That game was neither good nor bad. It was Giants. I mean to say, its gestalt was Giants. The aesthetic? Giants. The outcome. Oh god, so Giants. So completely Giants. Just Giants puked out all over the floor. Dripping down inside the pant leg. Pooling behind the refrigerator, but it will take weeks to discover that’s where the smell is coming from.
But it was no nightmare. We learned no uncomfortable truths. The Giants played another one of their terrible home games, only this one lasted five and a half hours and it happened on the final Tuesday of the season in the second-to-last start of Madison Bumgarner’s Giants career (probably).