National Baseball League

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1918 Playoffs

And here we are, folks, in the magical, electric world of playoff baseball… where the air itself seems to hum with anticipation. It’s a feeling that grips the young and the old alike—the 10-year-old perched on his father’s lap, wide-eyed, as he snags a foul ball out of the ether, and the veteran slugger, stepping into the batter’s box, dreaming of that walk-off home run that could define a season.

The crowd becomes a single organism, rising and falling, cheering and groaning together, each heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of the game. There’s the manager, pacing in the dugout, thinking back to the long road, coming from ten games back to claim a pennant, while the ghosts of legends past look on, some crowned, some never quite reaching the mountaintop.

And tomorrow… tomorrow, it will be the rookies’ turn to feel the pulse of playoff baseball for the first time. They will step into the Wild Card Series, into the arenas where heroes are made: the New York Yankees against the Seattle Mariners, the Tampa Bay Rays taking on the Baltimore Orioles, the Miami Marlins meeting the San Diego Padres, the Los Angeles Dodgers versus the New York Mets. And let us not forget the teams enjoying a well-earned respite: the Chicago White Sox, Texas Rangers, St. Louis Cardinals, and San Francisco Giants, all waiting in the wings.

Now, the big question on everyone’s mind—will anybody be able to dethrone the Orioles, or will Baltimore repeat and celebrate a fifth World Series victory? One thing’s for certain, folks: the drama, the triumphs, and the heartbreaks are about to unfold, as only playoff baseball can provide.

Yes, indeed, there is no spectacle quite like this. No symphony quite like the sights and sounds and smells of playoff baseball. It is as old as the game itself, and yet, every season, it manages to take our breath away.

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Well, folks, here we are on a fine, breezy afternoon at Oriole Park at Camden Yards… the kind of day that makes you remember why we love baseball so much. The Baltimore Orioles, defending their title, welcome the Tampa Bay Rays for the opener of the Wild Card Series, and what a contest we’ve just witnessed.

Kevin Johnson, on the mound for Baltimore, was nothing short of brilliant today. Seven innings, three hits, one run, six strikeouts—87 pitches of precision, command, and composure. He walked just one batter, and you could see the focus in every throw. The Orioles, trailing early after a first-inning triple by Tampa Bay’s Tony Bolla, would rally late, turning what looked like a tight contest into a 5-1 victory.

And it was a team effort all around. Kevin Johnson earned the Player of the Game honors, but the lineup contributed when it mattered. Salvador Valdez and Jose Rizo drove in key runs, and young Pablo Huerta added a solid two-base hit to keep the pressure on. Baltimore’s defense was sharp as well, only a single error in the field, keeping Tampa Bay contained.

Tampa Bay’s starting pitcher, Oscar Magana, did his best, going seven innings and allowing just two runs on six hits, but the Orioles’ resilience and opportunistic hitting made the difference. Austin Smith tried to keep things close in relief, but Baltimore’s offense was relentless.

The Orioles now take a 1-0 lead in this Wild Card Series, and the big question on everyone’s mind—can anyone dethrone Baltimore, or will they march toward a fifth World Series title? The next game is tomorrow, same place, and you can bet the atmosphere will be just as electric.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we watch this game… for moments like this, when the game, the players, and the fans all come together in a symphony of baseball.

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The New York Yankees came into T-Mobile Park tonight with a four-run lead and, well, let’s just say the Seattle Mariners made them sweat. But in the end, the Yankees held on in dramatic fashion, taking Game 1 of the Wild Card Series, 5-4, in 11 innings.

Chang-keun Pyo was the story of the night for New York. The DH went 3-for-5, with a home run, two singles, drove in two, and scored a run himself. Pyo was clutch, and when Jon Jantz grounded out in the top of the 11th to bring in the go-ahead run, that was the dagger. Yankees now lead the series, 1-0, and will have a chance to close out Seattle in the next two games.

L. Ortiz started for the Yankees and went seven innings, giving up four runs on nine hits with two strikeouts. After six brilliant innings, he struggled with in seventh and left with the game tied, but the bullpen—led by C. Nevarez, who threw four scoreless innings—made sure that the Mariners would get no more.

