SAN FRANCISCO -- So what constitutes a bad day at the office for those Anaheim Angels these days?

When they only score, like seven runs? When they just bat around once? When the other team only has to use, say, four pitchers?

Somebody tell these guys it's October, for cripe's sake. It's the World Series. They're not supposed to be scoring runs like they're playing a split-squad game in Maryvale on March 14.

	“	I don't think anybody in baseball plays like us. The reason we are where we are is because we play the way we do. We don't have a team with big stars or big names. Everybody on this team has the same goal: Do whatever it takes to win. ”
		— Jarrod Washburn, Angels pitcher

The Angels ground out 10 more runs Tuesday night at Pac Bell Park. And 16 more hits. And eight walks. And a double steal. And bat-arounds in back-to-back innings.

They pounded the Giants, 10-4. They lead the World Series, 2 games to 1. They're batting .353 in the World Series, .335 in the postseason. They're averaging eight runs and 14 hits a game in the World Series. They're averaging seven runs and 12 hits a game in October. They've outscored their postseason opponents, 84-55.

They're quite a spectacle, all right. They circle the bases more regularly than the earth circles the sun. They hit so many balls in so many open spaces, you'd think the Giants were playing with a two-man outfield and a three-man infield. "We're like that game, RBI Baseball," said pitcher Jarrod Washburn, a man with the best seat in the house four out of every five nights the Angels' offense reports for work. "Every guy just keeps on getting hits."

But what separates the Angels from just about everyone else in baseball is the kind of hits they get and the way they go about getting them.

In a lot of ways, they're a team better-suited to playing baseball in 1902 than 2002. Except that they don't leave their gloves on the field between innings.

They hit 78 fewer home runs this season than the Rangers -- and still outscored them, because they're the most relentless offensive team on earth in every other respect.

"I don't think anybody in baseball plays like us," said Washburn, who is permitted by his teammates to talk about offense because his lifetime batting average is .357. "The reason we are where we are is because we play the way we do. We don't have a team with big stars or big names. Everybody on this team has the same goal: Do whatever it takes to win.

"We go first-to-third. We score from second on base hits. We get the bunt down. Nobody wants to be the guy who ends a rally. We just get hit after hit after hit. Big innings are common for us -- even at a time when they're not supposed to be common. I know one thing: I wouldn't want to pitch against us right now."

Well, the Giants aren't too crazy about that idea, either. Their starting pitchers the last two games -- Russ Ortiz and Tuesday's victim, Livan Hernandez -- have allowed more baserunners (19) than they've gotten outs (16). They had to throw 140 pitches just to get through a combined 5 1/3 innings. Some fun, eh?

Hernandez was the undefeated Octoberweight champion of the world (6-0 lifetime in the postseason) when the night began. Not anymore. He was TKO'd in the fourth inning, when the Angels were in the midst of becoming the first team ever to bat around in back-to-back innings of the same World Series game.

"I saw that (6-0 record) on the board when we went out there," said Tim Salmon. "To be honest, I didn't know anything about it until then. I don't think this team knows about any of that stuff, and I don't think this team cares. We went through all that with the Yankees and all they've done and what they were supposed to do. But this is a club that just doesn't get caught up in a lot of those stats everybody throws around."

Of course, a lot of those stats everybody throws around now involve the Angels -- a team headed for possibly the most prodigious October offensive numbers of all time. But those numbers don't tell you everything about them, either.

If you just looked at the numbers, you would see this team finished 11th in the American League in walks. You would also see the Angels struck out fewer times than any team in the league. And that might lead you to believe they have a lot of quick, impatient at-bats. Not true -- as this World Series is proving. Those at-bats just seem to end in contact, not in ball four.

"When I think of patience, I think of the Yankees," Salmon said. "Those are guys who walk all the time because they're patient. When we show patience, it's by accident. If I go up there and walk, I'm trying to hit every pitch. I'm not showing patience by design. But that's just our style. We're showing patience by having good at-bats."

You should not get the impression, however, that this stuff they do every night is one gigantic nine-man coincidence.

It is by design that pretty much the whole lineup beats everyone but the trainers to the park. It is by design that they choke up and shorten their strokes with two strikes. It is by design that they think they're entitled to two bases on every hit unless served with a temporary restraining order. It is by design that they think the object every night is to wear down the opposition just by being so darned relentless in everything they do.

In an age marked by big swings and big numbers, in an age dominated by home runs and strikeouts, the Angels don't fit. In most clubhouses, it would be easier to sell 1,000 shares of Enron than it would be to sell this little-ball stuff. Not in this one, though. Not when they're a year removed from finishing 41 games out of first place.

