Clutch Treat

Nearly five years later, Luis Gonzalez can close his eyes and return to that early November night.

He can locate the baseball high in Mariano Rivera's fingers, track its path to his bat, feel himself change its course.

And the thought returns, as it has almost every day since.

"I can't believe this is happening to me."

He sees the glory of it still, going on those five years, amused and grateful that it lingers in his memory, and in his hands, and that he has been allowed to take it with him.

Gonzalez won the 2001 World Series with a single in the bottom of the ninth inning of the seventh game. It beat Rivera and the New York Yankees, in his ballpark, in a city that hadn't seen that sort of thing before.

"Floater!" the television guy had shouted. "Center field ... the Diamondbacks ... are world champions!"

By now, Gonzalez is fairly certain he has heard from every person in the ballpark that night, shook their hands, learned what it looked like from the box seats, the top deck, the right-field bleachers.

It is the nature of the clutch performance, which baseball most efficiently refined to a pitcher and a batter and one last chance, and then its life span.

Over 16 days in June, David Ortiz ended three games with three flashes of his bat. A three-run home run beat the Rangers on June 11, a two-run home run beat the Phillies on June 24, and two days later a 12th-inning single beat the Phillies again.

In his career, he has ended 10 regular-season games with walk-off hits. He did it three times in a single postseason for the 2004 Red Sox. Within the game, Ortiz -- Boston's round, affable Big Papi -- has become the preeminent hitter when the air is still, and the outs are few, and the curfew is near.

"Extra innings," Ortiz said with a grin. "I don't like to play extra innings."

It has become a major league phenomenon, and A.J. Pierzynski first witnessed it in Fort Myers, Fla. First game of their Class-A season together, extra innings beckoning, Ortiz won it with a home run.

"That was the start of his legend growing," Pierzynski said. "He enjoys it. He enjoys the moment. He enjoys the pressure. Game on the line, there's nobody I'd rather have up there than David, since A-ball. By far he's the best guy in the clutch."

They all have their shots at it, of course. It is the nature of the batting order, the managers' preferences, the pitchers' courage, all contained in a sport where a few outs a game can still amount to overall excellence, yet one mistimed pop-up can amount to career-defining failure.