Phew.
One of these games, Buster Posey will end a game at home. He might end it with a walk, a bloop single, a triple...one of these games, Posey will be the one beneath the mob as the Giants celebrate a win. The natural inclination, then, is to think, hey, screw you Cubs for walking Posey with the winning run at third and nobody out. This was our chance to watch that. But, no, that's not right. When Posey does it for the first time, probably in the seventh game of the World Series this year, we will ascend. Everyone will be waiting for you. So blessed are we. The Cubs don't know that they're a part of the grand plan, but they are.
Today, though, no one cares about who won the game. Giants win on a walkoff sacrifice fly, which is the baseball equivalent of "The French Connection" ending with a courtroom scene. Don't care. All that matters is that it was a win. Fine with me. Because if the Giants lost to this performance...
...there would have been some serious yowling. Yowling. Seven walks? Hard hit balls everywhere into outs? It was painful. But the Giants were able to come back, in no small part because of this performance:
Complain about this bullpen around an Orioles fan, and you might get stabbed. They shouldn't be the problem, and it's nice to see they've escaped the gravity of the midseason suck hole.
The Giants needed that win in that classic not-must-win kind of way. They had an unbroken chain of hits in the eleven, and when the eyes of the world turned to Buster Posey, the other one, Pat Burrell, knew that help was on the way, and the saint of circumstance sent a ripple through the park, and the Giants were able to say, "We bid you good night!"
/twirls for a bit
Ahem. Good win.