A few innings ago I was in mortal despair. Jason Schmidt had intentionally walked Ramon Vasquez to face Padres pitcher Brian Lawrence with two on and two out. But he walked the pitcher, inspiring me to make that sound Kim dreads, the international Bertsch sign of disgust, which the Bean has apparently inherited. Then Schmidt gave up a single to Jay Payton, scoring two, and I responded with a rough hewn, "Fuck you, Jason Schmidt," muttered out of Skylar's hearing.
But then the Giants went up 6-2 in the fourth, and my manic-depressive fandom took a turn for the positive. Suddenly, all my problems seemed manageable. Even as I sat down to write this, though, I plummeted back down towards my zero point when Rich Aurilia hit one into the corner and ended up on third after Bonds misplayed the carom. Now it's 6-3. Whew, the inning finished without further incident. Time to head back to the grading that's taking my mind off the game.
