I was watching the moment Manny Margot stretched to beat out a ninth inning infield single and pulled his hamstring, and I have to confess: I had the thought. The dream, really. And yes I did feel bad about it: that little surge of excitement at seeing a human in pain. Wow that sounds gross. I mean I knew Margot would be okay. This wasn’t a beanball in the face or some nasty outfield collision. Just a typical non-contact injury born from hustle but also perhaps the start of something magical. 

Either that or a horrific surprise only a hallucination-laced culture could manifest. 

I’m talking of course about the big league debut of Vidal Bruján, which is still mostly hypothetical as I type. 

Could be, in the end, he’s just sat in a tent somewhere waiting for today’s double header to end so he can trek back to Durham. Now that would be scary. 

Bruján has been my favorite player in the minors for quite a while now. Who’ll take his place if he stays in Tampa to become the July King?