When the Giants were on their way to scoring their fifth run, I already had the opener to the post-game thread in mind. It went like this: I would have been okay with a Giants loss if Vogelsong pitched that well in a losing effort. As in, Vogelsong returning to form, giving us a little hope, would have been good news on its own. The Giants supporting him with a bushel of runs: gravy. Shaping up to be a great night!
Vogelsong was living in a Gulag two years ago, eating mice and insects to stay alive, so he's been through worse. But it's somehow more … unfair? … that the injury happened during the first excellent start of Vogelsong's season. I know Giants fans shouldn't be mumbling words like unfair, but I was pretty fond of this Vogelsong chap. He was a fixture -- the bright spot in the dreary 2011 season who was a walking reminder of why you followed baseball.
Okay, he's not dead. So I probably shouldn't lay this on too thick. But we all needed a good game after the miserable road trip, and we got exactly that, but in a monkey-paw way. It's a hungry fellow getting a banana cream pie with a severed ear in it. Not funny.
We'll talk about the other options in the morning. Mike Kickham? Chris Heston? Chad Gaudin? Justin Fitzgerald? Todd Wellemeyer? BIG TRADE FOR CLIFF LEE or ricky nolasco? Dunno. Let's sleep on it. For the first time in years, a starting pitcher of note is out for a while. It's hard to think about anything else right now.
Though I did talk with some people around the office, Killer Peas. And while we appreciate your contribution to the get-dressed-in-something-and-get-on-TV arts, we're going to have to say "no thanks." Really, we should have been more forceful when people came up with giraffe hats, but the dude really did look like a giraffe, so it seemed harmless and cute at the time. But that permissiveness led to a slippery slope, and, well, we're sorry you got caught up in it.
We might have an opening for The Bug Eyes Crew, which is something I just came up with. You wear these whenever the Giants are in the field, because two-thirds of the Giants' outfield is afflicted with bug eyes. Three if Andres Torres is in the lineup! We have your résumé on file, so we'll keep you in mind if we go through with this.
Again, thanks. We'll call you.
Amy Gutierrez (paraphrased): "You've been on fire lately. What's going on with you?"
Brandon Belt (paraphrased): "I have no idea what's going on."
Never change, you goofy bastard. Never change. If you get frustrated at Belt for being streaky, take a moment to appreciate just how entertaining he is. He could be a monosyllabic grunter who struck out 10 percent less. I wouldn't make that swap. No way.
Luckily we don't have to. After Belt's 4-for-5 night -- a total inflated by the seeing-eye hits that he wasn't getting at all earlier in the season, mind you -- his season line is up to a respectable .261/.329/.449. The average can come up, and the OBP with it, but the power is already more than I expected. He's a homer away from last year's total, and the wretched funk from April is over.
I think we're just going to have to get used to Belt as the streakiest player on the team. When his line drives were finding fielders early in the year, something got discombooberated in his head. It took a while, but now he's back. That's my working theory, anyway.
We survived the Great Huff Wars. We've mostly forgotten the Less Great Pill Skirmishes. It didn't seem especially cool that we'd have to deal with another Belt-related batch of nonsense this year. So good for him for hitting. He probably didn't want to hear it, either. If he keeps hitting like this, we won't have to.
Dammit, Vogelsong. I want to punch injuries right in the face. Though I'll bet injuries could absolutely kick my ass, so this is just talk. Just kidding, injuries.