh, you don’t want to remember. Steve Finley grand slam off of Wayne Franklin on the second-to-last day of the season.

The Dodgers won the division. The Giants finished second.

Since then, they’ve finished third, third, fifth and fourth. September hasn’t held a whole lot of meaning.

But tonight it does.  And despite the $8.75 beers, and the coke slide, and the Cha-cha bowl and the lounges where everyone’s far too comfortable to start a brawl, there should be an edge to the crowd. For one thing, far too many Dodgers fans have felt perfectly comfortable invading China Basin in recent years since tickets have become readily available. That always the recipe for fights – sitting too close to a fan of a different religion.

So there’s going to be plenty of fans in both teams colors. It’s a Friday night, in an economy that’s even worse than the late ’70s, with a bunch of thirsty people who not only want their team to win but are wondering about Buster Posey, worried about Tim Lincecum and irritated by the inability of the team to execute the most fundamental play in baseball.

Dodgers-Giants. And it means something.

The excitement of finally getting a chance to see the prospect the Giants prize above all others is severely tempered by concern over the player the Bay Area prizes above all others. Tim Lincecum was scratched with a back problem, making way for Bumgarner. That raises the specter of concern that followed Lincecum into the draft – that the incredible torque he puts on his small frame is a recipe for injury.

Lincecum, in two seasons, has become the superstar of the Bay Area. He has been elevated to top shelf – not the referential status reserved in the past for Joe Montana and Barry Bonds, because he hasn’t achieved that much yet – but just a notch below. I think the word “beloved” isn’t too strong.

Granted, part of that fast lane to wild popularity is because there’s a huge void in star power in the Bay Area. But it is also because Lincecum is an electrifying presence on the mound and a charismatic personality off – a genuine young phenom who does cartwheels in the clubhouse and looks like the second coming of Joey Ramone.

There’s already sports-talk speculation that this move is just a ploy to let Bumgarner pitch against the lowly Padres and adjust the rotation so that Lincecum gets both the Dodgers and the Rockies at home. No way. There’s no chance the Giants would fool around with Lincecum – his psyche, his starts, his reputation – in the midst of a September race. He’s too valuable to the team. He is, after all, nicknamed “the Franchise.”

If I’d known Bumgarner was going to be on the mound tonight and that the Bay Bridge would be open relieving traffic issues I would have gone to the ballpark tonight. But Rafa and Monfils are in a great match. So it’s remote flipping for me tonight.

At the time I didn’t know what a journey it would be. My goals were simple. I wanted to work at a great paper in an exciting sports market. I also had more basic objectives: to be closer to my parents, to my Bay Area roots and, most of all, to the man I was planning to marry. For both professional and personal reasons the job was right.

Two decades later, as I look back and say goodbye, it’s hard to separate the professional from the personal. It’s all one amazing, memorable tangle.

Four thousand or so stories. Super Bowls and World Series. Four continents. Eight Olympic Games. Two beautiful kids. One solid marriage.

When I left the Los Angeles Times to cover high school sports in the Mercury News’ former Fremont bureau I wasn’t sure where the job would lead. But a high school girl in Fremont helped point the direction. Kristi Yamaguchi was emerging on the scene and — lucky for me — the paper was between Olympic writers.

The opportunity to cover Yamaguchi’s breakout performances at the figure skating national championships in Baltimore and world championships in Paris changed the trajectory of my career. My roles became increasingly more high-profile: covering the San Jose State and 49er beats, and then penning a column.

My world was peopled with some of the biggest personalities of the day: Jerry
Rice, Deion Sanders, T.O. and — for 15 years — Barry Bonds. And some of the biggest battles ever: the 49ers vs. Dallas, Joe vs. Steve, Tonya vs. Nancy, Bonds vs. the world.

I covered an amazing Game 7 win (the Sharks upset of Detroit in 1994) and a devastating Game 6 loss (the Giants’ World Series penultimate game in 2002). I saw conventional sports wisdom turned on its head. The 49ers did trade Joe Montana. The Raiders did return. The nation did stop and care about women’s soccer. The Giants did build a ballpark.

But so many memories are created at the point where job and life intersected. As a newlywed, I made my way through a shellshocked San Francisco to a candlelit hotel ballroom to hear baseball commissioner Fay Vincent’s decision on continuing the World Series after the earthquake. The evening after a somewhat infamous run-in with Charles Haley, I learned I was pregnant. The time I called my copy desk for questions on a pre-NFL draft story — from the delivery room before the birth of my first child.

I was pregnant with my second child during the 49ers’ last Super Bowl run. As the wins mounted and the postgame mobs around Steve Young grew, he would direct the mob to part and let me and my protruding belly to the front of the pack. And on the day he finally won his Super Bowl, my husband and one-month-old waited back at the hotel while I worked into the night. (That baby starts high school next month, a stark reminder of how long it has been since the 49ers’ last championship.)

The joy of the Sydney Olympics will always be tempered in my memory by the anxiety I felt as my father lay in a hospital bed back home. I can’t watch the final day of the Tour de France without thinking of my kids sitting in a tree on the Champs-Élysées, straining to catch a glimpse of Lance Armstrong in 2004.

I’ve gotten to know legends along the way. Some of those who stood out: Dave Stewart, Dusty Baker, Bill Walsh, George Seifert, Tara VanDerveer, Brandi Chastain, Young. Smart, funny people who understand the bigger world beyond the boundaries of their court or field.

There is no more entertaining place on earth than a crowded press box. My colleagues are smart, devastatingly funny and downright amazing. They’ve shown me over the years that sportswriters can do anything. Now I’m going to try to prove them right.

And, you, the readers, have been incredible. We’ve disagreed, shed tears together and shared the passion of sports. It’s been quite a ride and I’ve been happy to take you along on my journey and try to show you the sports world as I see it.

It has been an amazing 21-year adventure. It’s time for a new one. Thanks.