On the Mariners’ side, C. Galindo matched Ortiz pitch-for-pitch for seven innings, also giving up four runs on eight hits with three strikeouts. C. Berkow pitched four innings in relief, but it wasn’t enough to keep New York from taking the win.

The Yankees gave up some drama in the late innings, allowing Seattle to score four runs in the seventh, but that’s playoff baseball, folks. That’s what makes these games so compelling—momentum swings, high tension, and big plays when it matters most.

Next game is tomorrow here at T-Mobile Park. If the Yankees play like they did tonight—with Pyo at the plate and Nevarez in the bullpen—they’ve got a great shot to sweep the Mariners and move on. But Seattle showed they’re not going quietly.

And that’s what it’s all about—playoff baseball at its finest.

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Alright folks, here’s the deal—the Mets had this game in the bag, up two runs, cruising through seven innings behind a dominant start from Luke Peters. You could almost smell the W in the air at Citi Field… but, uh-oh, the Dodgers weren’t done yet.

Los Angeles rallied in the final two innings, scoring six runs, taking a 6-3 victory in Game 1 of the Wild Card Series. Big hits from Danny Wallace, including a clutch RBI single in the top of the ninth, and contributions from M. Ozuna with a homer in the eighth, gave the Dodgers the edge. Mets bullpen couldn’t hold, and suddenly that comfortable lead evaporated.

Luke Peters, though, pitched like a rock—7 innings, 2 hits, no runs. But credit where it’s due: the Dodgers capitalized on three Mets relievers—R. Gonzalez, L. Morales—who ran into trouble at the worst possible time.

The Mets now have to bounce back tomorrow at Citi Field, but they’ll need better late-inning execution if they want to even the series. The Dodgers showed a lot of fight, and this one is a reminder: in the postseason, no lead is safe.

Player of the Game? Luke Peters for the Mets—just a shame the bullpen couldn’t hold it. Attendance? 38,452. Beautiful day, but tough loss for New York.

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Ladies and gentlemen, if you weren’t at PETCO Park today, you missed one of the wildest playoff games you’ll ever see! I mean, we’re talking fireworks, chaos, pure baseball insanity. San Diego was down 3-2 going into the bottom of the ninth. Miami had scored four in the top half to take a 6-3 lead—and you thought the Padres were cooked. Nope. Not today. Not this team.

The Padres stormed back, scoring four runs in the bottom of the ninth to walk it off, 7-6. Jose Valadez, my friends, came through with the clutch single, and just like that, San Diego steals Game 1 in the Wild Card Series. Unreal. Absolutely unreal.

Shamar Beeman pitched a gem, 7 innings of 5-hit ball, setting the table for that dramatic finish. Miami’s bullpen, led by I. Canal, just couldn’t close the door, and San Diego smelled blood. They went after it and delivered.

This one’s a classic: Padres 7, Marlins 6, and the series is now 1-0 for San Diego. Attendance? 34,073 lucky fans witnessed history today. The next game tomorrow? You better believe it’s going to be another thriller.

Folks, if this is how the Wild Card Series starts, buckle up. This postseason is off to a blazing start.

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Well, folks, if you were at Camden Yards today, you witnessed a team that has made a habit of coming through in the postseason. The Baltimore Orioles, after a 4-2 win over the Tampa Bay Rays, have clinched the series 2-0 and are moving on to the Division Series. And what a way to do it. The Orioles were down early in Game 2, but they showed what a true champion is all about and battled back.

It was Jordan Rizo who led the charge for Baltimore, the first baseman whose bat was alive all series long. He went 2-for-4 today, drove in two, and if you asked him, he’ll tell you he plays the same way in the playoffs as he does in April—just going out and giving his best. But give him credit, he has a way of rising to the occasion, and that’s what makes this team so dangerous.

Pitching was solid, too. Albert Garay went seven innings, gave up just two runs, and earned the win, with A. Jeoffrey closing things out for the save. It was crisp, efficient work, keeping the Rays off balance, allowing the Orioles to build that winning margin.

