I have a few minutes before I go back out for batting practice, so I’m going to write a short post.

I just got in from doing some running. If I’m not in the starting lineup like tonight, I go out with our conditioning coach Carl Kochan almost as soon as I get to the park. Sometimes he has me running, sometimes doing agilities. Today he had me sprinting six times along the curve where the outfield grass meets the infield dirt.

He wanted to me to run from baseline to baseline in 12 seconds. He was excited I did it in 10. The pregame workout keeps me conditioned when I know I’m not going to get much, or any, exercise during the game. And it keeps me loose in case Bochy puts me in.

I know everyone’s talking about our bad road trip. But the way I see it, the bad stuff just makes us stronger. I think things happen for a reason, and this will just make us work harder. We believe in ourselves and in each other. We know things like this happen over the course of a season and that we’re going to snap out of it and be fine. We proved that to ourselves last year.

The high socks in yesterday’s game is an example of how we try always to stick together as a team. It was Pablo’s idea. I think he wanted to do something that would connect all of us. Some guys looked really bad. Affeldt really did. But no one looked funnier than Pablo. Maybe that’s why he chose that particular thing to do, so he could make everyone laugh.

I’ve been wearing the short pants and high socks every Sunday this season. Sundays are a day for God, so I wanted to mark the day by doing something different. So far, I seem to hit pretty well on those days, so I’ll keep doing it.

Let’s hope we get back on track tonight against the Nationals. It’s always great to be back at our park with our fans. Thanks for everything you do!

My 21-year-old brother Gregsman is flying in from Venezuela and will be here for the next home stand. He’s never been to San Francisco. Somebody asked me what is the one thing I want to make sure he sees in San Francisco, and I said, “The ballpark!’’

He is not going to believe this park. How beautiful it is, yes, but mostly he’s not going to believe the crowd. He’s seen me play in Atlanta and Kansas City, but I told him, “Those aren’t the same as here.’’ He’s going to feel he’s back in Venezuela. The fans here get excited like the crowds at home. So I know he’s going to love it. I’ll take him to eat at Benihana in Japantown and the Spanish restaurant Zarzuela on Hyde Street. I’ll make sure he sees the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay Bridge. Everything. There’s so much to see, and he has 12 days, so he’ll get a good look around.

It will mean a lot to me to have him here. Every time I get a hit or make a play, he’s going to feel proud. And that makes me feel proud. But he better not show up without Cocosette and Torontos. They are the best candies in the world. Cocosette is a wafer with coconut cream and Torontos are small balls of chocolate with hazelnut. I’ve never seen them anywhere but Venezuela. So I’m counting on him to come through.

My two-year-old son, also named Gregor, has been coming to the park most days recently. His babysitter brings him as early as 4 in the afternoon, and Gregor will sit with her in the stands by the dugout and watch batting practice. (My wife is busy at home and arrives closer to game time.) He’s really calm and comfortable at the park. He never cries and hardly ever gets cranky. There’s a canvas tarp – maybe six or seven feet long — stretched from the railing on the field to the railing by the first row of seats. During BP the other day, Pablo and I were rolling a ball to Gregor and he was rolling it back, just having the greatest time. At home, he always has a ball and bat and wants me to play with him. I love teaching him and watching him have so much fun.

Every now and then, I’ll bring Gregor into the clubhouse. He’ll just jump on the guys. They play around with him, and he loves it. His favorite player is probably Pablo because he’s so much like a kid himself.

It’s been interesting watching Gregor learn to talk. He doesn’t talk a lot yet, and I think it’s because he’s a little confused about the languages. He listens to us in Spanish and to the TV in English. So he mixes up all the words. He sings Happy Birthday in English but not in Spanish. When he counts, he starts in Spanish and finishes in English. He’ll go, “One, two, three, quatro, five, seis.’’ I’m sure he’ll work it all out and become really comfortable in both languages. I wish I had learned English when I was young. It’s so much easier than trying to pick it up as an adult.

