As Buster Posey stepped in to face Raisel Iglesias in the bottom of the ninth on Thursday night with a man on first and the Reds clinging to a one-run lead, a funny thing happened: I got nervous. I didn’t notice it right away, but with every pitch – and there ended up being an agonizing, torturous seven of them – I began to squirm more and more to the point where I couldn’t wait for the at-bat to end.
There have been times where I’ve felt similarly over the past three seasons, but only when attending a Reds game in person.