Now, Baltimore’s eyes turn to the Texas Rangers, who had a bye in the Wild Card round. The Orioles’ quest for a fifth World Series championship marches on, and the dreams of repeating are still very much alive. It’s a new chapter, a new challenge, and one thing’s for certain—this team isn’t done yet.

And as always, at Oriole Park, the fans came out in droves—43,446 of them today—cheering every pitch, every swing, every play. Baseball at its finest, folks. The postseason is here, and Baltimore is very much in it.

Now, don’t think for a moment that the Division Series is going to be easy for the Texas Rangers. Baltimore’s a team that’s been tested, a team that’s found a way to win, and the Rangers are in for a real battle. It’s going to be a series worth watching, folks.

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Seattle – On a crisp October afternoon in the Pacific Northwest, the New York Yankees clinched a spot in the Division Series, taking down the Seattle Mariners, 3–1, to complete a two-game sweep in the Wild Card Series.
And it was a classic postseason ballgame. The Yankees did not overwhelm, but rather chipped away, taking their opportunities when they came and letting their pitching do the rest. Vernon Gehrke, the right-hander, was steady and efficient, working seven innings, scattering six hits, and allowing just a lone run. Then it was the bullpen — Schoeppen slamming the door with two strong innings to earn the save.

And the story, as it so often is in October, came down to one big swing. Geoff Shackford, the catcher, the MVP of this Wild Card Series, delivered the exclamation point: a solo home run in the top of the ninth, sailing out over the wall in right. That blast stretched the lead, quieted the Seattle crowd, and carried the Yankees into the next round. Shackford hit over .570 for the series, reached base at a remarkable clip, and provided the steady hand behind the plate that every club needs in October.

Seattle, for its part, had chances. They put runners aboard, they applied some pressure, but timely double plays and a few defensive gems by New York — Ruiz to van der Linde to Digby, a sparkling trio on the infield — shut down any serious rally.

And so, the Yankees move on. Next up, a date with the Chicago White Sox in the Division Series. The White Sox, with their bye, will be rested, waiting. The Yankees? They come in sharp, brimming with confidence, riding that familiar October wave.

From T-Mobile Park in Seattle, on a clear, cool evening — the Yankees 3, the Mariners 1. New York sweeps the series, and October marches forward.

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So the Mets actually won a playoff game. Yeah, I know, stop the presses. They beat the Dodgers 6–2 at Citi Field. And it wasn’t just a win — they actually looked like a competent baseball team for once. Ricardo Contreras, the Mets’ first baseman — this guy was basically Babe Ruth today. Two hits, four RBIs, a homer — the whole thing. If he doesn’t get free dinner in Queens for the rest of his life, something’s wrong.

Now listen, the Dodgers, they looked like they just rolled out of bed hungover. Raul Vasquez? He lasted not even two innings — two! Gave up five runs, couldn’t find the strike zone, probably couldn’t find the bathroom either. The guy had an ERA of 27.00 after this thing. That’s not baseball, that’s a charity batting practice.

Meanwhile, the Mets crowd — my God, 39,000 people screaming like it’s the World Series. It’s Game 2 of a Wild Card Series! Calm down, people. But you know Mets fans — they haven’t seen joy since the Reagan administration, so let ‘em have it.

The highlight — Contreras comes up in the second inning, two outs, runners on, and boom — ropes a single that drives in two. That was it. Dodgers never recovered. The Mets tied the series 1–1. Tomorrow’s the big one, the decider. And you know what that means: Mets fans will either be planning the Canyon of Heroes parade or back on WFAN crying about how the team ruined their lives again.

By the way, can we talk about the year here? They’re calling this game October 11th, 1918. Yeah, okay. The Mets didn’t even exist back then. Dodgers were in Brooklyn. But sure, why not? Time travel baseball, baby.

Bottom line: Contreras carried the Mets, the Dodgers looked like garbage, and tomorrow somebody’s season goes straight into the shredder.

