Last night, little Flea hit his first major league home run. It didn't have the immediate impact it should have, because it wasn't ruled a home run at first. Rhymes had to languish at third while the umpiring crew reviewed the play. When the crew chief came out and gave the signal, Rhymes flashed a grin expressive of pure delight. He got a nice high five from Damon who was on deck, but as he walked into the dugout, he was given the traditional silent treatment. He trudged sheepishly for a few steps before his teammates fairly erupted into an exuberant dogpile. I mean, their eyes lit up like they had just smacked THEIR first home runs, and they jumped and slapped Rhymes until he probably felt a little beat up (but in a good way, you know). I laughed so hard at the adorable-ness of all this, that tears spilled out of my eyes.
Not to be outdone, Alex Avila went after a pop foul that threatened to go into the Royals dugout. He reached out over the dugout fence, and was upended, going head first straight down. None other than Ned Yost himself caught Avila to prevent him from splatting his gray matter all over the concrete. I mean, who does this? Avila very well could have dropped the ball if he had fallen, so Yost may have contributed to the out. The whole thing just smeared chivalry and fatherly concern all over the place. It was priceless.
I can't tell you how much it means to get enjoyment like that out of a (meaningless) baseball game. It can be hard to finish out a season where you were in it for quite a while, and now you're just done. That stupid "E" stares you in the face whenever you look at the standings. It's sickening. But the little things from last night's game remind you why you watch. Something amazing can happen at any moment. I, for one, don't want to miss a single thing.