All of which to say is, the San Francisco Giants have been almost incomprehensively terrible, and utterly unfortunate, for a month, and in spite of the facts of flabby bats and soggy arms and dirt-bike calamity and brain trauma and fluttery heart and 9-17 despair, the professional ballplayer is the person most equipped in our society to show up today as though nothing happened yesterday. Undeterred, he's made two starts, given up all of seven hits and two runs in them, and the Giants lost both, because April was still happening to them.