C'mon. You didn't seriously think that the Giants were going to waltz into Coors Field in the middle of a pennant race and leave without one soul-munching game, did you? You budget for games like this. It's like a leaky roof. You sock away some money -- or, in this case, preparation for a ghastly defeat -- and when the bad times come, you're not caught so off guard.
There are so many things wrong with tonight, that it's pointless to catalog them. Juan Uribe missing a double-play ball two feet to his left that turns into Pat Burrell falling down a manhole? It's all fun and dingers until somebody gets hurt.
Maybe Barry Zito should sleep in a humidor for a while.
Ghastly defeat. But, hey, it's Coors Field. At least one of these was coming. Science. The series can still be a clear success with a win tomorrow. So the Giants got shellacked for the Zito game. Nuts to that. Bad game. Move on.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to calmly break a plate-glass window. I haven't decided if I'll use my fist or another living creature. Dealer's choice, right? Har har har!