“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!’ ”

Madison loved that.

Madison can be country taciturn. One day, his father called and asked if he wanted to catch lunch. “Something’s come up,” Madison replied.

“I said, ‘Well, congratulations,’ ” Kevin said. “I knew what was up.”

Madison and Ali were married that day. It was the two of them, the preacher, the preacher’s wife and a visiting missionary.

Where, I asked Kevin, did Madison get his name?

It turned out Kevin had been stumped. So he leafed through The Charlotte Observer. “I saw a headline saying the sheriff of Madison County was in trouble,” he said. “I said, ‘That’s it; I like that name Madison.’ ”

There was a moan from the kitchen, where Kevin’s wife, Tracy — Madison’s stepmother — was watching the game. Royals center fielder Lorenzo Cain had singled for a 4-0 Kansas City lead. Kevin sighed.

“That ain’t good; it’s over,” he said.

He was right. Game 6 was an avalanche; the Giants lost, 10-0. He walked me to the door. “I tell Madison, ‘Sometimes you’re the bug, and sometimes you’re the windshield,’ ” he said. “ ‘Sometimes you’re the pigeon, and sometimes you’re the statue.’ ”

He had agreed I could stop by and watch Game 7. A few hours before the game, however, he begged off. “I’m kinda nervous wreck,” he texted.