Spider-Man apparently found his way into the front row of Wrigley Field on June 19 for a game between the Milwaukee Brewers and Chicago Cubs.

Brewers outfielder Sal Frelick lost control of his bat during a swing in the sixth inning against Cubs reliever Chris Flexen, and the bat wound up lodged in the netting behind home plate. With almost no hesitation, front-row fan Lou Farinella of Des Plaines, Illinois — clad in a light blue polo shirt and khaki pants — jumped to his feet, began climbing the net and rattled the bat free from roughly 15 feet off the ground.

That drew cheers from the crowd and apparent reactions of disapproval from Cubs staff, who initially led the Farinella up into the concourse despite a cascade of boos. The bat, meanwhile, was returned to the Brewers dugout.

“They took it from him,” Frelick said afterward, surprised that he didn’t just get to keep it. “I thought he he got kicked out, and then for my next at-bat he’s just back at his seat but (he told me) they took the bat, though.”

Frelick rectified that after the game, giving the bat back to Farinella, this time bearing Frelick’s autograph.

“That’s why I threw it in the first place; I was ready to be done (with it),” Frelick joked when asked if he wound up using the returned bat later in the game. “I spoke to him when I was on deck because I was surprised he was back there (in his seat).”

Farinella’s return to his seat, in fact, was accompanied by raucous applause. He later posed for pictures with fans in the aisle.

The best part? It wasn’t Farinella’s first memorable run-in with a flung bat at Wrigley Field.

In 1996, Farinella recalled to the Journal Sentinel, he snagged a bat of future Hall of Famer Craig Biggio when the Houston Astros second baseman lost control of it during a game against the Cubs. Farinella was sitting next to an elderly woman and grabbed the helicoptering piece of lumber before it got to his elderly neighbor, catching the eye of legendary Cubs broadcaster Harry Caray in the process.

Caray, in the moment, wondered aloud if he would give the bat to the lady next to him as he stashed it under his legs, sheepishly worried that Cubs ballpark staff would take it away from him. Later in the inning, the camera panned back to Farinella, bat still in his possession.

“Well,” Caray said, “I guess chivalry is dead.”