I don't even like the Giants, at all, but Yusmeiro Petit just came like a foot away from a motherfucking perfect game. Ninth inning, two outs, full count....line drive about a foot away from an easy catch and an out. Petit's now in the annals of almost-perfect games. God, I can't imagine what the pressure must be like — my heart was racing for the guy. Also, I love how when a perfect game is on the table, in the end people wind up rooting for the pitcher, often even if you're really rooting for the other team. The code of superstition, too, is one of my favorite things about the sport. "Church of baseball," indeed.
(I am still writing my grant! I swear!)