Chasing history, right on time

 He caught the Babe as autumn beckoned, and that was perfect timing on a couple of levels. Next-to-last day of summer,  ninth inning in the Bronx, the Yankees trailing Pittsburgh -- and here came Aaron Judge with his cudgel, launching another into the September night.

That was No. 60 for Judge in this season of seasons, and it kept the pinstripes alive in a game they would ultimately win 9-8 over my Cruds. And now Roger Maris is there for the taking, too, in a summer when a game that clings to its history like no other desperately needed an Aaron Judge to evoke it.

It's a game for nuclear sluggers and nuclear arms with very little nuance these days, devoid of so much of the art that makes it fascinating. The hit-and-run, the steal, the bunt, the chess match of advancing the runner: If you want to see much of that anymore, check out the Little League World Series every August. The tykes do it all better than the big-leaguers these days.

MLB is a home run or a whiff these days, and games that endlessly drag their feet. It's why baseball experimented with a pitch clock in the minors this summer, and why the majors will institute it next summer. They're also getting rid of the shift, because batters can't go to the opposite field anymore and MLB has decided it won't compel them to learn. So one good thing, and one bad thing.

In the meantime, we have at least gotten the Summer of Judge, and a stirring of ghosts. Telling the old Babe Ruth stories/myths, for the millionth time. Pulling out "61*", with Barry Pepper as Roger Maris, and watching it one more time. Imagining what Judge's monument will look like in Yankee Stadium, after he clubs No. 62 and becomes the Yankees' single-season home-run king.

Marveling at the way baseball, a game of numbers, so often finds the whimsy in them.

The next homer Aaron Judge hits, after all, will be No. 61.

Roger Maris is the last, and still the only, American Leaguer to hit 61.

He did it 61 years ago.

In the summer of 19 ... 61.

A synergy to delight in, as summer turns to fall.