That game was like doing laundry. A predictable, painful but necessary chore. Sort, load, wash, pull, hang, sort, dry, pull, fold, fold... fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold...
You can imagine that the Giants even knew it was going to be that way, too. Swing, ground ball, swing, ground ball, layoff on a close pitch, swing, ground ball, cue-shot, broken bat, swing, embarrassing out, weak contact, loss.
There were also a lot of little surprises, just as you'd find in a pile of laundry.
Say, a ten dollar bill! That was Pagan's saving throw to start the relay that led to Wil Nieves getting tagged out at home plate.
I thought I'd lost this shirt! Take your pick: Scutaro's lunging catch of Parra's liner in the sixth or Hector Sanchez throwing out Paul Goldschmidt to end the top of the first.
Wait. Who's underwear is this? That's Pagan doubling off a completely bumfuzzled A.J. Pollock to end the third.
And it was doing your laundry the night after your wedding or a birthday party or something that was really, really fun. In terms of following up a near-perfect performance, Matt Cain's start since returning from his first-ever trip to the disabled list was great. A cut above. Pretty nifty. Probably more walks and hits than you'd like to see, and it took Jean Machi bailing him out of a crowded bases situation in the sixth, but he looked positively Cain-like. I mean, I have no earthly idea why the Giants are even interested in having him pitch again the rest of this season (and that goes double for Madison Bumgarner), but they did and he looked fine. His team, predictably, could not master a sinkerballer and didn't give him any support. Ho hum, just another Matt Cain start.
Laundry. A big orange pile of laundry.
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Hector Sanchez caught Paul Goldschmidt trying to steal in the first and he generally didn't look remarkably terrible catching or even at the plate. Certainly no worse than the rest of the lineup against Brandon McCarthy. Still, he managed to add to his growing collection of "Hector Sanchez Is A Catcher Who Cannot Catch" art:
Presumably, Hector called for that pitch and knew it was coming.
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Anyone else notice Heath Hembree's between-pitches ritual?
It's like a Daft Punk b-side:
♫Rub it, lick it, pet it, blow it
Snap it, slap it, look in, pitch it♫
And look at that pitch face. That's a bulldog waiting patiently you for you to open its treat box only for you both to discover NO TREATS. The heck, owner? Go grocery shopping once in a while. GIMME MY TREATS!
I kid the kid, but it's nice to have a new toy out of the bullpen. This was easily the worst he's looked of his three appearances and it's easy to see how he could have some brutal meltdown innings. Then again, he's a reliever, and they've all got that quality. I'm not keen to break down this prospect's prospects given a ridiculously small sample size in particular, so let's just try to guess instead what caused his between-pitches ritual.
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