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Padres Ride Back-to-Back Barnburners Into the NLCS
By Dennis Miller

Well, the San Diego Padres didn’t just beat the Miami Marlins — they pulled the baseball equivalent of Houdini escaping the Chinese Water Torture Cell. Two straight games, two straight 7–6 comebacks. If you scripted this in Hollywood, the producer would roll his eyes and say, “Too implausible, pal. Let’s make it a 5–3 snoozer instead.”

But no, this was real. Friday at Petco Park looked like the Padres were auditioning for a remake of Catch Me If You Can — every time the Marlins thought they had ’em trapped, San Diego slipped right through the net.

The MVP? Enrique Moreno. The guy hit like he was trying to singlehandedly break into Cooperstown this weekend. Two home runs, three RBIs, crossing the plate like it was the finish line at the Boston Marathon. He’s hitting .429 for the series — which, for those scoring at home, is about as rare these days as a Blockbuster Video open past 9 PM.

And let’s not ignore the cosmic comedy here: Miami outhit the Padres 12 to 8, left a small army on base, and still watched it all dissolve in the late innings like cotton candy in a rainstorm. That eighth inning? Three Padres runs, capped by a Manny Williams home run that sent the crowd into cardiac arrest. It’s like the Marlins were reading from the manual titled How to Lose a Playoff Game in Ten Easy Steps.

San Diego now packs its bags for the NLCS against the St. Louis Cardinals, who got to put their feet up and sip martinis with a bye while the Padres were busy re-enacting The Great Escape. The Cards are rested, sure — but the Padres? They’re on the kind of adrenaline high you usually only get after outrunning airport security in a Jason Bourne flick.

Bottom line: two wild 7–6 wins, the Padres proving resilience beats reason, and Miami going home to spend the winter trying to figure out how they became extras in San Diego’s feel-good montage.

I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but if the Padres keep pulling rabbits out of their hat like this, Tony Gwynn might have to come back from the afterlife just to make sure we’re not watching a fever dream.

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Dodgers Punch Ticket to Division Series After Wild One in Queens
By Charley Steiner

On a cloudy Saturday afternoon in Queens, the Los Angeles Dodgers and New York Mets wrote another chapter in October baseball. And for nearly four and a half hours — with rain, rallies, and plenty of nerves — the Dodgers outlasted the Mets, 10–5, to take the Wild Card Series two games to one.

This one, like so many in October, was not without its twists and turns. For five innings, the Dodgers’ bats were silent, and Citi Field belonged to the Mets. But then, as the gray skies gave way to a sense of urgency, Los Angeles struck. Three runs in the sixth, five in the seventh, and suddenly the Dodgers had turned a deficit into a lead.

The star of the show? Bobby Cimabue. The Dodgers’ second baseman was the heartbeat of the offense, driving in four runs, hitting a towering home run, and later adding a triple that broke the game wide open. For the series, Cimabue hit .462 and earned the well-deserved MVP honors. “It’s every guy in this room that made this happen,” he said afterwards, surrounded by champagne and smiles.

And yet, the Mets kept fighting. In the bottom of the ninth, with rain still dripping from the awnings after a 65-minute delay, New York scratched across a run, refusing to go quietly. But as the final out was recorded, the Dodgers — resilient, opportunistic, and deep — were moving on.

Now, it’s the Giants. Dodgers and Giants, baseball’s oldest rivalry, taking center stage in the Division Series. The Giants, rested after a bye, await the Dodgers, who arrive tested, weathered, and perhaps stronger for having survived the Wild Card cauldron.

From Brooklyn to Los Angeles, from the Polo Grounds to Chavez Ravine, Dodgers and Giants in October. It never gets old. And it begins anew next week.

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1918 Division Series

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Texas Knocks Out Baltimore in Game 1

So the Texas Rangers beat the Orioles 6–1. And honestly? It wasn’t even that close. Rangers pitcher Jon Tucker basically put the Orioles in a sleeper hold for eight innings. It was like watching your uncle at Thanksgiving dominate the ping-pong table. You don’t know how he’s still good, but he is, and he won’t shut up about it.

Then you had Jung-hoon Kim. Guy goes yard for a three-run homer in the seventh, and suddenly the Orioles look like they’d rather be at Whataburger. I mean, Kim hit that ball so far it might’ve applied for statehood. And Texas fans loved every second of it. Baltimore fans? They looked like they just found out their Uber driver canceled mid-pickup.

