A few months into my first season as a Giants beat writer, I learned a valuable lesson.
I took the night off on a random summer Thursday, eager to attend a concert with some friends. As I waited for them at a downtown bar, I couldn't help but notice that Madison Bumgarner was ticking off one hitless inning after the next.
There was a big part of me that wanted to hop in a cab -- kids, this was pre-Uber -- and speed over to the ballpark, but just as my friends arrived, Bumgarner finally allowed a single.