<table> </table> This is one more beautiful thing about baseball. The Royals were all sorts of sloppy Tuesday night. They allowed a runner to score from first on a single. They allowed a slow roller to go through two middle infielders. They allowed a foul pop-up to drop in foul ground down the first-base line. They got thrown out on the bases. They did a lot of little things wrong. And, largely because of all that, they trailed Cleveland by three runs going into the ninth inning.</p><p>Point is: There was no reason to think the Royals could win the game. Here is the Royals&#8217; record this decade when trailing into the ninth inning: 34 wins, 764 losses. That&#8217;s about what you expect in baseball. And when you trail by three runs going into the ninth, well, a comeback is something you might see once or twice a decade.</p><p>There was no reason to think that night would be Tuesday. Then, with one out, Mike Jacobs stepped to the plate. I have really come to enjoy watching Jacobs play. He is not an artful player, as we know. He strikes out a lot. He&#8217;s become almost exclusively a designated hitter. But Jacobs comes to the plate with this singular purpose, this aura that seems to say: &#8220;Hey, look, we both know that if you throw a really good pitch here, there&#8217;s a fair chance that I&#8217;ll swing and miss. But we both also know that if you make a mistake, man, I might just hit the ball to Milwaukee.&#8221;</p><p>So, he stepped up to face Cleveland closer Kerry Wood, who throws preposterously hard fastballs and once struck out 20 men in a game. Jacobs would say he was antsy as he went to the plate. He had pumped himself up to face Wood&#8217;s heat &#8212; maybe even too much. Wood threw his first pitch, a 97-mph fastball, into the dirt for a ball. &#8220;That relaxed me,&#8221; Jacobs said. &#8220;It helped me take a deep breath.&#8221;</p><p>Then, they waged an awesome pitcher-batter battle &#8212; fun stuff. Wood threw a fastball high. Jacobs swung and missed at a 95-mph fastball up and away. Wood threw a fastball inside and then threw another that seemed to fade just off the plate &#8212; Jacobs began to walk toward first base. The umpire, after a pause, called it a strike. Full count.</p><p>And then it was just two power guys exchanging right-hooks. Jacobs fouled off a 95-mph fastball, then fouled off another 95-mph fastball. It was great stuff even if it didn&#8217;t seem especially meaningful &#8212; the Royals were trailing by three with one out in the ninth against a hard-throwing closer. Only then Wood made the mistake &#8212; a 95-mph fastball low and outside, just where Jacobs likes it &#8212; and Jacobs hit it to Milwaukee.</p><p>&#8220;Did it seem like a meaningless home run?&#8221; someone would ask outfielder David DeJesus after the game.</p><p>&#8220;There ARE NO meaningless home runs,&#8221; DeJesus would say.</p><p>So true. The Royals trailed by two runs instead of three, and the next batter, Mark Teahen, had gotten a very good look at Kerry Wood from the on-deck circle. He expected a first-pitch fastball and got himself ready to unleash. Sure enough, Wood threw a 94-mph fastball absolutely over the heart of the plate, the kind of pitch that hitters see in their dreams. Teahen didn&#8217;t miss &#8212; he crushed a long, sailing home run to left field. And the Royals trailed by one run.</p><p>Sure, back-to-back home runs, and that&#8217;s when everyone in the place &#8212; the Royals, the fans, and the Indians too &#8212; began to realize that this might be one of those astonishing nights. Miguel Olivo came up next, and he worked a 3-1 count against Wood, and then he guessed that Wood would throw him a slider. It wasn&#8217;t a bad guess: Miguel Olivo enjoys pitches that move straight. &#8220;Everyone throws me sliders on 3-1,&#8221; he says. Wood indeed threw him a slider, it broke out of the strike zone, and Olivo did not even take the bat off his shoulder. He walked.