National Baseball League

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MIKE: Alright, DOG, lemme tell ya somethin’. You talk about big-time pitchers, you talk about guys who rise to the moment — this kid, Sal Cantu, he was unbelievable last night. I mean, DOG, this was vintage October baseball. You get on that mound, hostile environment down in Houston, forty-nine thousand people screamin’, and he silences ‘em. Complete game. Four hits. No runs. Zero. You can’t pitch better than that, DOG.
DOG: MIKE, MIKE, HE WAS LIGHTS OUT! LIGHTS OUT! HE MADE THAT ASTROS LINEUP LOOK LIKE THE 1962 METS! I MEAN, COME ON, FOUR HITS? THEY COULDN’T TOUCH HIM! HE’S OUT THERE THROWIN’ BBs, WORKIN’ QUICKLY, CHANGIN’ SPEEDS—OH, IT WAS A MASTERPIECE!
MIKE: You know what I loved? The pace. No foolin’ around, no nibblin’, none of that modern nonsense with pitch counts and openers. He goes out there, ninety-one pitches, nine innings. That’s old-school baseball, DOG. That’s what an ace does in October.
DOG: ABSOLUTELY! THAT’S A MAN’S PERFORMANCE RIGHT THERE, MIKE! Not one of these five-and-fly guys, lookin’ to hand it off to the bullpen by the sixth! He finished the job! You gotta give Andy Marley credit too—he let him go! None of this analytics junk pullin’ him in the eighth!
MIKE: Exactly. And listen, this was a swing game, DOG. You go down 2–1 to Houston, that’s trouble. But now? Yankees up 2–1, feelin’ good, got the momentum. You win behind your big guy, you send a message. You tell the rest of the league, “Hey, the Bronx is back.”
DOG: OH THEY’RE BACK, BABY! AND I’LL TELL YA, MIKE, THIS CANTU—HE’S GOT THAT LOOK! HE’S GOT THAT BIG-GAME FACE, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN? HE WANTS THE BALL! HE’S NOT OUT THERE CHECKIN’ THE IPAD, HE’S OUT THERE COMPETIN’!
MIKE: (laughing) Yeah, none of that iPad stuff, DOG. Just a guy on the mound sayin’, “Give me the ball, get outta my way.” You pitch like that in October? You become a legend in New York. That’s how you get your plaque in Cooperstown someday.
DOG: PUT HIM IN THE HALL RIGHT NOW! SAL CANTU DAY AT YANKEE STADIUM, MIKE! GET THE PLAQUE READY!
MIKE: Alright, easy, DOG, it’s one start. But yeah—if he keeps doin’ that, he’ll be rememberin’ this game twenty years from now. A performance like that? That’s why you watch postseason baseball.

MIKE: And DOG, how about the hometown kid, huh? Leo Romero. Born and raised right here in New York City, and he shows up in a playoff game like this? Four-for-four. I mean, come on. That RBI double in the fourth—that’s the only run they really needed, and he delivers it like he’s been dreaming about it his whole life.
DOG: OH, MIKE, HE WAS INCREDIBLE! A TRUE NEW YORK KID, OUT THERE SHOWIN’ THE REST OF THE LEAGUE HOW IT’S DONE! FOUR HITS, FOUR! HE’S LOCKED IN, SWINGIN’ WITH PURPOSE, AND THAT DOUBLE? EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT IN OCTOBER!
MIKE: Yeah, DOG, you could see it in his first at-bat—solid single, stayed on the ball, put it where it needed to go. Then in the fourth, runner on second, two outs, and he rips that double into the gap. The guy’s a pro, born and raised in the Bronx—and this is a homegrown Yankee moment right here.
DOG: AND HE DOES IT IN ENEMY TERRITORY, HOUSTON, MIKE! CROWD’S ROARING, FANS KNOW HIS STORY, AND HE JUST DELIVERS. THIS IS OCTOBER MAGIC! NEW YORK KID, NEW YORK TEAM, PLAYOFF GAME—PERFECT SCENARIO!
MIKE: That’s exactly it, DOG. You win playoff games with guys like this. Big stars get the headlines, but it’s your hometown heroes, your guys with a chip on their shoulder, who make you proud to wear the pinstripes.
DOG: I TELL YA, MIKE, CANTU GIVES YOU THE SHUTOUT AND ROMERO GIVES YOU THE CLUTCH HITS—THAT’S YANKEE BASEBALL! THAT’S WHAT OCTOBER’S ALL ABOUT!
MIKE: Yep. Homegrown talent, big-time pitching, and a little storybook magic. You keep getting performances like that, you’re going deep, DOG.
DOG: YOU MIGHT BE PLAYIN’ FOR A PARADE, MIKE! NEW YORK KID, NEW YORK TEAM, OCTOBER BASEBALL—CAN’T GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT!

