Picking the right target of rage isn't a science. There really isn't a right answer, so you just have to eliminate the possibilities.
- Brian Wilson throws high-90s smoke, but his control will keep killing him. It wasn't Khalil Greene's chopper that hurt; it wasn't Brady Clark's weak fister that hurt. It was the four straight balls to Oscar F. Robles that hurt. It was getting behind in the count to Brian Giles that hurt. Target of rage, though? Nah. Learning experience. Better to get it in now than when it matters.
- Scott Hairston did act like a petulant little twit throughout the whole game. After everything he does on the field, he has an interpretive dance of weenieness ready to go. He slams helmets, sighs, drops his shoulders and, of course, flips his bat after home runs. I don't think he was really trying to show Cain up, though. Hairston's just doesn't think before he acts. Target of rage? Nah. Just an emotional moron. It'll be that much more fun to watch the Cain/Hairston match-ups in the future.
- Brett Tomko popping up over the dugout like some methed-out meerkat to chirp at Matt Cain: perfect target of rage. What a whiny goon. If winning baseball were ever personified in a single man, Tomko would be that man's venereal disease. Here's to Brett Tomko: a waste of a mid-90s fastball, a waste of a Playboy model, and a waste of a roster spot wherever he goes.