High school age community baseball. My last year, I was 15.
Despite me having a .423 batting average, we sucked. Our fielding sucked so badly that we consistently lost games in the double digits.
After having an 0-12 season, we started the playoffs. Everyone makes the playoffs. We were the last seed obviously. The set up was this, we had a morning game...if we won, we would then have to play the next team that afternoon. If we lost, like we expected, then that was it.
We won the first game like 8 to 5. We could not believe it. We then had to play another game, and if we won that, we, the fricking worst team in the league, was two wins from the world series.
We went down by 5 or 6, it went back and fourth. It got to the bottom of the 9th. We got within one when I came up to bat with a man on 2nd and 3rd. The pitcher was a kid I did not get a long with at all. He threw a ball, then a strike, then he threw a ball over the plate but head high. I swung. My father screamed NNNNOOOOOOO as I swung and then YYYYYESSSSSSSSSS! as the ball rocketed over the second basemans head.
Both runners scored.
We lost the next game. But damnit, we did not win a single game all year, and then won two games in one day against hard teams, and I got to be the classic 9th inning winning hit. Great damn day.
ETA my father kept stats on my batting. I went to the batting cage about 5 times a week and hit token after token after token.
ETA the 4th playoff game was the game for 3rd place. We lost that too.