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Ohhhhhh, LEMME TELL YA! Lemme tell ya what happened at Wrigley, DA BEARS FANS! The Chicago CUBS, yeah, they’re the Cubs, took the Pittsburgh Pirates to school, 9-4, and now we’re talkin’ about a ONE-GAME PLAYOFF, capisce? One game, all it takes, like a da Bears game in December, you feel me?!
DA FIRST THING YA GOTTA KNOW… Israel Fernandez, that third baseman, BOOM, 2-for-4, homers, scores two, drives in two—he’s doing it ALL! I tell ya, he’s like a da Bears linebacker back there, hitting everything in his path. You can’t stop him, nobody!
And the Cubs? They just kept hammering. Woodfin, Padillo, Quiroz, J. Rivera—these guys aren’t messin’ around. Base hits, doubles, stolen bases! I mean, J. Rivera swiping SIX—SIX! He’s faster than da Bears running back on a Thursday night primetime!
Pirates, meanwhile, ohhhh, the Pirates, they tried… they really did. Ramirez gave up eight runs in less than five innings! I mean, it was like they were playing da Bears defense in ’85 against Marino or somethin’, c’mon! They got a little rally late with two in the 7th and one in the 9th, but it’s too little, too late.
AND LISTEN… D. Cranmer comes in and just shuts ’em down after that—8 innings, 4 earned, keeps it together like a Bears offensive line on a cold windy night at Soldier Field. Perfect.
Now it’s all tied, one game to decide who moves on. Wrigley was packed—39,693 folks! The weather? Clear, 54 degrees, wind in from left. Perfect baseball day. Perfect!
DA BOTTOM LINE… Cubs are alive! Pirates better watch out! It’s one game, da Bears style, and you KNOW the Cubs are gonna bring the heat. It’s like the Super Bowl but with baseball bats instead of footballs!
WHO’S GONNA WIN? We’ll see Friday at PNC Park, baby. ONE GAME, BIG TIME. LET’S GO CUBS!

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Ahhh… good evening, everybody. Steve Somers here with you on The FAN — the schmooze is loose, and what a game it was tonight at Citi Field, where the Mets — the Amazin’s, as they used to be called, though not so amazin’ tonight — get absolutely pummeled, embarrassed, shellacked, by the Arizona Diamondbacks, seventeen to seven.
Seventeen! To seven! It looked more like a Jets score, folks.
Now, you know me — I’m a glass-half-full kinda guy, sometimes — but when you give up twenty-three hits in a playoff game, at home, in front of almost 39,000 paying customers, under clear skies, nice crisp fall air, wind blowing left to right at sixteen miles an hour — you can’t blame the weather, you can’t blame the ballpark, you can’t even blame the umpires. You just got pummeled.
And who did the damage? None other than a guy named Jesús Ramos — four hits, a homer, a double, five runs batted in. The guy was practically living on the bases. If the game went any longer, he’d be renting property out there between second and third.
Sean Nicholson? The big blow in the eighth — a two-run double to give Arizona the 10-7 lead. The Mets never recovered. Never!
And you can almost hear poor Bobby Colon — oh, Bobby, remember him? The big man? Four and a third innings, eleven hits, eight runs. The guy probably aged ten years between the third and fifth innings. I mean, by the time the bullpen showed up, the game was already halfway to Phoenix.
Now, Alonzo Hernandez — the Diamondbacks’ skipper — after the game said, quote, “I like our moxie.” Moxie! I love that word. The Mets? They had no moxie. They had mockery. And misery.
So, the Division Series — tied. Two games apiece. Game Five back in Arizona on Friday. It’s gonna be warm, it’s gonna be loud, and if the Mets don’t show up with something resembling a pitching staff, the only thing heading back to New York will be their luggage.
We’ll take your calls at 877-337-6666. Were you there? Did you see this mess? Did you leave early? Did you at least get your money’s worth on concessions before the bullpen melted down? We’ll talk about it all… the schmooze continues, right here on The FAN.
(Steve exhales into the mic)
Ohhh, the Mets… they giveth, and they taketh away. Stay with me.

