“Holy shit!”

You scream, standing up out of your chair behind the dugout—Ernie Clement had gotten the ball right in the hole and got himself to second, then, as if it couldn’t get any better, George Springer hit a Dinger (his little catchphrase for a home run)!

God, this game couldn’t get any better.

Famous last words.

The Red Sox had caught up to them in the bottom of the fourth—somehow.

How?

That’s a question for God, and God only.

“Jesus.”

Your mom mumbles under her breath, it was now 7-7 in the fifth and you could not keep still, neither could anyone else at Rodgers Centre right now—knees bouncing, people standing, yelling…everything.

And when the Jays got up by one, thinking they had won—Fuck, the Red Sox got bases loaded and a homer. And Ernie being Ernie, you know he’d suck up to you later.