George Kontos
I’ve spent enough time hanging around big league clubhouses to know players remember moments differently than fans do. Fans remember the scoreboard. Players remember the feeling. So when I talked with George Kontos, I kept coming back to the same questions: What does it feel like to walk into a championship clubhouse? What’s it like when a ballpark starts shaking after a walk-off? What does it mean when 44,000 people show up every night no matter what? Kontos pitched on two World Series teams in San Francisco, and listening to him talk, you realize something pretty quickly: the memories aren’t just about the rings. They’re about the place—and the people who filled it.
You joined the Giants in 2012 after being traded by the Yankees. What was it like walking into a clubhouse with stars like Buster Posey, Brandon Crawford, Pablo Sandoval, Hunter Pence, Matt Cain—guys already building a championship culture?
It was surreal. I’d spent my whole career trying to make it with the Yankees, and suddenly I’m traded and reporting to a completely new organization. I drove over the Bay Bridge from Fresno for my call-up, seeing San Francisco for the first time. You see the city, the bay, the ballpark—it hits you right away that this place is special.
The first guy I met was Matt Cain. Then Tim Lincecum walked in—someone I already knew from the Cape Cod League. Three days later Cain throws his perfect game. That was my introduction to playing in San Francisco. We’re celebrating a perfect game with champagne, and suddenly you feel like you belong with this team.
You also had that huge moment against the Dodgers late in the season. Do you remember that?
Absolutely. Dodger Stadium was packed—66,000 people. Standing room only. The rivalry was intense, and they were fighting for a playoff spot. I came in with Shane Victorino on third and had to face Matt Kemp, who was basically the best player in baseball that year.
I fell behind, then struck him out swinging. I went nuts. Our whole dugout was on the top step. That moment earned me the respect of my teammates. Two days later Bruce Bochy shook my hand and told me I was on the postseason roster. That’s when it really felt real.
What was the vibe of that clubhouse? How did those stars set the tone?
Everyone brought something different. Pablo Sandoval had this joyful energy. Buster Posey was our quiet leader—I always called him Captain America. He led by example and rarely raised his voice, but when the team needed it, he could command the room.
Then Hunter Pence arrived and brought this incredible passion. He gave a speech before Game 3 of the NLDS against Cincinnati when we were down two games to none. He said we needed to play for each other, not try to do it alone. After that, we started doing this chant together before every game.
What made those teams special was culture. Nobody was trying to be “the guy.” We genuinely liked each other. We’d have dinners with a dozen guys together. That chemistry is a huge reason we won.
One moment fans always talk about is Travis Ishikawa’s pennant-winning home run in 2014. What was that like from the dugout?
Pandemonium. I was standing at the far end of the dugout where the relievers usually hang out. As soon as he made contact, everyone jumped over the rail before the ball even landed. The stadium was shaking.
It’s amazing because Travis wasn’t some superstar. He’d struggled and bounced around during his career. But that swing changed everything. When you hit a walk-off like that to send your team to the World Series, you’re forever part of the history of that franchise.
Giants fans are famous for their loyalty. What did their support mean to the players?
Words really can’t describe it. Every game felt packed. Even when we weren’t playing well, the stadium was full. I think there were more than 500 straight sellouts.
When fans show up every day like that, it gives you energy. You might have a terrible outing, but you know those fans will be back tomorrow believing in you again. And when you win, you’re creating memories that those fans will share with their families for the rest of their lives.
That bond between the players and Giants fans is really unique.
You mentioned something earlier about the “band of brothers” feeling on those championship teams. What does that really mean?
People don’t realize how much time you spend together. The season is six months, but guys report to spring training two months before that. If you go deep into October, you’re with the same 25 guys for eight or nine months.
You see them more than your family. You celebrate great moments together, and you’re there for each other when life gets hard too.
When you win championships with those guys, those memories last forever. Years later when you see each other again, it feels like no time has passed. That’s why we really do call ourselves a band of brothers.
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More from George Kontos
NOTE: The above was edited for clarity and length.
You can read the full transcript here.