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“Hello everybody, Harry Doyle here… welcoming you to another thrilling chapter of baseball we swear is professional… though, at times, it looked like both teams were trying to lose this one.”
Well folks, buckle up, because the Seattle Mariners storm into Cleveland and shock the hometown faithful, 9 to 7, tying the series at two games apiece. And if you're thinking that sounds like a normal score, don’t worry — it wasn’t. Not even close.
First inning — BIG TROUBLE!
Seattle jumps out to a 2–0 lead, and Cleveland immediately answers with four of their own. Four! That’s more than the Indians scored in the entire month of June back in ’23. Might wanna save some for later, boys.
By the third inning, Cleveland’s up 6–2, and fans are feeling pretty good. Hot dogs are selling, beers are flowing, and hope is in the air. But hope, as always, is a dangerous thing in Cleveland.
Fast forward to the eighth inning — the wheels fall off, roll into the parking lot, and explode.
Seattle puts up SIX runs. Six! That’s right, the Mariners, who had been mostly quiet since the fourth inning, suddenly remembered they had bats. Doubles everywhere. Triples. Line drives. Jimmy Schultz — who hadn’t hit anything all day except maybe the postgame buffet — smacks a two-run single to give Seattle the lead.
The Mariners dugout erupts. The Cleveland bullpen weeps softly.
And that, folks, was your ballgame.
Let’s talk pitching!
On the Cleveland side, poor Marquos Philippon throws 7 innings of 3-hit ball and STILL gets tagged with the loss. How? Because the minute he left the mound, his bullpen turned into a piñata with a pulse.
Barnard comes in, gives up six runs on seven hits in one inning. One inning! You’d get better results rolling the ball to the plate.
Meanwhile for Seattle, we have V. Brown… who lasts exactly one out. One. He didn’t pitch long enough to break a sweat — or to get his laundry dirty. Fortunately, Gamez comes in, calm as a sleeping cat, throws six innings and keeps Seattle in the game.
Clay closes it out with two clean innings, earning a save and — more importantly — not spontaneously combusting like half the other pitchers today.
Final score:
Seattle 9, Cleveland 7
Series tied at TWO.
And now, the decisive Game 5 shifts back to Seattle — where the fans are loud, the fish are fresh, and the coffee is served stronger than Cleveland’s bullpen performance.
I’m Harry Doyle saying:
“The Mariners win it! … and if you’re a Cleveland fan, might I recommend turning off your TV during the eighth inning next time?”
Goodnight everybody!

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New York Yankees: 12th ALCS berth
1904 1905 1909 1910 1912 1913 1920 1921 1922 1923 1924 1925

