I'd come in for the sixth, a reliever in all senses of the word. The heat had broken Marsh's slider into hittable pieces and his fastball lost the spots it was supposed to go. He left the pounding isolation of the highest point on the field and was seated next to the water cooler, the sweat of the two mixing as he sat bare-chested and used his uniform to mop his bald head. Now here in the seventh, one out away from leaving a man on and stretching as tradition demands, I was debating the ethics of pitching Jesus high and tight.
Excellent post (not sure if it's fiction or nonfiction, or if it matters) by Will Carroll on Baseball Analysts, entitled "The Ethics of Pitching Jesus High and Tight".