What comes of a conversation of 110 pitches or more than 110 pitches, of clinging to your ace or buffering him, of the baseball inevitability that at some point one must believe in the thing hardly anyone else does, well, all that ruined the Los Angeles Dodgers again on Monday night. All of that saved the San Francisco Giants for a night. If not in Washington, then in Los Angeles, where division favorites – but not, curiously, division leaders – are drowning in the sort of pitching imprecision wrought by injury or short-sightedness or the strain of picking up too many innings over too long a time.