MIKE: Alright! HERE WE GO, back on The Fan, Yankees take down the Astros, ELEVEN to SIX, they win the series three games to one, and they head to their SIXTH straight ALCS. That’s right, SIX in a row — count ’em! And the TWELFTH in franchise history. The Yankees are movin’ on, baby!
MAD DOG: HAAAAA! THEY’RE IN THE ALCS AGAIN, MIKEY! THEY CAN’T HELP THEMSELVES! THIS TEAM LIVES IN OCTOBER! I MEAN HOW MANY TIMES ARE THEY GONNA BE IN THESE GAMES?!
MIKE: Listen… you play four games, you score ELEVEN runs today, fourteen hits, big swings all over the place — Rawlings, Rivera, Kim — Kim was SENSATIONAL in this series. Four hits today! Four! He hits .421 for the series. He’s the MVP, no question.
MAD DOG: OH HE WAS GREAT! HE WAS FABULOUS! And the Yankees — they just kept COMIN’ AT ‘EM, Mike! Four runs in the sixth! FOUR MORE in the eighth! They just buried Houston! Astros couldn’t get off the mat!
MIKE: Houston’s pitchers… forget it. Doll? Terrible. Olivarez? Terrible. You can’t win playoff games giving up two crooked innings like that. Yankees blew it WIDE open.
MAD DOG: AND MIKEY — THE DEFENSE! WHAT ARE THE ASTROS DOING?! Three errors! THREE! You can’t win ANYTHING in October playing like that! The Yankees practically GIFT-WRAPPED the ball, and they STILL couldn’t get ‘em out!
MIKE: Meanwhile, the Yankees… they make mistakes too. Three errors themselves. But when you score ELEVEN runs, nobody cares. You clean it up later.
Now listen — the story is the lineup. Rivera with the big three-run homer in the eighth. Rawlings with the grand slam in the sixth. Kim all over the place. And how about the HOMETOWN KID — Leo Romero. Born and raised in New York City — he’s the Bronx boy made good, Dog!
MAD DOG: THAT’S RIGHT! NEW YORK BORN! NEW YORK BRED! HE GETS ON BASE, HE SCORES A RUN, HE GETS A HIT — AND MIKEY, HE’S BEEN DOING IT ALL SERIES!
MIKE: It’s the little things. A walk here, a hit there, puts pressure on the defense. Romero fitting right in with this lineup.
MAD DOG: AND TO THINK — YANKEES TRYING TO END A DROUGHT HERE, MIKEY! 13 YEARS WITHOUT A TITLE! THEY’VE GOT TWO — 1909, 1912 — AND NOW THEY’RE TRYING TO ADD A THIRD!
MIKE: They have a chance. Absolutely. They’re one of the best teams in baseball, they’ve been here before, they know how to win. But this is where it gets tricky — they’re gonna face either the Mariners or the Indians next. That series is tied two-two.
MAD DOG: OH YOU KNOW SEATTLE… THEY GET LOUD OUT THERE! CLEVELAND, THEY’RE DEFENDING CHAMPS! YANKEES DON’T CARE! THEY’LL PLAY ANYBODY!
MIKE: They’ll be favored. Yankees will be the favorite against either team. But as we know, Dog, ALCS is a different animal. You want that third championship? You gotta earn it.
MAD DOG: YOU GOTTA GO OUT AND GRAB IT! YOU GOTTA TAKE IT! YOU GOTTA HIT! YOU GOTTA PITCH! YOU CAN’T LET THE MOMENT GET TOO BIG!
MIKE: And the Yankees… they’re built for it. And now? They’re four wins away from the World Series.
MAD DOG: OH THEY’RE RIGHT THERE, MIKEY! THEY’RE RIGHT THERE! SIXTH STRAIGHT ALCS! HERE WE GO AGAIN!
MIKE: Buckle up. October’s just getting started.

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Pittsburgh Pirates: 4th NLCS berth
1902 1916 1921 1925

