We could list all of the odd to downright bizarre occurrences that took place at Fenway Thursday night, but that would be too time-consuming. It might be easier and more efficient to list the unusual things that didn't happen during the Red Sox' 12-8 win over the Houston Astros.
It was that kind of night.
Let's start with the backdrop:
There was a dramatic dip in temperature from the warm temperatures and humidity that visited the ballpark earlier in the week, and the cooler weather invoked thoughts of the postseason. There was the presence of the Astros, who, in some byzantine bit of logic, have turned into scoundrels in the eyes of Red Sox fans seemingly willing to overlook the fact that their current manager was very much a key figure in the Astros' sign-stealing shenanigans.
And there was, more than any game since Fenway was cleared for full capacity, a vocal revved-up crowd, tired of losing to the Astros -- twice this week, and three times the week before.
That set the stage. But what followed -- a bizarro 12-8 Red Sox win, no one could have forecast.
The lead ping-ponged back and forth nearly every inning. The Red Sox, unable to restrain themselves from swinging at everything in sight earlier in the series, suddenly were very models of restraint at the plate, against, of all people, Zack Greinke, whose command of the strike zone is legendary.
Through five innings, it already felt like a title bout, with the teams nearly spent even though the game was barely half complete. But the fun stuff was just beginning.
In the top of the sixth, the Astros broke yet another tie and forged a one-run lead on a solo shot from the suddenly villainous Jose Altuve. But the fun had just begun.
With a runner at third and one out. J.D. Martinez hit what had all the makings of a routine flyball to right. But a stiff crosswind seemed to materialize out of nowhere and Kyle Tucker began an odd dance in pursuit of the ball, only to have it drop next to him, allowing the tying run to score.
This delighted the crowd to no end, and two batters later, as shortstop Carlos Correa drifted out to shallow center. Recalling Tucker's struggles earlier in the inning, the crowd began to hoot and holler at Correa as the ball came down. And, what do you know, once again, the ball fell in. But second base umpire John Tumpane correctly invoked the little utilized infield fly rule, making Rafael Devers, the hitter, automatically out, as two baserunners advanced at their own risk safely.
Following a pitching change and yet another walk -- with the bases loaded, no less, forcing in another run, a fan vaulted onto the field shirtless and began to show good speed as he raced toward home plate, only to be intercepted by some fine open-fielding tackling by the Fenway security crew.
Next came a hit batsman, yet another walk, and finally, a two-run double from Bobby Dalbec that resembled a heat-seeking missile and threatened to leave a lasting hole in The Wall.
At this point, the game was nearly three hours old and just two-thirds complete. The rest of night, alas, proved anticlimactic. Not a single run was scored over the final three innings and nothing particularly surreal took place on the field.
It was as if the Astros and Red Sox had somehow peaked too early, like the band that makes the mistake of jamming all of its hits into the middle of its show and is left with nothing for the end of the regular set or the encore.
And yet, still there was the highly unconventional double play that took place in the top of the seventh when no one except catcher Christian Vazquez reacted when Yuli Gurriel hit a dribbler a few feet up the third base line. Vazquez pounced from his crouch, picked up the ball inches from the foul line and fired to first to nab Gurriel. In the meantime, baserunner Yordan Alvarez had taken off for second, and in all the confusion, didn't seem to realize that the ball had been in play. He began belatedly jogging back to first, whereupon, he too, was tagged out, completing an inning-ending double play.
In summation, the guy who should have run didn't and the guy who should have stayed put ran anyway. Houston manager Dusty Baker, who has been in the game pretty much continuously since 1967, couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He came out to argue the call, or maybe, with a plan to get ejected, at which he succeeded, thereby saving what was left of his sanity on this night.
Still, the fans had been entertained and then some. And as an added bonus, the Red Sox had saved some face, beating the team which had won five of the first six meetings.
"It was just a fun game,'' concluded Cora. "I think this game was a cool game to watch. A tough game to manage, but in the end, it was fun.''