I guess I’m just going to have to call BoMel and offer my services.

I don’t know if you’ve been watching, but the San Francisco Giants are looking for a few answers. It seems that while they are playing major league baseball — and doing quite well at it — they are hitting the ball like Little Leaguers.

So, I’m going to see if maybe the manager can use me. After all, I once hit almost .300 for Fulton Playground in the San Francisco Park and Rec league. OK — almost .250.

I really like Bob Melvin, and I think I can help. Provided, of course, the opposing pitcher throws no more than 65 miles and hour and perfectly straight. When baseball’s started to bend when thrown I made LaMonte Wade, Patrick Bailey, and Willy Adames look like Willie Mays.

Alas, every pitcher in the major leagues is now capable of throwing a ball at speeds that can create a sonic boom, and possesses a changeup that would keep my chiropractor in business for a decade.

It’s all an updated version of Bob Gibson stopping catcher Tim McCarver halfway on an intended mound visit by saying, “Go back behind the plate. The only thing you know about pitching is that you can’t hit it.”

And right now the Giants aren’t hitting it. And it’s being thrown often times by guys who Bob Gibson would eat for lunch.

The Giants don’t just need torpedo bats — they need torpedoes.

The old baseball adage is that one of life’s most difficult skills to master is hitting a round ball with a round bat — squarely. But the way this team is hitting right now, they’d miss it with a tennis racket.

So now they’ve gone south to Miami, to soak up the sun and hope that the balmy breezes and salt sea air can fix all the problems that currently ail them.

So did my grandmother. And her arthritis got better. But she died never having hit a curve ball. I’m hoping for better with the Giants.

Pardon my kvetching

This just seems to be my week of whining, so while I’m on a roll in that regard, let me vent a bit further about the NIL that is throttling college sports in every place except Columbus, Ohio; Athens, Georgia; Tuscaloosa, Alabama; and Austin, Texas.

It seems that we have now reached the point of six major professional sports in America. We’ve always had the NFL, NHL, NBA and MLB, and now let’s give a hearty welcome to the two new additions to the professional sports Hall of Greed, the SEC and the Big Ten.

And for every other college that’s been desperately chasing it’s moment in the sun….thanks so much for trying.

Certainly there are schools where sports has always been a “way of life.” Around here attending college sports events falls more into the category of “an outing.”

This is where the NIL comes in. The “way of life” schools now merely select live bodies from the “outing” schools whenever so much as a glimmer of hope emerges toward intercollegiate success.

Then they pay the athlete a king’s ransom. The athlete becomes just another college millionaire in the Big Ten or SEC, and Cal or Stanford or any of our other local “outing” schools return to mediocrity.

A close friend of mine, who happens to be a rather large donor to Cal Sports said, “Why don’t we just join the Ivy League?” He was only half kidding.

In basketball, the NIL is even more of a kick in the belly. This is a sport where one player can be a difference maker. At the very least, he or she would be a lure to get more quality players in the next recruiting year. But a good player on a mediocre team is almost certainly gone to the highest bidder at seasons’ end, and the coach is left to rebuild what never quite got built in the first place.

I find it particularly upsetting in basketball. We have five coaches in the Bay Area each of whom can really coach. Mark Madsen at Cal is entering his third year and has had to rebuild a program from the ground up every year because of transfers.

Kyle Smith at Stanford has won everywhere he’s been. In such basketball hotspots as Columbia, and Washington State. He deserves better.

The three West Coast Conference coaches in these parts are all amongst the most talented coaches I’ve been around. Herb Sendek at Santa Clara has a coaching tree of former assistants that is as good as any of his peers. He’s had two first-round draft picks in the last three years come out of his program at Santa Clara. But he’s a “my way or the highway” sort, and players recently have opted for the highway — and the money.

Chris Gerlufsen at USF, and Randy Bennett at St. Marys are terrific basketball coaches. Gerlufsen lost his best player, Malik Thomas — who had one more year of eligibility — to Virginia; and Bennett parted ways with his most talented young player Jordan Ross, who left for a reported payday of $1.4-million to go to Georgia.

Here’s the thing about these two guys. They’ll be better this season. Randy Bennett is the “coach’s coach.” He gets four year players and they all get better every year. Two years ago he lost his best player to Connecticut for a half-million dollars. This year that guy’s playing at UCSB and probably making less than he did at St. Mary’s.

Paying players is nothing new to college sports. It’s gone from what they used to call the “hundred dollar handshake” to teams having General Managers with whom players’ agents must negotiate.

Coaches no longer just recruit incoming high school players, they have to recruit the players they currently have on their roster.

They used to say about former UNLV coach Jerry Tarkanian that if recruiting violations where a felony, he’d be on death row.

In this world Tarkanian’s shenanigans would barely be noticed.

I never thought I’d find myself longing for the good old days of under the table money and transcript changing.

Sad.

Barry Tompkins is a 40-year network television sportscaster and a San Francisco native. Email him at barrytompkins1@gmail.com.