Da Superfans enter the room, carrying sausages, beers, and large Cubs-and-Bears-themed belly sizes.
BOB: Sooooo, gentlemen… today we gather to discuss a great baseball contest. A spirited athletic display. A TRUE demonstration of the highest level of competitiveness known to mankind…
ALL: Da Cubs! (they cross themselves)
PAT: Unfortunately, uh… da Cubs did not fare too well today. In fact—dare I say—they got SPANKED. Seven to one. By da Pirates. At PNC Park. A catastrophe of biblical proportions. Like when da Bears forgot Mike Ditka’s birthday.
TODD: A travesty! An embarrassment! A blemish on Great Chicago sports history! And yet… not unexpected.
CARL: Yes. Da Cubs celebrated da Division Series by hittin’ da ol’ snooze button. One run. Five hits. Zero errors… which is about the nicest thing I can say about ‘em.
BOB: Meanwhile, da Pirates—PEW! PEW! PEW!—shootin’ fireworks outta da scoreboard. Seven runs. Ten hits. Two homers. They’re runnin’ wild out dere like Walter Payton on fresh turf.
PAT: And don’t forget—MATT CROKE! Da MVP! Hit .400 for da series! .400! That’s FOUR HUNDRED! Dat’s like givin’ a man four supersized Polish sausages and tellin’ him to finish ‘em without breakin’ a sweat. EASY WORK.
TODD: Two home runs, five RBI, five runs scored. The man is a one-man wreckin’ ball. Like da fridge Perry bowling over a buffet line.
CARL: Pirates movin’ on to da NLCS for da fourth time. FOUR. Da Cubs? Goin’ home. Again. Like they always do.
ALL: (mournfully) Da Cubs…
BOB: Now, let us not forget the REAL star of da game: Tommy Loder.
PAT: AH YES! LODER! DA IRON MAN! DA LEGEND! PITCHES ALL NINE INNINGS! A COMPLETE GAME! Only five hits! One run! Not a single walk! He’s like da pitching version of Mike Ditka riding into battle on a giant bratwurst!
TODD: A true warrior. A hero. A man who would survive a direct collision with a runaway deep-dish pizza.
CARL: And hey, da Pirates stole FOUR bases! FOUR! Dis is not baseball… dis is broad daylight larceny.
BOB: And da Cubs? Only thing dey stole today were da hearts of disappointed fans.
PAT: But hey, look on the bright side—Cubs made the playoffs. They gave us hope. And then ripped it away like a plate of wings during halftime.
ALL: (nodding) True. True.
TODD: So who da Pirates face next?
CARL: Either da Diamondbacks or da Mets.
BOB: Ah da Mets. Natural rivals to da Bears. I don’t know why, but it feels right.
PAT: And da Diamondbacks? Eh. Not worried.
ALL: (chanting) Da Bears… Da Bears… Da Bears…
BOB: So in conclusion, da Pirates march forward… da Cubs go home… and Chicago sports fans return to their natural state of heartburn, indigestion, and faint optimism.
ALL: Da Cubs!

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Arizona Diamandbacks: 5th NLCS berth
1905 1907 1908 1924 1925

MIKE: “Alright, lemme tell ya somethin’ folks… this just wasn’t the Mets’ year. And I know, I KNOW, the Mets fans got all excited after those first two games — ‘Oh Mike! Oh Mike! They’re gonna shock the world!’ — but NO. No they’re not. You don’t win a series when your pitching collapses like THAT. You can’t do it. You can’t do it!”
DOG: “MIKE, THEY HAD NO PITCHIN’!! NONE!! NONE!! They gave you a tease, Mike! A TEASE! They get ya all excited and then BOOM — five runs in the fifth inning and the whole house comes crashin’ down! YOU CAN’T HAVE IT!!”
MIKE: “They shocked Arizona in Games 1 and 2. Absolutely. And then the Diamondbacks — give ‘em credit — they come right back, they stabilize, and the Mets start givin’ up line drives all over the yard. Eleven hits. Errors. Runners left on base. You’re not winnin’ like that.”
DOG: “NO CLEAN BASEBALL! NONE! FIELDIN’ ERRORS! THE WEAVER KID DROPPIN’ BALLS IN RIGHT FIELD! YA CAN’T GIVE TEAMS EXTRA OUTS IN OCTOBER, MIKE!!”
MIKE: “Arizona walks right into the NLCS again, this time to face Pittsburgh — second straight year, fifth time in franchise history — and Jason Gonzalez, MVP of the series. HITS EVERYTHING. Guy’s hittin’ .500! Every time he steps up it’s a line drive somewhere. You know what that is? That’s an MVP. That’s an MVP, Chris.”
DOG: “MIKE, THEY COULDN’T GET ‘EM OUT! THEY COULDN’T! YOU GOT GUYS RUNNIN’ AROUND THE BASES LIKE IT’S BATTING PRACTICE! AND THE METS — THEY HAD CHANCES! ELEVEN HITS! BUT THEY CAN’T CASH IN! LEAVIN’ GUYS ALL OVER THE BASEPATHS LIKE THEY’RE GIVIN’ ‘EM AWAY AT A GARAGE SALE!”
MIKE: “Exactly. You get to Game 5, anything can happen, but the Mets didn’t make ANYTHING happen. Arizona did. And now they move on. They face Pittsburgh in the next round. And the Mets? Back to Queens. Pack it up.”
DOG: “ANOTHER YEAR, MIKE! ANOTHER YEAR OF AGONY! THEY DRAG THE FANS IN AND THEN POOF! IT’S GONE!!”
MIKE: “That’s it. That’s the Mets. Every time. Every year, except for 1921-23. And folks — don’t call me and tell me you were surprised. You weren’t surprised. You KNOW who they are.”

