This is Madison Bumgarner country, which is to say San Francisco Giants rooting is required. In 18 interviews in three towns, I could not find a single fan of the Royals.

Which was how I ended up at Kevin’s house. He had his right knee wrapped in a black brace; he had twisted it in San Francisco, and it still felt as if he’d been shot.

Watching Game 6 did not make him feel better.

That night, Giants starter Jake Peavy struggled, his low-90s fastball arriving flat as a plywood board. Royals hitters ripped him. Kevin, who has worked as a manager for a warehouse, has umpired baseball games for decades. “Major leaguers’ll hit a .22 bullet if it travels straight,” he said.

Kevin acknowledged he could be tough on Madison. “First thing I mentioned after Sunday was, ‘Don’t forget you were 0 for 4,’ ” he said.

On Sunday, as it happened, Madison had thrown a four-hit shutout.

Kevin nodded when I mentioned this and said: “I can be hard on him. I’m not proud of it. But he could hit better.”

During the season, Madison lives in a $5,000-a-month condo rental in San Francisco, with a view of the Bay Bridge. The day after the season ends, he hops a flight to Charlotte, N.C., and drives to Dudley Shoals. He has the farm with eight Black Angus cattle. He goes to Pancho Villa’s Mexican restaurant at least once a week. (He gave them an autographed Gigantes jersey that hangs over the door.)

“Last winter we were at dinner there,” Kevin said, “and someone says, ‘Hey, Madison!’ I figured it was autograph time. Then the guy says, ‘I hear you got a new horse!’ ”