It wasn’t the Sega Dreamcast version of Mike Piazza hitting two moon-shots in a game.

It was junior catcher Schuyler Mann cranking three round-trippers over a two-game span.

And no, that wasn’t Jesus, but Texas Tech centerfielder Michael Mask who went 3-for-3 with four runs scored, five RBI and three home runs in one.

The Crimson’s team ERA skyrocketed into the warm air of Dan Law Field, and if these weekend statistics aren’t big enough for you, Texas, then I just don’t know what is.

But there are larger issues at hand than just the magnitude of results.

After the Crimson’s sojourn into the Lone Star State, I’m worried.

Who knows if this is just the beginning to a season that can only be compared—once again—to World Series Baseball 2002, when I somewhat pathetically broke every offensive record known to man in Franchise Mode.

Maybe, I fear, I have seen more than just some early-season rust, or a pure statistical anomaly.

What if the Crimson will actually stay on pace to notch 473 runs over the course of a 43 game regular season—while surrendering an unholy 742?

The statistics, on their own, are stunning.

But “it’s a long season, and you gotta trust them,” Annie Savoy tells me in the opening scenes of Bull Durham.

And, ultimately, I do.

Because just as I was about to give up, it was all suddenly back to normal.

On Sunday, March 7, 2004, during the second week of Lent, God restored order to the Harvard College baseball universe, and all was right with the world once again.

As I watched the fourth and final game of the Crimson’s road trip online that morning, I saw Rutherford, N.J. native Frank Herrmann put a stop to all this Texas lunacy and shut down Air Force in a complete game victory, 5-1.