Yesterday against the Braves, we weren’t able to rally back like we often do. I don’t know why we have so many one-run games, and why we seem to win so many of them. I think it’s because we’re pretty much like little kids. You know how when little kids start playing baseball and cry when they lose? That’s us. We don’t like to lose. Sometimes it seems like we wait until the last moment, until our backs are against the wall, and we say, “We’re about to lose this game and then we’re going to cry.’’ Then we say, “OK, come on, we have to win so everybody will be happy in the clubhouse and listening to music and dancing.’’

See? You think we’re grown up. But no matter how old you are or how long you’ve been in the big leagues, when you play a boy’s game for a living, some of that boy stays with you forever.

I’ve been playing baseball all my life. I’m 29 now. But it wasn’t until a day in spring training this year that I finally stopped trying to be someone else. I finally figured out who I was as a player.

In previous years, every time I went 0-for-3 or 0-for-4, I’d change my mechanics. I’d copy Marco Scutaro or Buster Posey or whoever. So no surprise – I’d ride a rollercoaster of trying this and that, and the results were a rollercoaster, too. I was up and down and all over the place.

I arrived at spring training with the goal of figuring out how to be consistent.

It was the first spring training in my life that I could actually pick a component of my game to work on. Every other spring, I was trying to impress the organization so they’d put me on the roster. This spring, I had more security than I’d ever had, so I could afford to focus on becoming a more consistent hitter.

One day in Arizona, I was watching video with our assistant batting coach, Joe Lefebvre. He had put together a bunch of my at-bats from last year.

“Look at your swing,’’ he said. “That’s you right there. Just be yourself and you’ll be more consistent.’’

I said to myself, “That’s right. I’m going to start just being myself.’’

It was like a light bulb switching on.

The reason why Marco and Buster and Pablo are so successful is they always take the same approach. They believe in their approach and don’t change it just because they have a bad day or two.

That’s the biggest difference for me between last year and this year. I’ve found peace in myself and the way I play the game. Which translates into more consistency. I just stay who I am even if I go 0-for-4. I just keep believing in myself and my approach. I just keep swinging aggressively and naturally and with confidence.

My game is to get on base. Every time I get into the batter’s box, I’m just thinking, “Get on base no matter what.’’ That can mean bunting, slapping the ball, getting a walk. Get quality at-bats every single time. That’s what I want to do.

I don’t put nearly as much pressure on myself as I used to. I don’t expect myself to go 4-for-4 every game and then get all stressed when I don’t. I’m much more even.

And so far it’s working well. I feel comfortable at the plate, and I’m getting on base.

Maybe I learned this lesson a little late, but I guess I had to go through everything I did in order to get to where I am. I feel like I’m a better player now than I’ve ever been. And I have the Giants and you to thank for that. I will always feel blessed that I ended up in San Francisco.

When Larry Baer handed me the ring today, I thought I was going to cry. I really did. I was remembering my family, especially my mom, who’s up in heaven. I know she would have wanted to be here with me so badly. I dedicated that moment to her. I know she’s proud.

​To be out on that field today with my teammates with Cepeda, Mays, Marichal, McCovey, all the great Giants, it was not even real. I just looked at the ring in the box and then put it on my finger. It was more beautiful than I imagined. It just flashed like little light bulbs in the sun. I saw my name on the side, and thought, “Yes, it’s really mine. I am really a champion.’’ I can’t wait to look at it closer after the game.

Getting that World Series ring makes me believe that everything you want in life you can accomplish if you really believe in it.  The strongest thing a human being has is their mind. It’s tough, for sure, to get where you want to be. But you always have to have the mindset every day, every at-bat, every moment on the field. That’s true, I think, in everything, not just baseball. Last season taught me that.

