Great start. Gift runs. Homer or two. Lights-out bullpen. That's the formula. In a rational universe, even Brian Wilson has a meltdown now and then. In my universe, it is an unthinkable affront to the baseball gods. Thou shalt not tinker with the formula! I should be raging. I should be breaking things. But there are forty baseball games remaining and I just can't get worked up enough. Get 'em tomorrow, eh?