Don't worry. The Giants are fourth in the league in offensive WAR. This will all straighten itself out soon.
But imagine if the Giants won 22 in a row and the Dodgers lost 22 in a row. That'd be something, right? Just imagine.
For something a little more somber, imagine if that game meant something. Line drive after line drive. Players cut down on the bases. More line drives. None of them coming with runs. Some of them coming with outs. Some of them coming with more than one out.
Meanwhile, with two outs in the fourth inning, the Diamondbacks got a single on a ball that Brandon Crawford gloves last year, a walk on a 3-2 pitch that Vogelsong would have nailed to the outside corner last year, and a wild pitch that ... well, it would have gotten through Hector Sanchez last year, too. But Posey would have been in the game in the first place because his ring finger wasn't gangrenous last year. Last year, those line drives get down or go out. Last year, my soufflés came out light and fluffy. Last year my car got better mileage.
Last year, we were all younger and farther away from the end.
But it's not last year. It's this year. And this year is a fish under the mattress during winter break. It's not what you expected when you got back, and it's certainly not getting better with time. So take a load off! Be thankful that game didn't happen when it mattered.
Trevor Cahill was awful. He left sinkers up, and he had trouble commanding his pitches. The worst part was that the Giants were taking advantage. Here was an eight-batter sequence split between two innings:
1. Pablo Sandoval blisters single to center
2. Hector Sanchez ropes ball down the first-base line
3. Gregor Blanco drills ball to right-center
4. Brandon Crawford singles to left
5. Ryan Vogelsong sacrifices
6. Angel Pagan lines ball to left side
7. Marco Scutaro walks
8. Brandon rips single to right
That's an eight-batter sequence. Every Giant did something he wanted to do. That's the kind of sequence that makes up a six- or seven-run inning. Instead, the Giants didn't score a single run. Buried in those eight at-bats are six outs.
And at this point, you know what? I'm just happy the Giants hit the ball hard. They had good at-bats all night, no foolin'. They helped their draft position, and they didn't look like dillweeds doing it. How about the reduced-calorie Pablo Sandoval? How's about that Brandon Belt, who's up to .285/.358/.478 on the season? Vogelsong looked okay, considering.
Heath Hembree?
Heath Hembree!
Yes, these are the things we get excited about these days. Imagine a scenario in which the apocalypse hits, and you find yourself in an abandoned, half-scorched Denny's, savoring the two-year-old pancake you found stuck to the bottom of the stove. You'd punch someone if he tried to touch you with a pancake like that right now. But after the apocalypse, it would be a delicacy.
And right now, I'm okay with the Giants losing because they didn't look like a bunch of lifeless twits at the plate. It's all about the sliding scale of expectations.
I'd be okay with a loss like that if I knew that it happened because Pablo Sandoval went out of his way to barrel into Miguel Montero.