The Orioles had their chances — thirteen men left on base. Thirteen! That’s not a stat line, that’s a bad prom date. They were out there swinging like they were auditioning for “Dancing with the Stars,” except nobody was impressed.

Meanwhile, Texas played it cool. Manager Jason Siry says it was a “no nonsense” game. Translation: “We won, and we didn’t choke. You’re welcome.”

Game 2 is tomorrow. And if Baltimore doesn’t figure out how to, you know, score, this series is going to be shorter than a Lizzo TikTok.

Oh, and one more thing: this game supposedly took place in 1918? Sure. Just like Fauci was calling balls and strikes behind the plate.

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Boomer Rips Into Yankees After Blown Lead

“Alright, lemme just say this right off the bat — this one is a DISASTER for the Yankees. You’ve got a 5–2 lead in the fourth inning, you’re cruising, things look fine… and then, as only the Yankees can do lately, you let it all slip away. You LOSE 6–5 in walk-off fashion. Are you kidding me?

And here’s the real gut punch: Mike Deming, one of the guys you actually trust on this staff, he gets HURT while pitching. So not only do you blow a lead, you lose one of your reliable arms in the process. That’s the definition of adding insult to injury. Literally.

Look, Kyle Centeno and the White Sox — give them credit. Three hits, three RBIs, hits the walk-off in the ninth. That’s clutch. That’s a guy who WANTED the moment. Meanwhile, what do the Yankees do? Leave thirteen men on base. Thirteen! That’s a joke. That’s not execution, that’s a meltdown.

And don’t get me started on Cameron Nevarez out of the pen. Forty-one pitches, can’t get an out when it matters, gives up six hits in an inning and a third — I mean, this guy basically poured gasoline on the fire and handed Chicago the match.

Yankees manager Rickey Arnette doesn’t even take questions after the game. He says he’ll talk ‘if and when they win the World Series.’ Oh really? How about answering for THIS? You just coughed up Game 1 in dramatic, embarrassing fashion, and you’ve got your best pitcher limping off the mound. Somebody’s gotta answer for that.

So now you’re already down 1–0 in the series, and you’re scrambling with a bullpen that doesn’t look like it can hold water, let alone a lead. The Yankees better figure this out fast — otherwise, this is gonna be a short October.”

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ST. LOUIS 3, SAN DIEGO 2 — OR: TWELVE INNINGS OF BASEBALL THAT FELT LIKE A PRISON SENTENCE

Alright, let’s get something straight. Baseball is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be nine innings, a couple of beers, maybe a hot dog, maybe you get home in time to catch the late news. But no — this game? Padres and Cardinals decided to play twelve innings. Twelve! That’s not a baseball game, that’s jury duty. That’s community service.

The Padres — oh my God, these guys. Nine hits, ten men left on base. Ten! You know what that is? That’s malpractice. That’s a war crime against baseball. That’s like cooking a giant Thanksgiving turkey and then throwing it straight in the garbage and saying, “Eh, we’ll just eat Pop-Tarts instead.”

Steven Janczak — St. Louis pitcher, seven innings, nine hits, somehow only gives up two runs. How? Because the Padres couldn’t drive in a run if you handed them an Uber app and free gas money. They put guys on, they move guys over, and then — nothing. Like fireworks that never go off.

And then we get Victor Torres — this guy gets ejected in the 12th inning for arguing balls and strikes. Of course he did. Because when your team’s choking away every chance, the real problem is obviously the umpire, right? Yeah, blame the guy in the mask, don’t look in the mirror, buddy.

Then poor Ivan Canal — comes out of the bullpen, throws almost five innings, and gets torched in the 12th. Walk-off single by Matt Petron. That’s it. Ballgame. Everyone go home. I sat through twelve innings of this nonsense so Matt Petron could hit a dribbler into left. Fantastic.

