They’re doing it to you again, aren’t they, Giants fans?
They’re pulling you back in. Barry Bonds is swinging a hot bat, Shea Hillenbrand is finally hitting and, suddenly, someone actually seems capable of getting three outs in the ninth inning.
Don’t fall for it. You’ve been through this too many times and the end result will be the same. No matter how feasible the rest of the pathetically weak National League makes the playoffs seem, the Giants are destined to break your heart.
Here’s who the 2006 Giants are: They’re the baseball equivalent of the Beyonce-hot blind date who seductively strokes your hand during dinner, lovingly rests her head on your shoulder and clutches your thigh during the scary moments of “Snakes on a Plane,” then gives you a stiff, manly handshake on her porch at the end of the evening.
complete article