Let's talk about the elephant in the room at Oracle Park — or more accurately, the $300-million-plus slugger in the batter's box.

When Buster Posey pulled the trigger on the blockbuster trade for Rafael Devers, the message was clear: the Giants were done being mediocre. They were going all-in. The fan base erupted. Jersey sales spiked. Hope, that most dangerous of San Francisco sporting commodities, was back.

So how's that working out? Since the trade, the Giants are 43-58. That's not a playoff push. That's a slow-motion tailspin with a very expensive co-pilot.

Now, to be fair, Devers himself says he's starting to heat up, and there are signs the bat is coming alive. The man is a genuinely elite hitter when he's locked in — nobody disputes that. But "better days are ahead" is a phrase that should come with an asterisk when your team is already 15 games below .500 since the deal went down.

Here's the fiscal conservative in us talking: trades like this aren't just about talent. They're about opportunity cost. What did the Giants send out? What prospects, what future flexibility, what margin for error did they surrender for a rental-turned-cornerstone who hasn't yet cornered anything?

This isn't a Devers hit piece. The guy can rake. But the front office sold fans a contention window, and right now that window looks like it's been painted shut. At some point, "he's heating up" has to translate into wins, or this trade becomes the most expensive participation trophy in franchise history.

Posey's front office deserves credit for being aggressive — passivity was killing this team. But aggression without results is just expensive chaos. The Giants need Devers to be the Devers they traded for, and they need it soon.

Because 43-58 isn't a rough patch. It's a trajectory. And trajectories don't reverse themselves on vibes alone.