By the time Nolan Arenado’s hit had passed third base, I was already laughing. What else can you do at that point? When the previous hitter — memories of the game are already fading and I don’t even care enough to look it up at this point — banged a come-backer off of Pedro Strop’s foot, it was all but assured that the things were going to get sideways.
I wasn’t necessarily in good spirits, mind you, my laugh was more of the maniacal variety. So salty was I over the inglorious display of ersatz baseball that I actually challenged a stranger to fight over his espousal of a very, very bad opinion.