It’s the last of the ninth inning in Arizona. The home team is trailing by two runs but has the bases loaded with two outs. The pitcher pauses as he approaches the mound. He removes his hat and places it over his heart, closing his eyes to pray.

The batter waits outside the box, making the sign of the cross before stepping in.

Timeout is called. The manager, catcher and all the infielders gather at the mound to assess the situation.

Action resumes. The pitcher throws. The batter swings and connects, driving the ball deep into the outfield. The runners are in motion as the fielder leaps and reaches his glove high above the fence.

In the meantime, God is perched on the edge of a cloud high above the stadium. She’s weighing the petitions, trying to decide which prayer to answer positively.

Outside the park the devil is hiding behind a cactus under a palm tree. Though he’s clutching and sipping a cold beer, he’s sweating profusely. He has bet heavily on the game, and the desert air is even hotter than… his usual habitat.

An idea pops into the satanic mind and he shouts at the Creator: “Why don’t you let me handle this one?” But the Lord’s not interested and continues to claim jurisdiction. Fans in the stands and watching on TV wait nervously for her decision.

Just then an archangel lands on the cloud and taps her on the shoulder. He says, “You won’t believe what Vladimir Putin just did.” She turns her attention away from the action below to get the rest of the report. You must understand why. The most vital game in any season is peanuts in the grand scheme of things.

SANFORD K.H. WRIGHT

Alpena