The San Francisco Giants took an unusual approach to the celebration of their National League pennant: They pretended they were the Philadelphia Phillies.

The Phillies, of course, finished a light year or so behind the Atlanta Braves in the NL East and, with a new stadium and the empty seats thereof waiting, needed to give the citizens a reason to hope.

	Barry Bonds watched an exodus of teammates and his manager leave the Giants after they failed to win the World Series in 2002.

Better yet, to buy.

So they got busy. Real busy. A team that has had a pretty rough decade since winning the pennant in 1993 is trying to hit the lotto with both feet by overturning its roster.

Which is what the Giants have done, only more comprehensively and under radically different circumstances.

They have a new manager, the avuncular Felipe Alou, to replace the iconic Dusty Baker. They have a new second baseman, a new third baseman, a new center fielder, a new right fielder, and two-fifths of a new starting rotation.

But they also have something else pennant winners usually don't have -- a sour taste that suggests that they know 2002 was their best chance to win it all, and now begins a slow descent to what they hope is a soft landing.

The Giants are in evident retreat, held in check by a payroll that did not rise to keep pace with the demands of victory, and the sense among many players and other employees that Baker's departure for Chicago was far more about personal agendas (Baker's and owner Peter Magowan's) than about making the team better (and they came within six outs of being as good as they could be).

But managers, like coaches in every pursuit save perhaps childbirth, have been determined to run about a dime per dozen. Especially in the Bay Area, where Raiders coach Bill Callahan teeters by a hair for his relentless acts of willful success.

	J.T. Snow was a clutch performer last year, but will he be able to pick up the slack left by Jeff Kent's departure?

So let's consider the roster itself, where what was once Barry Bonds, Jeff Kent, Rich Aurilia and an imposing supporting cast has become Barry Bonds, Edgardo Alfonzo, Rich Aurilia and a supporting cast of ... well, support.

There are familiar faces. Benito Santiago, the world's oldest useful catcher, remains, as does September's first baseman, J.T. Snow, Aurilia at short, and The Barry. The bulk of the rotation remains, with Jason Schmidt, Kirk Rueter and the convenient target Livan Hernandez. The bullpen, built upon Robb Nen and setup man Tim Worrell and Felix Rodriguez, remains intact.

But Russ Ortiz, the near-hero of Game 6, was traded (with his salary) to Atlanta for Damian Moss. Kent signed with Houston after nearly a year of knowing he was going to leave. David Bell went to Philadelphia (no doubt because, get this, the Phillies have a better chance to win), and Reggie Sanders and Kenny Lofton, the right and center fielders, weren't asked back.

Thus, the new offense, which swirls around Bonds as surely as it had for the past nine years, has several new components to do battle with a park that holds everyone but Bonds.

Ray Durham is the new center fielder, at least for awhile. Marquis Grissom and Marvin Benard will share right field. Alfonzo will play second, unless it's Neifi Perez, in which case Alfonzo will play third base, unless it's Pedro Feliz, in which case Alfonzo's hinky back will be acting up and it won't much matter either way.

	Felipe Alou is taking over a team that looks nothing like the one that nearly missed winning the World Series in October.

You can see why Alou is so important. He nurtured the Montreal Expos as best he could, in OK times and malnutritious times. He is patient, he is nurturing, he makes do with what he has, and the NL West is not so imposing that the Giants couldn't cobble together a modest run at the division title, or more likely, the wild-card spot.

But the players have to believe that the wreckage that followed their first pennant in 13 years made sense, that the team is somehow better than it was, that there remains something from the past five years beyond Bonds putting balls in the water.

They have to believe, but it isn't the way to bet.

Ray Ratto is a columnist with the San Francisco Chronicle and a regular contributor to ESPN.com