This game is so much about your mind. I focus on the opposing team for any little thing I can use to my advantage. If I’m up at bat, for example, I watch the fielders really closely. If they move before the pitch, then I know where the pitch is going to be thrown. There’s so little difference between winning and losing so you can’t miss a chance to gain an edge.

Having a World Series ring means a lot to every player, but I think it has added meaning for the Latin players. Most of us came from poor countries. So it’s a really, really big deal to bring the ring back home. I’m not going to wear my ring. I’ll keep it in a safe and take it out only on special occasions. It will be my family’s legacy, something my son and future grandsons can have. They can say, “My dad and granddad was a world champion.’’

The best part of the ring ceremony was the last part. Every player got to throw a first pitch to the fans in the stands. I went to left field and tossed the ball up. I don’t know who caught it, but in my mind I was throwing to every fan in the park. I was thinking, “It’s unbelievable to play in this ballpark and in front of all of you. Thank you, thank you for believing in us!’’

Now all the ceremonies are over and it’s back to baseball and our usual routines. Now it’s all about playing — and believing in each other and earning our way back to the postseason and another ring.

Below: Blanco waiting to receive his ring

I haven’t blogged since before the final game of the World Series. My first night home in Venezuela, I got into my bed and I remembered that the last time I slept there I was about to leave for my first spring training with the Giants. I still can’t believe how much has happened since then.

I made the Giants’ Opening Day roster.

I contributed to Matt Cain’s perfect game.

I played in the World Series on a team that wasn’t supposed to win and surprised everyone with a sweep of the Tigers.

Unbelievable.

The most amazing part was the parade. Sometimes I wonder if that really happened. I remember every single moment of that parade. It’s the biggest thing that has ever happened to me in my life. I felt like a king, to tell you the truth. I felt like some supreme being. It’s so cool what the fans did for us. My wife and baby and I enjoyed every second. I wish my other son could have flown in from Venezuela, but it was too far to travel. We knew there would be a huge crowd but we didn’t expect to see people on rooftops, hanging from windows, sitting in trees. Every time I think about it I want to do it again!

People at home during the off-season looked at me differently. There was more respect.

When I talked, people paid more attention.

The question I heard most was, “Were you nervous in the World Series?’’ I told them no, I was just enjoying every single moment. So many people never even get to the World Series, so win or lose, I was going to enjoy the experience. I kept everything: jersey, ball, bat, glove, pants, hat, shoes. I’m building a showcase for everything at home.

I played 16 games in the winter league in Venezuela. When they announced the lineup for the first game, they introduced me as a World Champion and the crowd went wild.

It’s still crazy to think all this really happened. I don’t think I’ll really believe it until I see the ring.

I have the same locker here in Scottsdale that I had last year. I remember I didn’t know anyone except Pablo when I first got here. Now I feel like part of a family. I couldn’t wait to get back here and see all my teammates and spend time together.

What I’m working on most this spring is improving my offense. I have to put the ball in play more and use the whole field. I want to be known as much for my hitting as my fielding.

I’m heading up to the gym for a workout before we dress for practice. Part of the club is going to Goodyear to play the Reds but I’m not in the lineup so I can go home a little earlier than usual and spend time with my family.

Thanks for reading. I’ll try not to let so much time go by before my next post.

Almost all of the reporters were asking about Holliday’s slide into Marco Scutaro. I haven’t seen the replay, so maybe I’ll change my mind about it. But from where I stood in centerfield it looked like he went in hard but it didn’t seem like it was over the top. That’s the way you play baseball, or at least the way I learned how to play. You try to break up the double play. If I was going into second base – especially in a game that means as much as each of these games mean – I’d be doing whatever I can to keep that guy from throwing that ball to first

At the same time, Holliday’s slide really fired us up. He hurt our guy. We were mad. I don’t know how Marco is right now, but I’m glad we have a day off tomorrow so he can rest the leg.

And it was perfect that Marco came through with the big hit in the fourth to drive in three runs. That’s how things happen sometimes. A bad thing happens, then something good.

