Follow Kenley Jansen, on his knees in the dirt and then backpedaling from the mound to the third-base line. Follow him, a man fighting for assurance in a game that won’t wait for him to be what he was. That can’t. And now he’s standing in the chaos that comes from good pitches, bad pitches, good and bad luck, broken bats and severed faith, on a team that for a few dreadful seconds Saturday night looked like it was trying to win three World Series instead of just one.
Follow Jansen, the generous soul whose arm isn’t what it was, coming to a stop square in the middle of it all, his head down, his arms slack, seemingly mourning the hit he’d allowed that would tie the score of this World Series Game 4, wholly unaware it was becoming the hit that would also untie the score of this World Series Game 4.