Madison Bumgarner has a terrible nickname.
Seriously. "MadBum". That's the sort of thing you expect to hear attached to a minor character in a Monty Python skit, or maybe used as an insult when the Gallagher boys from Oasis are feuding again. It doesn't even fit into the sort of pre-fab model of modern baseball nicknames, where you either add a "-sey" to a guy's last name, or take his first initial and the first syllable of his last name and get something that I'm pretty much started out as an internet "What's Your Porn Star Name?" meme.
Then again, nobody really needs "MBum", or "Bumgarnersey". So forget I said anything.
That being said, what Bumgarner did this postseason was magical. Historic. Unbelievable. The naysayers who were so ready to rush to judge this World Series based on ratings or the fact that New York or LA or Boston weren't involved who forgot to watch the actual baseball as a result missed something amazing.
So don't be those guys. Ignore the frenemy natterings about ratings and the grumpy get off the porch types who are mad that two second wild cards played for the whole enchilada. What matters is the baseball, and the baseball - blowouts and Ned Yost's odd strategic decisions and all - was special.
Oh, and if you set your couch on fire to celebrate, you're an idiot.