It was 2:07 am. The Mariners slept soundly in their hotel beds. Worn out from an exhausting 13-run affair the day before, they dreamt of how they would do damage to Dean Kremer in their next game. That is when it happened.
Unbeknownst to anyone in the city, a hole in the very fabric of time opened up beneath and around Baltimore. Everyone, the baseball players, the shoemakers, the lawyers, the cab drivers, and the sous chefs were pulled upthread by 1397 days. While they lay sleeping, the largest city in Maryland was moved into 2019.
Everyone, that is, except the baseball delivery truck.