City had 71% possession on Saturday. They attempted 23 shots to Fulham’s 7. They completed 646 of their 726 passes. Fulham attempted just 276. If those stats aren’t enough, the passing charts bear out the notion that this really was a match between the haves and the have-nots.

And so it is. Like Chelsea before them, and Leeds before them, and whoever else before them; City resembles everything that is wrong with current economics of football.

No, it’s not about wealthy owners coming in, “splashing the cash” (dear lord that cliche is awful), and buying whomever they wish. And it’s not it the media touting bullshit narratives like Mancini didn’t get all the transfers in he wanted; despite dropping nearly £90m over the summer.

Nor is it having loads of depth off the bench; that’s what good teams always have.

What’s so maddening is how they, like Barcelona, Real Madrid, Bayern, et al, are freely able to amass talent and own not just the best players, but all the not-so-best-but-still-damn-good players too. And just pay them to basically do nothing in the reserves, or make an occasional cup appearance.

Honestly, what the heck is Victor Moses doing at Chelsea (anyone remember Steve Sidwell in a Chelsea shirt?) Or Nuri Şahin at Real Madrid? I’m sure we could flood the comments with other examples.

For all the chatter about how a salary cap will fix this issue; it won’t. It’s the fact that players get new contracts whenever they sign for a different club that spurs on the stratification. The wealthy owners will just continue to spend, spend, spend and ultimately kill the game not just because they can, but because the players are all willing accomplices.

Take a look at City’s bench. I won’t list the names, but how much they cost: £1m, £22m, £16m, £24m, £25m, £27m, £22.5m. Nearly £140m just sitting there; and that’s not including their annual salary. Most of them are bonafide stars, but several aren’t. And lets look at the players who didn’t even feature because of injury or whatever else: Jack Rodwell (£12m), Sinclair (£6.2m), Maicon (£3.5m), Kolo Toure (£16.m).

No wonder the likes of Wayne Bridge and Roque Santa Cruz are still on City’s payroll; and Adam Johnson and Jô were for so long.

I’ve written about this before, but how can any sporting system that allows this to happen even consider itself legitimate?

Take baseball in America: a sport that everyone loves to hate because the New York Yankees always have the highest payroll and  it’s the least socialistic in its share of revenue and payroll. “The Yankees buy everyone” is often the refrain; as the masses turn their attention to the NFL. Yet what limits the Yankees literally buying everyone like the big European clubs do is that they can only give good players BIG contracts when they are free agents. And so they often have to make do with the likes of Eric Chavez and Raul freaking Ibanez.

Players like Matt Weiters and Manny Machado from my local Baltimore Orioles, who will probably someday play for the Yankees, are going to remain an Oriole until their contracts run out. There’s little incentive for them to join a better team and possibly not play much if they’re going to get paid the same. It behooves them to play out their contract, and hopefully do really well in their contract year.

Yet if this was footy, they would be Yankees by this time next month when the season’s over, mainly because they’d see a huge increase in their salary. And the fans wouldn’t bother come watch the sport anymore.

This isn’t sour grapes, just something that annoys me. And I wish we didn’t have to play these type of teams as I get no enjoyment from  it; win, lose, or draw.

(Okay, I enjoy the win. But we all know the narrative won’t be about us winning, but them losing).

Last Thursday I went to what could be considered the best sporting event I’ve ever attended. Here are some photos.

But first, some context: For those unaware, the Baltimore Orioles are on par for their first winning season since 1997, back when Fulham was in League One and Mohammed Al-Fayed just purchased the club. Not only that, they’re in a pennant  race with the New York Yankees and the Tampa Bay Rays. Going into Thursdays game, the Orioles were just one game back from the Yankees for the division, and clinging onto a wild card spot. A win and they’d be tied for the AL East.

Going into the season, the Orioles were projected by pretty much every pundit to lose about 90 games. During the offseason they hired a GM who last held a job in George W. Bush’s first term. I couldn’t name their starting lineup heading into opening day. Anticipation was quite low. So, no one saw this season coming.

Thursday was also a night to commemorate the greatest Oriole ever and my childhood hero: Cal Ripken Jr. All season the Orioles organization has been unveiling bronze statues of its greatest players and managers: Frank Robinson, Brooks Robinson, Earl Weaver, Eddie Murray, Jim Palmer, and Cal. Imagine if Johnny Haynes had been alive for his statue unveiling; it would have been a similar raucous atmosphere. Take one part unbelievable pennant race and one part celebration of a player who breaking Lou Gehrig’s 56 year old record for consecutive games played, and you had a sold out Camden Yards.

(I should note that whereas weeks prior it was barely managing 12,000 attendance, Thursday had a capacity crowd of 46,298. And a majority were actually Orioles fans; Camden Yards often has capacity crowds when the Yankees, Red Sox, Phillies, and other come to town. But it’s often filled with those fans. Sort of like a Wigan-United match).

So on Wednesday evening when my friend calls me, offering a ticket four rows back from the Orioles dugout, I hopped on it. I had to. Enough of my typing, here are the photos:

Say, did I mention how great these seats were?

