Went to dinner tonight. Walked there -- it was windy, but not bad. I was recording the game for later.

Came home a little earlier than expected, so I wanted to catch up with the game. Fast-forwarded through the first few innings. I used to be really good at that, watching a game at 3x speed. There's a certain skill to pausing at just the right time. I'm not sure how to explain it.

Then I saw Freddy Sanchez walking off the field at super-speed, like he was in a Buster Keaton film titled "The Guy Whose Shoulder Exploded." That kind of ruined everything.

Caught up with the game enough to watch the entire ninth. It was exciting, sure. When Andres Torres walked to lead off the bottom of the ninth, you had an idea of what was going to happen. The Giants' offense is an insult to offenses; walking a lead-off hitter in the bottom of the ninth is an insult to baseball.

So good for Schierholtz, who had yet another moment in the sun after languishing for so long in Fresno, or on the back of the bench. If he's going to get a hit 26% of the time from here on out, at least he's picking some pretty good spots.

And Vogelsong is still a ridiculous story. Now the Zito issue amuses me because I picture Derek Smalls innocently asking, "Can I raise a practical question at this point? Are we going to pitch Zito when he comes back?"

Tonight, though, is a weird one. I want to be happy about the win, but all I can think of is Freddy not moving his arm as he walked off the field. That's the whole infield, folks. That's the opening day lineup: catcher, first, second, third, and ...

...

Well, Tejada will survive a nuclear blast. Your job is to make sure he tells you where he's hidden the canned food, and beat him there. But tonight's game was about Sanchez. Man, that's a tough loss in a good win.