Aug. 24 is now a distant memory, although it didn't seem like it was all too long ago that Ryan Spilborghs upgraded his wheels to blaze around the basepaths.
Forget the Edgar Renteria salami against the Rockies that was a cordial slap-in-the-face back at Colorado. Tit for tat.
That's all erroneous at this point. Just another highlight immovable in the mud that is the 162-game season.
That's the beauty and the beast of professional baseball.
One second you're flying to the moon with Sinatra, the next you lost your heart in San Francisco with Tony Bennett.
Hey, losing two of three at home to the one-trick pony that is the San Diego Padres certainly qualified as lost heart—at least temporarily.
The near-sweep in Milwaukee was negated by poor execution, one run on 10 hits, and yet another middle finger to Merkin Valdez. Not to mention the human bowling ball that Prince Fielder so justifiably channeled. That's not a celebration, Prince.
San Francisco lost. The Rockies responded, and rightly so, taking care of their business a mile high up and rattling off seven straight wins on a 10-game home stand in which they went 9-1.
Light a candle for Pat Misch, Giants fans. He's been the only guy to best Colorado this month.
Now, as they have been on the answering machine hitting rewind all season long, San Francisco is in yet another position to respond—to bounce back.
Going into tonight's series opener against the Dodgers, the Giants have six straight at China Basin. They have three against L.A. and the next set against who else but those damned Rockies.
Currently 4.5 games back of Colorado in the Wild Card chase, the revelation that has been San Francisco Giants baseball will be tested, tortured, and analyzed over the next six games.
The Giants have to win. Anything less than 5-1 on this home swing would be a failure.
Sure, it'll be hard, but haven't they made all the doubters taste the foulness of their feet so far this season?
Undoubtedly. But the holes left over the last nine games are starting to get a little larger than those associated with the Giants wish to feel comfortable seeing.
Juan Uribe, arguably San Francisco's second-half MVP thus far, came back down to earth in the last two games in the Padres series, uncharacteristically botching a bullet to third in the eighth inning that ultimately led to the criminal series loss to the Friars.
Freddy Sanchez, as gamer as he is, as warrior as he is, and as resilient as he is, seems to be turning into quite the novelty. The dude tries really hard and won a batting title, but his body is a '91 Dodge Stratus.
As for Randy Winn, Nate Schierholtz, and Bengie Molina, they've oddly been cold at the exact same time. Well, some more than others.
Singles are cute. A no-out double is a panic attack for your quintessential Giants fan.
This team doesn't need more pitching—yet they got it with Madison Bumgarner, whose debut was awfully pedestrian—they need runs.
Blah, blah, blah, we know this.
Can anyone remember when Ryan Garko last played?
And to think they brought Gerald Dempsey Posey III up to play catch with Dan Runzler, Sergio Romo, and Valdez, among others, and he is just turning into quite the confounding circus act.
It just doesn't seem logical to leave your No. 1 hitting prospect riding the pine day in and day out when that's what the doctor asked you to do at least four to five times a day.
All in all, with the gleeful surprise these Giants have been, as much as they've glued us to the flat screen or as much as they've caused us to visit our logical wig shops on account of your Kevin Frandsen bunts or Aaron Rowand strike threes in the dirt, frozen there as a statue, they are put in another position to step up and respond.
Quick, here's the trick.
Get Barry Zito some new indie CDs and incense at Rasputin.
Light every candle in the Bay Area for Tim Lincecum's lower back.
Ask Bumgarner to find his once religiously-touted arsenal.
Tell Panda to liven up and rally the troops. Check.
Grab Bengie, pull him aside, and tell him he's your 2010 opening day catcher.
Grab Buster boy, pull him aside, and tell him he's the 2010 opening day catcher.
And for heaven's sake, tell Brad Penny to strike out as many Dodgers as possible Sunday without having to be escorted out of AT&T in the back of an SFPD transport.
This is do-or-die time (overused sports analogy alert) for the Giants, and if they want to prove to be the team that they've been all year, they'll need some of that special stuff that MJ introduced to the cast of Looney Tunes in the greatest sports movie ever made, Space Jam.
A blend of special stuff, with a case of the losies for those damned Rockies.
That'd about do the trick.
In a perfect world, the Giants will steamroll six straight W's en route to tugging tightly on a plethora of heartstrings and jump right back into the playoff picture.
In a perfect world, of course.