And let’s talk about Busch Stadium. Forty-eight thousand people in the stands, clear skies, 54 degrees, wind blowing right to left — which means every beer is going cold before you finish drinking it. Hot dogs are nine bucks. Nine bucks! For what? A shriveled piece of mystery meat on a soggy bun. I’ve had better food at gas stations in Jersey.

So now the Cardinals are up 1-0 in the series, and the Padres? They’re looking at Game 2 tomorrow, wondering, “Gee, maybe we should actually score after the third inning.” Ya think?!

Twelve innings. Three and a half hours. You know what I could’ve done in that time? Watched Goodfellas twice. Twice! Or smoked a carton of Marlboros and had time left over for a nap. But no, I watched the Padres forget how to hit for nine innings straight.

Baseball. America’s pastime. My ass.

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Orioles 10, Rangers 4. Game 2. The Division Series.

Darkness fell over Arlington. Globe Life Field. The Rangers thought they could defend their home. They were wrong.

Jordan Rizo… three hits, a walk, three runs, three driven in. He was the fire. The spark in the night. In the second inning, bases loaded — he didn’t need a swing. Just patience. He took ball four. He forced the first crack in Texas’ armor.

Then came the sixth. Valdez and Hyland — home runs like thunderclaps in the silence. Mendoza… broken. The Rangers’ mound was bleeding runs, errors, and doubt.

Texas tried to fight back. Two in the seventh. Two in the ninth. Too late. Too weak. Baltimore didn’t blink. Rizo came again in the ninth — the kill shot. A blast into the night. Final. 10-4.

Kevin Johnson held the shadows for eight and a third. Five hits, four runs. A warrior. He bent, never broke. The bullpen cleaned up the last scraps. Texas couldn’t claw their way out.

Errors piled up for the Rangers. Three of them. They weren’t ready. Not for this. Not for Baltimore.

The series is tied. 1-1. Next stop: Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Wednesday. The night belongs to the Orioles. The Rangers… they’ll step into a hostile city, into a storm they can’t control.

I’ll be watching. From the shadows.

Because baseball, like Gotham… has no mercy.

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MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL
NEW YORK YANKEES AT CHICAGO WHITE SOX
October 14th, 1918 – Division Series, Game 2

Heeey, how ya doin’? It’s showtime, folks! Yankees–White Sox, Game 2, and let me tell ya, this one was tighter than my striped pants after Thanksgiving dinner. Final score? Yanks 2, Sox 1. Ooooh baby, we got ourselves a spooky little pitcher’s duel!

Sean Lorenz — this guy’s got ice water in his veins. Seven innings, four hits, five strikeouts. He’s dealin’ like he’s got the devil himself sitting behind the plate. And guess what? He wins it. That’s right, the Bronx Bombers tie the series, 1–1. Pack your bags, we’re headin’ to New York, baby!

Now, let’s talk offense — or, y’know, the tiny crumbs of it we actually got. Yankees sneak one across in the first, thanks to C. Pyo, who just cranks his second homer of the series — boom, gone! That guy’s hittin’ like he’s got one foot in the grave and the other in Cooperstown. Add a little insurance in the sixth, and that’s all she wrote.

The White Sox? Eh, they tried. E. Rehfeld scores their only run. They had a couple doubles, a stolen base, a bunt — ohhh yeah, real scrappy, small-ball stuff. But every time they threatened? Lorenz just slammed the coffin lid shut. And then, in comes Schoeppen — two innings, three Ks, no hits. Guy finishes it off like a ghost slamming the door behind you. Bang!

Couple fielding hiccups for New York, errors by Shackford and van der Linde. (Hey fellas, you try fielding clean when Beetlejuice is whisperin’ in your ear — it ain’t easy!) Luckily, Chicago couldn’t cash in.

Attendance: 43,838. Weather: clear skies, 54 degrees. Perfect baseball weather — or, in my case, perfect haunting weather.

So here we are: Series tied, heading back to Yankee Stadium on October 16th. Yankees got momentum, the White Sox got headaches, and me? I got popcorn, a coffin seat, and a front-row view. Who ya gonna call for Game 3? Not Ghostbusters — call your bookie!

Heh-heh-heh… it’s SHOWTIME.