The stars aligned and it looked like it was meant to be. It was a storybook moment, a vindication of our faith in the underdog and our belief in the beautiful baseball. J.D. Martin was coming to the major leagues. The odds were so long and the probability was so infeasibly small, but it happened. And then like a lightning strike tantalizing us for but an instant of glory, it was gone and the storm resumed. The rain could not be heard or felt or seen on the field, in the dugout, or in the locker room, but it was undeniably there. ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Or is it? J.D. Martin was there in the Rays dugout wearing the number 24 and believing despite all the chaos that has transpired since he last appeared in the major leagues with the Nationals in 2010, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, a method to all the madness. Instead, he will be designated for assignment tomorrow without appearing in a game. What kind of world is this? The Tampa Bay Rays are just trying to win games, and they believe that Jesse Crain can help them do that better than J.D. Martin? But after so many things fell into place, how could it all come apart so quickly? How could Martin not even get a chance to show us, even for a moment, that he had defeated the biases against him as a 30 year old with a mid-80′s fastball and returned to the major leagues? This is baseball. It can give us those inspiring moments, but just as often, it can rip out our hearts.