In a perfect world, Christian Arroyo would have seized the third base gig last year and never let go. He would have hit .290/.330/.440 with splendid defense and a cherubic smile, and he would already have had an animal nickname.
In an almost-perfect world, Pablo Sandoval would have returned from his detour through expectations hell in Boston and hit like he never left, the weight of the world off his shoulders. It would have annoyed Red Sox fans and thrilled Giants fans, which should be the desired result of everything in life, not just baseball-related stuff.