"It really wasn't a tough sell," Salmon said. "Not when we started out in spring training and looked at what it took to win our division. We looked at Oakland's staff and Seattle's staff, and we knew were going to have to win those 2-1 games and 3-2 games. Coming off the year we had, knowing this division had the best pitching in baseball, it wasn't a tough sell. And I think our focus and commitment in spring training to work on that has carried over. Now we don't even think about it. That's just what you do here."

That's what they do. That's what they've done for six months. And Game 3 of this World Series was another prototypical Angels show, right off the assembly line.

They did spot the Giants a run in the first inning -- a run the Giants got after Angels manager Mike Scioscia decided to walk Barry Bonds intentionally. With first base occupied. And third base, too. In the first inning. That, not shockingly, is another World Series first.

"If you pitch to him," Salmon said, "you might be down three runs on one pitch. So I understand that strategy. I know it's only the first inning, but if he gets you down three runs there, it's the same thing -- whether it's the first inning or the ninth."

Hernandez lugged that 1-0 lead into the third inning. Then up stepped leadoff mini-dynamo David Eckstein to change everything. As usual.

"The second time through the lineup, you just want to make sure you don't swing at anything unless it's a strike," Eckstein said. "He's so good at throwing pitches that look good but end up off the plate. We swung at a lot of those pitches the first time through the lineup. So that was the adjustment we had to make: Just make sure we swing at strikes."

Eckstein saw six pitches, didn't swing at any of them and drew a leadoff walk. And with that, the nightly Angels track meet began. Next thing Hernandez knew, five of the first six hitters that inning had reached base, a Scott Spiezio triple had just given Anaheim a 4-1 lead and the Angels were on the way to their fifth bataround of the season.

An inning later, they were on their way to their sixth bataround of the season. And there's no telling how long those two innings might have gone if pitcher Ramon Ortiz (0 for 3 for the evening, 0 for 17 in his career) hadn't made the third out in both of them.

"There's not one guy in this lineup who's an easy out," Washburn said, a little grin forming in the corner of his mouth. "Except Ramon. And please make sure you use that."

Well, the facts are the facts. Ortiz was the only Angel in the lineup who didn't reach base. Catcher Bengie Molina -- who had been 0 for the World Series -- even reached base five times, on two hits and three walks (two intentional) and said: "I've never done that. Ever. Never. Even in Little League. Never."

Erstad, owner of a 12-game October hitting streak, got three more hits. Spiezio, Troy Glaus, Adam Kennedy and Eckstein got two hits each. With all those bat-arounds, Eckstein led off four of the first five innings -- and seemed as if he batted about 10 times.

"That little guy -- he's everywhere," Giants catcher Benito Santiago said of Eckstein. "I don't even call him a little guy anymore. He's a big man, even though he's 5-foot-6. He's a very good player. He makes things happen for them. He's everywhere, man -- everywhere on offense, everywhere on defense."

The Angels scored eight runs in a span of 15 hitters at one point, went first to third or second to home on five different hits, and created such a huge pad, they barely minded giving up a 437-foot home run to Bonds over the center-field fence in the fifth.

It made Bonds the first player in history to homer in the first three games of his World Series career. But a lot of good that did him -- or his teammates.

"I don't think anybody really cares about that number right now," said Giants shortstop Rich Aurilia. "The only number we care about is that we're down, 2-1."

This Series isn't over, by the way. The Angels may have become the fourth team to score at least 10 runs in back-to-back World Series games, but two of the previous three (the 1960 Yankees and 1997 Indians) did not win the Series. They're the second team to get 16 hits in two straight Series games, but the other was those '60 Yankees.

And the Angels have their streaks, too. They had a 19-game stretch in late April and early May in which they averaged eight runs a game. They also scored the fewest runs in the American League in July. So they can't keep going at this pace. Can they? Not in October.

"We know it's not often a team gets everybody hot," Washburn said. "You're not supposed to get to the playoffs and do what we're doing. But everyone has taken it to the next level, and that's pretty tough to do, considering who we're playing."

And moving to Pac Bell, with its John Steinbeck weather and National League rules, didn't seem to bother them much, either.

"They're just like a National League team," said Aurilia. "But you know what? They're not like any team we've seen this year."

In other words, they're more like a National League team than any of the actual National League teams. Figure that out. Figure them out. And if you do figure out how to stop them, better send a telegram to Dusty Baker. Preferably in the next five minutes.

Jayson Stark is a senior writer for ESPN.com.