Sometimes your ace, while perfectly worthy of New Yorker covers , is missing that little wrinkle from his fastball and can’t locate it anyway and he gets whacked around.
Sometimes an opponent who’s spent the year being an absolute tomato can manages to bewilder.
Sometimes your hitters connect with ball after ball after ball in ways that seem promising at first but wind up profoundly frustrating.
Sometimes Matt Kemp  catches EVERYTHING THAT COMES WITHIN 50 FEET OF HIM.
Sometimes Freddie Freeman  shows up and does Freddie Freeman things.
Don’t let it get you down. It’s just baseball, which can be beautiful and can be cruel and can also be baffling and exasperating . We weren’t going to win every game. In all likelihood we don’t need to win every game. Win series. Win series and we’ll take our chances.
It all starts tomorrow. It’s always all starting tomorrow.