One is the loneliest number

Especially when that 1 trails after a 9, as in Dodgers 9, Giants 1.

Wise skipper is wise

You know, everything was okay until the 8th inning when we imploded. I mean, it wasn’t a small implosion. It was like a star going nova. It was like we were playing baseball with blindfolds on. IT WAS LIKE OUR ENTIRE TEAM IS RUNNING IN A THOUSAND DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS AT THE SAME TIME.

Okay and to be fair to Edlefsen, it was a tough play to make since the line drive ripped the glove off his hand.

So to take our minds off that, I’m going to post a few pics from Friday night. That’ll be fun, right?

The bar, which is huge, at Lucky Strike

Killing time before the gates open

Texting gloves, which came in handy later because it was a little chilly

Nate Schierholtz

Aubrey Huff took a few cuts in the cage and we all let him know we were glad to see him

Corey Hart is ginormous

Picture one of eleventy billion of Buster Posey

Timmy and Buster

Seriously though. Buster Posey, y’all.

I wasn’t lying about Ben the Bachelor

There is nothing better than a Friday night at the yard

John Axford, my favorite Brewer and second-favorite closer

Willie Mays Plaza post-game is tres bien