There’s no crying in baseball, as Tom Hanks so famously said in “A League of Their Own.”

But all that changed on June 2 when Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga tossed a perfect game, was robbed of it by a bad call at first base by umpire Jim Joyce, and the unfolding events turned into one of the most inspiring sports stories to come along in years.

In an age of whiners and self-professed victims, when so many want to blame their own shortcomings or failures on others (or on the world at large), this was more than just a teachable moment.  It was a revelation.

With two outs in the ninth inning, and having retired the first 26 batters without allowing any base runners, Galarraga fielded a throw from Miguel Cabrera which beat the runner by a full half-step.  Galarraga was about to celebrate, but then he looked back at Joyce with his arms spread wide, giving the safe sign.

What should have cheapest online cialis been only the 21st perfect game in all of Major League baseball was wiped off the books with that one horrendous call.

Galarraga’s response?  A sweet smile.  Then he walked back to the mound and got the next guy out.

No screaming, no cursing, no whining.  Not a peep.  And for a journeyman pitcher who had never even recorded a complete game, much less come anywhere near a perfect one, that’s saying a lot.

In the meantime, the videotape of the first-base play was shown in the stadium and it was clear to everyone, including Joyce, that he had blown the call.  Cabrera had to be physically restrained from Joyce.  Meanwhile, Detroit manager Jim Leyland, one of the toughest guys in baseball, unleashed a red-faced verbal assault against the ump.

Joyce’s response?  He stood and listened to every last word of Leyland’s tirade, without batting an eye.  Umpires don’t normally take two seconds of that kind of abuse, nor do they typically admit their errors or apologize for them.  But Joyce did all of the above.

“It was the biggest call of my career, drugs without prescription and I [blew] it,” he acknowledged after leaving the field.

No excuses, no finger-pointing, no passing the buck.

With tears in his eyes, he simply sought out Galarraga and apologized profusely to the young pitcher.

Galarraga’s response?  He accepted Joyce’s apology on the spot.  Then he hugged him.  Twice.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Galarraga told reporters in the clubhouse minutes later.

Ironically enough, Galarraga was perfect that night.  So the fact that he found it so easy to extend grace to someone who had scratched his name from the history books was even more astounding.

That transformed the entire situation and turned it into something that transcended sports.  It became a lesson in the power of grace.  Next thing you knew, Leyland was extending grace to Joyce, as were the Tigers players, and even the fans.

When the umpires took the field in Detroit the next day, Joyce fully expected to be showered with boos.  Instead, he was cheered.  And in yet another gesture of grace, it was Galarraga who brought the Tigers’ line-up card out to Joyce and his fellow umpires.  Galarraga then shook Joyce’s hand with that same sweet smile on his face.  Joyce was so overcome with emotion that all he could do was slap Galarraga on the back and give a salute to the Tigers dugout.

As Peggy Noonan wrote in the Wall Street Journal, the lesson to parents and children alike was:  “This is how it’s done.”  Indeed, it was a glorious demonstration of the biblical tenet to “love mercy and walk humbly” (Micah 6:8).

In the end, Galarraga pitched an even more perfect game than any other pitcher in baseball.  He is, and probably always will be, the only pitcher to throw a 28-out perfect game.  Even if the record book doesn’t show it.

That’s something no one can ever take away from him.