Why was – and should be again – baseball “America’s pastime”?
Last night’s game ended in excitement that is hard to beat
by any form of entertainment. That’s why.
It matters not where or when or by whom. That’s why no names
are used here.*
Leading 5-2, the Home Team went down in order in the bottom
of the eighth. A happy ending appeared certain as the Visitors’ bottom of the
order came to bat in the top of the ninth. True to baseball’ statistical
expectations, outfield flies were caught for outs one and two. The closer was
doing his job.
As the top of the order came up, fans were disappointed as
batter three got a base-on-balls.
Still another and greater disappointment: pitcher and
catcher allow the runner to advance. Then, another walk!
Drama builds. The Visitor’s leading hitter with a .355
average toes the plate. The crowd, on its feet, makes the noise the Home Team
wants. Unrelenting cheers.
Back of the plate the umpire lets the balls speak for
themselves; calls the strikes. Foul balls speak for themselves. Tension grows.
The crowd increases its noise. The count stands at 3 and 2.
The winning run – unthinkable ten minutes before – would cross
home plate with a homer.
Just one more pitch could do it. There were several (real
fans know the number, even now).
POW! A shot heads for the right field fence.
All eyes and head follow the low arc.
The right fielder jumps.
His glove reaches above the fence railing.
It gets in between a nanosecond before the ball can cross
the fence.
The ball sticks in the fielder’s glove as his feet hit the
ground.
Crowd noise explodes to eardrum bursting.
Another win to keeps the Home Team’s record above the .500
mark.
One hundred and 121 games to go. More thrills to come,
whether on TV or, better, at the park with a hotdog and a beer to wash it down.
* For the record: Mets at Nationals, 5/16/14.
