Chad Huffman... Colin Curtis... Greg Golson... Juan Miranda...

The Scranton-Wilkes Barre Yankees.

Once again, a Nobody from Nowhere has saved our Pinstriped, Gotham, millionaire, rockstar butts.

Huffman and Curtis delivered key at bats in that win over LA, when their closer threw 200 pitches. Golson's otherworldly throw to third beat the Rays. Now Miranda's walkoff walk preserves the season.

Because if we lost last night...

Doomsday. We'd have blown at least two in Toronto, then headed to delirious Boston, facing the chance of being humiliated on a tectonic level that would have made the 2004 AL playoffs meltdown look like a rain-shortened exhibition defeat in late February.

We dodged the asteroid. We surfed the tsunami. The volcano missed us.

Thanks to Scranton.


Listen: Our testicles shrank into watermelon seeds in July, after Boston's wheels fell off the go-cart. Texas and Minnesota ran away in the other divisions, leaving us to drunkenly plan our playoff rotation for the next two months. It might have worked, had we not ditched some AL East game-grinders like Johnny Damon and Hideki Matsui for a bunch of National League number-generators -- Nick Johnson, Javier Vazquez and Lance Berkman. We've been dead for so long, we hadn't even noticed.
 
But we had the Electric City Boys. 
 
I'm not sure if you flick turn team spirit on and off, like a light-switch. But I hope we take at least one Scrantonian into October.
 
Mr. Golson, I think Austin Kearns is in need of a long-winter's nap.