The baseball hopped through the grass like a startled midnight hare, disappearing into the glove of Cubs third baseman Kris Bryant, who now held not just the baseball, but the last baseball of an epoch.
Yeah, that’s all.
So Anthony Rizzo went to the bag at first, where he waited for Bryant to throw him the last baseball, the honest-to-God epoch-shattering baseball, and it flew toward him with all 108 years of seething, throbbing, Chicagoland frustration riding on it.
Whoso pulleth this sword from this stone . . .
Yeah, that’s all.
I guess you heard Rizzo caught it, ending a World Series Game 7 that measured 10-implausibe innings across almost five desperate hours that shook your baseball soul.