Cal’s giving a speech where his statue is unveiled. Images of his playing days scrolled across the top screen. I was hoping a poster I have of him eating Esskay hotdogs would appear. It didn’t.

Cal threw out the first pitch from the actual pitcher’s mound, not at the front of the dirt where most people do. We celebrated. Also note the only man sitting down: that’s legendary Orioles manager Earl Weaver. When we walked onto the field, he kicked dirt over the pristine home plate, like he used to so many times before. We celebrated.

Game time! Beer time! That’s “Fancy” Clancy Haskett. He’s such a storied presence at Camden Yards a documentary was made about him. He usually sells around the higher priced sections, so I don’t seem him around often. Needless to say I had to a buy that $8 Natty Boh.

The Orioles raced out to a 4-0 lead in the first inning, thanks to some wonderful hitting and a balk (hah!) by the starting Yankees pitcher. It was only the first inning, the stadium was unlike anything I had seen before. There were so many people I couldn’t get any cell phone reception; my buddy missed a text from a friend that was waiting outside for his ticket.

Also, ace pitcher Jason Hammel was returning from a lengthy leg injury just in time for the playoff run. That’s him pitching to Alex Rodriguez (and look at all the fans!!!)

Here’s the Oriole bird hugging his dancing partner after the 7th inning stretch. The Orioles always play John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy“, which really makes zero sense as Baltimore is not the “country”, nor does it have a rural history like the rest of the state (it was a big port and factory town). Nonetheless, a football club should adopt this.

Anyway, my point is that the stadium was still electric. The O’s were taking a 6-1 lead into the 8th. Confidence was high. But then the Yankees played like THE YANKEES, and scored a run in the top of the 8th. Manager Buck Showalter left reliever Randy Wolf, who had been filling in quite well for the prior two innings, in too long. Despite there being two out, there runners were on first and second, and the score only 6-2.

Here is Wolf walking sadly to the dugout, unable to get that final out.

And so out came releiver Pedro Strop: a talented player but also a headcase and a stress inducer. He could strike out the side but he’d still give you a heart attack.

Strop proceeded to give up a single, throw a wild pitch, walk a batter, walk another batter (and thus the 4th Yankees run), and then give up a single that would score two more Yankees. So, after leading 6-1 in the top of the 8th with two out, the game was now tied 6-6. Balls.

Like he had with Wolf, Buck left Strop in for far too long. The mood, a little on edge when Wolf was relieved too late, turned quite sour when Strop was finally taken out. This is him walking to the dugout, dejected.

Thankfully rhe very next batter popped out to end the Yankee rally. But the damage had been done. What was shaping up to be a historical night was going to be a historic collapse.

The stadium was still in a rather negative mood, and next Oriole batter Adam Jones, the team MVP, quickly found himself down two strikes. Oh brother. Here we go again.

But then things changed with the next pitch: Jones crushed a solo homer to left field. Just like that, the Orioles were back on top, 7-6. Hooray!

The next batter, Matt Weiters, singled to left. After him Mark Reynolds, a player that was so maddeningly inconsistent and error prone that he was just days away from being traded in July, continued his miraculous form and hit a homer to left field: his second home run of the evening and eighth in seven games. O’s up 9-6. Jubilation!

The Yankees changed pitchers, but it made no difference. The very next pitch, the first by Yankee reliever Boone Logan, was hit to right field by designated hitter Chris Davis (who had a rather poor night up to this point). Back it went until it was gone. Home Run. 10-6 Orioles and zero outs. Pandemonium!

There’s no photos of this particular part of the narrative as I was too busy celebrating and high fiving and screaming in joy. I did manage to take this shot though: the scoreboard read “O-Mazing”. It truly was.

The Orioles would cling to the 10-6 lead and win the game. They were tied for first. It was well after 10pm. The stadium was still full. What the heck is happening?!?

Here’s Adam Jones giving an interview about his game winning home run.

Moments later, he was pied in the face.

And so concluded the greatest game I’ve ever been to. It had it all: drama, home runs, blown leads, emphatic play, hereos honored, dancing Orioles, Natty Boh…

The Orioles would go on to split the weekend series with Yankees: they lost on Friday, won on a blown call Saturday (WHO CARES!), and got shelled on Sunday. They’be now 1 GB behind New York for the AL East, back to where they were on Thursday morning. There’s still 22 games left.

And this is the magic, and also the problem, of baseball: how one game, often lost in the marathon that is the 162 game season, can become so memorable yet be quickly forgotten.

We’ll always remember and discuss a football result because they only happen once a week. Baseball? Barely enough time before the next one begins.

Timmy Gelles is a writer for Craven Cottage Newsround. A Fulham fan since 2006, he’s caught up in this Oriole Magic. E-mail him or follow him on twitter.

An otherwise tame behind-the-scenes video of the player’s headshots gets real at about the 1:53 mark, thanks to our new German right back.

Er, someone call the police. Now.