And for the third year in a row, we're all sitting around, thinking about injuries, and sulking after a close loss to the Marlins at AT&T Park. Cody Ross is a cursed monkey paw, apparently. At least the Giants don't have any wishes left.
If you're looking for information about Angel Pagan's knee injury, that's here. If you're looking for information about Chad Gaudin's arm, which was hit on a comebacker, that's here (x-rays negative). If you're looking for the Marlins death fog, it's all around you, man.
The Pagan news puts a damper on this whole post-game thread, not that it was going to be tap-dancing hippos and marching bands anyway. But let's slog through it together.
First: I'm still waiting for the game to end. The real game. When Brandon Belt struck out, and the Marlins conglomerated on the mound to shake hands, it was confusing. I started hitting the remote against the side of the TV, and I spent a half-hour on the phone with Comcast. Turns out it wasn't a problem with the cable box. The game was really over.
I'm not even sure why it felt like that. It's not like the Giants didn't deserve to lose (they couldn't hit, and gave two free runners to the Marlins in the eighth inning). It just felt like they had all the time in the world. There's still the fourth quarter, the third period, the blinetevth inning. Get back out there. Where's everyone going.
Second: There are games in which Clayton Kershaw looks like weaponized death, and you can't blame the Giants for not hitting him. Then there are games where someone like Ted Lilly makes the Giants swing at his pitches, which makes the whole team look like a bunch of overaggressive dinguses.
This was neither of those. Tom Koehler was throwing a nonsensical no-hitter for five innings. He was missing his spots and giving up loud contact. The air was thick with Marlins death fog. That stuff knocks down high, deep drives. Always has. And when the Giants finally broke through with a pair of two-out hits, Nick Noonan drove a ball 400 feet foul. Then he struck out. Is that a metaphor? A capsule of the game? No. Just annoying.
Third: The Marlins sent up the worst hitter in baseball with runners on second and third and one out. Jeff Mathis is on the short list of worst hitters of all-time. He struck out on three pitches. The Marlins went into the baseball gods' church and tinkled in the holy water. They deserved to pay for their blasphemy. They didn't pay enough.
Fourth: Jeremy Affeldt and the eighth inning need to go see a counselor and take a break from each other. It's just not working out. To be fair, the game-winning hit was a few inches off the outside edge, so baseball was just being a jerk by that point. But he barfed whale oil on the fire with his very first pitch, turning a one-on, no-out situation into a two-on, no-out situation. That allowed the Marlins to bunt the runners into scoring position, which is how they ended up winning on their first hit against a Giants reliever.
Fifth: Eh, screw it, just read this from last year to get the overall vibe. Then remember the Giants won the World Series. Their second in three years. Which ties them with the Marlins since the Giants moved to San Francisco.
Okay, okay. I still hate the Marlins. I'm back. Sorry about this afternoon. The scary thing, though, is that the Marlins death fog doesn't hate us. It doesn't feel anything. It just am become death, destroyer of healthy baseball players.