[jg2977]

Mike Francesa:
Alright, let’s start right here. Because this game—this game—was completely and totally insane. Washington goes up thirteen to one, Thirteen–One, and I’m saying to myself, this thing is over, we can all go home, get the early train.
Mad Dog Russo:
MIKE! MIKE! I’m watchin’ this game and I’m sayin’, this is batting practice! It’s 13–1, the crowd’s goin’ nuts, the Nationals are laughin’, smilin’—and then BOOM! Miami says, “Hold on a second!”
Mike:
That’s exactly right. Because instead of this being a laugher, it turns into a four-hour roller coaster. Miami scores sixteen runs, they get twenty-three hits, and they are one swing away from flipping the entire series on its head.
Mad Dog:
Floyd Holte! Are you kiddin’ me?! Five-for-six! A homer, a triple, singles all over the place! The guy’s on base every five seconds! If Washington loses this game, Holte’s name is hauntin’ them for the next decade!
Mike:
Absolutely. Holte was sensational. But here’s the thing—and this is why Washington survives—they never stopped scoring. They go up early, they answer, they answer again. Kenny Van Cleve hits three home runs, three! Including that two-run shot in the sixth that makes it 17–10, which turns out to be enormous.
Mad Dog:
And Mike, you knew Miami wasn’t done! Ninth inning—BAM! BAM! BAM! Homers everywhere! Yamane! Kawazu! Maxwell! The tying run’s practically on deck!
Mike:
That’s right. Nationals Park went from party to panic in about three minutes. You could feel it through the television. And Washington’s bullpen? Let’s be honest—they were hanging on with duct tape and prayer.
Mad Dog:
This was not a clean win, Mikey! This was survive-and-advance stuff! If you’re a Nationals fan, you’re thrilled, but you’re also sayin’, “How did we almost blow a twelve-run lead?!”
Mike:
But—and this matters—it evens the series. One game apiece. Washington proves they can slug with Miami. Miami proves they are never out of a game.
Mad Dog:
Game Three? Forget about sleep. Nobody’s sleepin’. After this? You throw the records out, you throw the leads out, you throw logic out!
Mike:
Final score: Washington 18, Miami 16. One of the wildest postseason games you’ll ever see. And now, Dog—winner take all.
Mad Dog:
I can’t wait, Mike. I cannot wait.