On this date 36 years ago, drastic measures were put into motion during the final inning of the final game of the 1980 International League season.

And, boy, for one man, did it really sting.

The game pitted the Toledo Mud Hens against the Pawtucket Red Sox. From the outside looking in, this seemed like nothing more than a harmless Minor League affair, which would close the books on another long season. Some men looked ahead to the Major League September Call-Ups period, while the others turned their focus to bettering themselves for next year.

But two of these men were vying for an International League Batting Title. These two men (Dave Engle [Toledo] and Wade Boggs [Pawtucket]) were about to flip positions in the batting race in a way baseball has never seen before.

Fast forward to the bottom of the ninth inning. Toledo held a comfortable lead of 6-0 as their starting pitcher, Wally Sarmiento, looked to close the books on their season with an exclamation point of a performance.

Sarmiento recorded the first two outs with ease. Up stepped Ray Boyer, a lanky outfielder for Pawtucket, representing the 27th out. Wade Boggs loomed on-deck.

Before we jump into Boyer's at-bat, an important snippet of information needs to be shared for everyone to fully appreciate (or sneer) at Sarmiento's impending antics.

In the top of the ninth, some of Toledo's players MUSTERED UP A POCKET CALCULATOR and figured out that at this exact moment, Boggs was retaining his lead in the batting race by mere percentage points (.30695 to .30670) over Engle.

Also discovered by the men was that if Boggs made one more batted out before game's end, teammate Engle would snatch the title right from underneath Wade's nose.

Now, back to our live look-in.

So, with Wade Boggs lurking, Sarmiento opted to abandon his chance at an elusive complete-game shutout, and intentionally walked Boyer to face a very confused Boggs.

The first pitch to Boggs was delivered. A ball. Suddenly, the moment caught up with Boyer over at first base and it became very clear that this situation became a race against time.

He had to make an out on the base paths before Boggs made a potential out at the dish.

Pitch two was a strike, and Boyer took a few steps towards second in an effort to pique the curiosity of Toledo's catcher.

He did not oblige. Boyer walked to second.

Pitch three was also a strike. More of the same from Boyer. Still not even a bat of the eye from the catcher.

With Boggs now down in the count one ball and two strikes, Boyer had no choice but to do the unthinkable: while Sarmiento was getting set, Boyer began to jog -- yes, jog -- towards home plate, in the most half-assed stealing of home attempt this game has ever laid eyes on.

What did Sarmiento do? Sitting a singular strike away from recording his illustrious shutout, he fired ball two up into the wire screening of the backstop.

Boyer's sheepish effort to get caught off base came to a screeching halt as his cleat hit home plate and he sulked back to the dugout. He had been had.

On the two-two pitch, Boggs grounded out hard to first base. Engle, despite Boyer's best efforts to thwart Toledo's childish foolery, had successfully leapfrogged Boggs in the International League batting race and claimed the crown for 1980

Hindsight is always 20-20, as we all know, and today it's safe to say that 36 years later, it was indeed Wade Boggs who got the last laugh. His .328 career average, 3,010 hits, and five Major League Batting Titles surely make this confusing night in Pawtucket a much more tolerable pill to swallow.