It is now time to exhale and laugh a little at ourselves for the mass hysteria that has ruled the roost for the past few days. Well, maybe not completely exhale just yet. We are only one game removed from all of that, but what a game it was. A 2-1 victory in Los Angles, dealing Clayton Kershaw his first at-home loss in over a year and playing respectable defense at last, too. There was a bit of clutch hitting and a lot of good pitching. Overall, very encouraging and very calming. Leastways, I felt calmed.
We did not leave unscathed, of course, seeing as Pagan got some sort of a nasty cramp in the eighth, but that was just to be expected, right? No pain, no gain, as my brother reports they preach in Little League. (And you wonder why I didn’t play Little League, guys. Positive mantras and I tend to, er, clash.) Hopefully, this wasn’t that big a pain, though. Bochy says Pagan will be back in a day or two and he was planning to give him a rest today, anyhow.
This feels weird to write, really. There are no horrors to describe or disastrous turns to narrate. I swear, I am this close to inventing a storyline about Ryan Vogelsong’s freak injury as he was combing his hair with a silver comb given to him by a suspicious-looking witch in a cottage in the middle of the forest. The witch was probably jealous, you know, about his amazing good looks and pitching and stuff so she gave him aforementioned poisoned comb.
I mean, do you see the spike in the hair there? I know it’s mostly gel, but a comb has got to involved somewhere too.
See? Now I feel like a Giants blogger again. It’s Disaster Inside and all that.
In all seriousness, though, I am stoked for tonight’s game. I think this is going to continue going swimmingly (hopefullyhopefully) and soon I will become accustomed to It’s Magic Inside and all that. In the purely non-Magic-Johnson sense of the phrase.