Bottom of the ninth.
One out, that one out being pinch-runner Cliff Lee having been TOOTBLANned off first base by Aroldis Chapman. Phillies down by 1. 7 and 8 hitters are due up, and Cholly Manual can't hit for his .191 BA backup catcher, because the starting catcher pulled up lame going first to third earlier in the game.
I turn to my wife and I say, "This is going to be ugly. Erik Kratz and Freddy Galvis against Aroldis Chapman? The guy who can throw 104? It's not fair."
And then Kratz parks one ten rows deep in left center, and the place goes nuts.
And then Galvis, the backup middle infielder with a Freddie Patek-level stick, sends one screaming down the line, a wall-scraper that sneaks over the fence and inside the foul pole and then rolls away as the park erupts, and the mob forms at home plate, and Harry the K goes up on the centerfield scoreboard singing "High Hopes".
Maybe Chapman isn't right. He walked unwalkable pinch hitter Delmon Young on 4 pitches before the insanity began. He was throwing in the mid-90s. Doesn't matter. The backup catcher whose mental blunder set up Cincy's second run, the no-bat backup infielder popped for steroids last year after a hot month where his average got all the way up near .250 - they took the ravening bullpen monster deep, and sent the crowd home happy.
And this is why I watch baseball.