Welcome to Tuesday in late March. Opening Day is a week out, the Masters two, and the NCAA Tournament, where all your teams have already been unceremoniously booted to the curb anyway, isn't back until Thursday. In other words, we're all a little desperate for A-grade sports content that isn't LeBron slamming a basketball all over some poor sixth man's soul, as entertaining as that is the first 12.3 million times you see it.
But as they say, ask and you shall receive, and so at approximately 1:30pm ET Tuesday, March 20th, 2018 CE, the sports gods reached down, unfurled their glowing palms, and bestowed upon us the glory of Russell Martin. Amen.
An epic of Homerian proportions, the highlight of Spring Training thus far picks up the Blue Jays catcher tracking a pop-up in foul territory. Casting off his mask, Martin and his epic man bun drift closer and closer to the opposing Phillies dugout when, as if out of a dream, a portable netting system appears in the on-deck circle before him. In a flash, Martin is snared like an angry man-bear, his every effort to break free only tightening the noose. For a moment he seems to escape—the clouds part and a golden glimmer of freedom beams from on high—but then he's brought down again, harder than before, and suddenly it's all over.
The Phillies come to Martin's aid, but it's too late. His fate—public humiliation by inanimate object—has already been decided, immortalized in the halls of MLB Twitter for eternity. And so ends the great baseball drama of our age, without moral or meaning—simply a reminder of the fickle, fleeting nature of dignity in this mortal coil.