Yesterday had to be the craziest, most hectic day I’ve experienced in a long while. I had an economics exam in the morning, but that barely fazed me. I had a pre-interview employer information session last night, but I hardly had time to prepare for that, let alone worry about the consequences.

I woke up at 9:30 a.m. and had good news waiting in C-Mail inbox: I had qualified for the second round of interviews with one of my prospective employers. The good vibe was fleeting, as I noticed the interviews were scheduled for Thursday, a.k.a. tomorrow, in New York City. With two prelims and two other interviews already on this week’s calendar, I was faced with a scheduling nightmare. I quickly contacted an employer about rescheduling a Thursday interview and made travel arrangements to get to and from New York City.

In the middle of class I checked my phone only to discover an e-mail explaining that the second round interviews had been moved. My frantic morning had been for naught. I sent out a series of e-mails to reverse all of my morning work and finished up my studying. I ran over to Baker Lab for my exam and was halfway to my classroom when I heard the sound of a fire alarm — just what I needed.

My class was allowed to return to the building in time for our test, which took place without incident. I then rushed home, stuffed a second bagel in my mouth, drove to pick up my dry cleaning, and returned home to print out the papers I needed for the night’s employer information session. I somehow made it to the employer event on time, but my mind was somewhere else.

Throughout the busy day, the same thought kept racing through my head: the biggest baseball game of the year was just hours away. Beginning at 5:07 p.m. yesterday, my beloved Detroit Tigers faced the Minnesota Twins in a one-game playoff to determine who would be the American League Central champion and have the right to take on the New York Yankees in the playoffs.

For months, I watched about 100 Tigers games, read almost 1,000 articles about the team, and spent way too many hours thinking about the team. After more than six months of baseball, all that mattered was one game. That game was scheduled smack dab in the middle of the busiest day of my year.

Throughout the meetings with my prospective employer, my mind kept wandering over to baseball. I felt my phone vibrate several times and I knew my friends were sending me updates, but it would have been inappropriate for me to look. For a few moments, proper etiquette was my greatest enemy.

When I finally left the restaurant, the first thing I did was check my phone. The Tigers had a 3-1 lead in the fifth inning. I was ecstatic. By the time I returned home, the lead had been trimmed to one run. What followed were the most exciting two hours of baseball I’ve ever seen in my life.

I thought arriving home during the seventh inning meant that I had missed two-thirds of the action. Little did I know, the fun had just begun. In the seventh inning, the Twins’ Orlando Cabrera belted a two-run lead-changing home run. My offensively challenged Tigers had no chance. Until they did.

On the second pitch of the eighth inning, Magglio Ordonez, who did not homer between August 16 and October 3, tied the game with his second home run in the last two games. The back and forth battle that ensued should be running on an ESPN Classic loop for the foreseeable future.

I won’t relay all the details — you can check an official recap for that — but three hours worth of interview prep time had to be put off for far more pressing matters: the biggest baseball game of the year. I called my friend to say “Happy 21st Birthday. Sorry, I’m not gonna make tonight’s party.” With every borderline strike call, every diving catch, and even every routine ground ball to an infielder, it felt like my breathing paused. Any pitch could decide the Tigers’ season one way or another.

That pitch came in the bottom of the 13th inning when Alexi Casilla singled in the winning run for the Twins. The Tigers season and my crazy day came to a screeching halt with one mood-deflating single to right field.

Four hours after the usual deadline, I finally sent in this article, exhausted, upset and unprepared for the next day’s challenges. I hardly cared. What mattered was that, for me, baseball season was over. It had been taken away from me in the most devastating way imaginable.