A day after the awful story of a 39-year-old father falling to his death while trying to catch a ball thrown to him by Josh Hamilton of the Texas Rangers … baseball reminded us of one of the big reasons why we follow the game. Or sports in general.

Because it takes our minds off truly awful things.

Thus, perhaps I was already inclined to take some weird pride in the actions of one of “my” pitchers tonight in Boston.

The Baltimore Orioles are bad. Again. Seems like it’s been decades now. Part of the problem is being in the same division with the Yankees and Red Sox, but somehow the Tampa Bay Rays have figured out how to compete.

Anyway, Orioles in Fenway, down 9-3 in the bottom of the eighth inning, about to lose their fifth straight and, eventually will give up 10 runs (or more) for the fourth time in five games.

David Ortiz at the plate. Kevin Gregg on the mound.

Now, when I say “Kevin Gregg is my guy” it’s because, yes, he’s on my fantasy ballclub. I don’t have a real connection with the man, even though he basically came up with the Angels. He’s just the closer I took with the 195th pick of our draft, and he’s been OK, if a little free with the bases on balls — 15 saves for a crappy team. If he’s ever been on one of my previous teams … don’t remember it.

But because his stats matter to me now, it means I am more likely to pay attention to whatever it is Kevin Gregg is doing, and tonight he was stepping up for downtrodden small-market franchises everywhere.

So, Big Papi at the plate; the guy likes to stand over the dish, and earlier in the night he had hit a three-run homer. Later, he had lined a hit off the forearm of one of the Orioles pitchers, driving him from the game.

The Orioles have been getting raked. They have been so bad of late that Gregg and Koji Uehara, their set-up man, have hardly pitched in days. That’s why they were out there at the end of a blowout. First Uehara, then Gregg.

Kevin Gregg normally pitches when the Orioles are ahead, so maybe he already was annoyed at the concept of pitching in a blowout. And a little edgy. Tired of losing. Tired of what is already a lost season. And annoyed with Ortiz, in particular.

He threw three consecutive inside pitches to Papi, who does stand up there like he owns the plate and you can’t throw inside to him.

He almost went after Gregg after ball three, but thought better of it. Remember, none of these inside pitches struck Ortiz, nor were they likely to. It’s not like Gregg dusted him, like Don Drysdale or Bob Gibson would have a couple of generations ago.

On the 3-0 pitch, Papi hit a shallow fly to center field. And that’s when things got interesting.

As most people turned to watch the ball in play, and wondered if the Boston runner at third might try to tag up … Ortiz took a few half-hearted steps toward first base. See, when you’re a slugger like him, you don’t actually have to run out plays. It’s beneath your dignity, or something. He probably was thinking of walking halfway, then going back to the dugout to go back to what he does — sit and watch the game.

If you watch the video at the link (above), Kevin Gregg comes off the mound and appears to say something to the dawdling Papi. Probably something like, “Run it out you fat !*#$.”

I like that. A pitcher trying to show up a hitter. Especially when the pitcher’s team is losing 9-3, has been losing all week, has been losing for about 15 years straight, and against a team that is pounding them, and against a guy with three-run homers on consecutive days.

Ortiz then charged the mound, and the best part … Kevin Gregg was there to greet him. As Dustin Pedroia said, after saying he had been watching the ball, he looked at the mound and “two humongous guys” were going at it. (Papi is probably about three bills by now, and Kevin Gregg is 6-6, 240.)

They took a few swings that might have done real damage, had they landed, especially a left hook from Ortiz that barely missed Gregg’s face.

After the game, Gregg was still ticked. “I think you show them that we’re not backing down,” he said. “We’re not scared of them — them and their $180 million payroll.

“We don’t care. We’re here to play the game. We have just as much right to play the game here and we’re going to do everything we can to win.”

I like his gumption. I like his edginess.

Anyone who has played baseball, or even watched it a long time, knows that actions like Gregg’s sometimes can stir up a team that has gone limp or gone dead. It reminds the other guys that, “Hey, maybe we should play a little harder.”

I predict the Orioles win one of these last two in Fenway this weekend. And if the Orioles are honest, at least one of them will give credit to Kevin Gregg for waking them up.