There’s more than a little bit of luck in baseball. Sometimes that’s what it takes to win a game.

Like my high chopper over David Freese’s head at third base in the fourth inning.

Luck.

Then Crawford followed my bit of luck with some of his own. He hit a dribbler that should have been an easy out but Carpenter, the pitcher, made a bad throw to first. He’s safe at first, I’m safe at second.

Crawford looked over at me at second and we both kind of laughed, like “Do you believe this is how we’re mounting a rally?’’

I got lucky again in the eighth when I had to race back to first base when Jon Jay made that amazing catch on Crawford’s fly ball to center. (Crawford was robbed of two hits tonight by spectacular plays. That was his dose of bad luck.) To be honest, I thought I had no chance to get back to first – I was already about five feet past second. But I raced back and dove to the bag, trying to wriggle past Craig’s outstretched glove. The umpire called me safe. The replay apparently showed Craig did, in fact, tag my shirt. The umpire saw it differently.

Luck.

I ended up scoring in what became a four-run inning that put us ahead for good.

​One of the things that always makes me smile during our games is looking into the dugout when I get on base – or when anybody gets on base. You see our guys going crazy – Wilson, Lincecum, Hensley, Huff,  Theriot, Romo, all of them. It reminds me that this is still a fun game and not just a business. Even in the playoffs, everyone on this team is having fun like it’s spring training.

​We get to sleep in our own beds tonight and then be back at the park around 9:30 to board buses to the airport. Our charter flight to St. Louis leaves around 11. I think we go to straight to the field for a workout and then to the hotel.

We’ll see you Sunday, right? I don’t expect we’ll sweep in St. Louis. And we’d rather win the championship here, in front of our amazing fans.

​Keep sending us good luck!

The clubhouse was really quiet after tonight’s 6-4 loss, but it’s always quiet after a loss. We know it’s just one game in a seven-game series. And we know we’re pretty good at clawing back. But it’s disappointing to lose in front of our fans for the third time in the post-season. We hate to do that because our fans are unbelievable.

We’ll wash this one away and win tomorrow. We know what we can do.

Everyone back home in Venezuela is rooting for the Giants because we have so many Venezuelans on the team. My family’s house is packed every night with relatives and friends to watch the games. The newspapers and sports radio stations are carrying stories because they love baseball back there. It’s been so fun to hear from people I haven’t heard from in a long time. Yesterday I got tweets from two schoolmates. They said they were amazed to see me on television in the playoffs.

My twin brother asked me the other day what it’s like to be a starter in the championship series.

“It’s like a dream,’’ I told him. “I feel like I’m in a dream.’’

My dad told me on the phone that he’s proud of me and he loves me and hopes to see me soon – and to bring a ring! “This is your moment,’’ he said. “You always do well in the biggest games.’’ And that’s true. I don’t know why. I think I’m good at calming myself and not trying to do too much.

My dad and my brother also make helpful suggestions – like not to swing at bad pitches and not to take a called strike three with the game on the line (as I did in the NLDS).

“It’s not as easy as it looks on TV,’’ I tell them. “The pitches move a lot more in the big leagues here than in the Venezuelan league. It’s very different.’’

They say, “Oh, of course! You’re doing great!’’

My mother died six years ago of brain cancer at the age of 47. I keep thinking about how much she would have enjoyed all this. She loved baseball. I think about her every at-bat. I ask her to give me strength to be successful. Every big moment – like my triple in the fourth inning today – I wish my mom could be here to watch me. I wish she could see this ballpark. She would be really happy and proud.

Tonight was just one game. It’s fun just to think about what amazing thing might happen on the field tomorrow or the next day or the next. We never know who’s going to be the spark – one day it’s Buster, the next it’s me or Crawford or Angel or a hitter off the bench. Everybody believes in themselves and in each other.

Keep believing. Thanks for reading!