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Cleveland Indians: 7th ALCS berth
1902 1919 1920 1921 1923 1924 1925

“Well folks… how about that! The Cleveland Indians are movin’ on to the ALCS for the seventh time in club history — and the sixth time in the past seven seasons. That’s right. If you’re keepin’ score at home, and I know you are because you have nothing better to do, this team practically has season tickets to the ALCS at this point.
And what does that set up? Why, it’s everyone’s favorite matchup: yet another Yankees–Indians ALCS. Yes, the rivalry that refuses to die. The Yankees? The big, bad Bronx Bombers with the payroll bigger than the GDP of several small nations. The Indians? Well, they’re the team that keeps makin’ them look silly every October — except that one season. We don’t talk about that one. It ruins the narrative.
Final score today: Cleveland 2, Seattle 1. Nail-biter. Real pitchers’ duel. Could’ve gone either way but the Indians decided they wanted it more — or maybe the Mariners decided they wanted to go home. I’m not here to judge.
David Girard goes seven strong innings, gives up only four hits. Not bad. No walks, no homers, no nonsense. Then Grondin shuts the door for the save. That’s good, because I’ve seen him try to close games, and let’s just say… medication was involved.
Series MVP? Jesús Satiago. Hit .312, got on base almost half the time, drove in six runs. Solid citizen. Hits like he owes the ball money.
Attendance: 39,344. Weather: partly cloudy, 56 degrees. Wind blowing right to left at six miles per hour. Perfect weather for the guys in the outfield to misjudge fly balls — but miraculously, nobody did.
So here we go again. Yankees. Indians. ALCS. Buckle up. Or don’t — I’m not your father.
Stay tuned for more postseason baseball, or as we like to call it… the month when Cleveland remembers how to be the center of the universe.”

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1925 League Championship Series

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“On a clear October afternoon in Arizona, the postseason revealed one of its enduring truths: momentum in baseball can change in an instant — and sometimes, it never lets go.”
In Game 1 of the National League Championship Series, the Arizona Diamondbacks seized that momentum early and never relinquished it. A 14–6 victory on their home field was less a contest and more a statement — the kind of performance that echoes well beyond nine innings.
For Arizona, the offense was relentless. Fifteen runs, twelve hits, power, patience, opportunism — every facet showed itself at some point. And at the center of it all was third baseman Tony Flores, the Venezuelan-born sparkplug who has become one of the most reliable postseason performers in the sport. Two hits, including a grand slam, two walks, four RBI — the kind of line that underscores both talent and timing.
There was a moment, in the bottom of the second inning, that felt like the turning of a dial. With no one out and the Pirates holding a slim 2–1 edge, Austin Montes stepped in. Michael Orton delivered a curveball that didn’t quite reach its intended destination, and Montes lashed it into the gap for a two-run double. In a blink, Arizona led 3–2.
It was a lead they would never surrender.
From there, the Diamondbacks layered run upon run — two in the fourth, one in the fifth, four more in the sixth, and three in the seventh. It was a display not of brute force alone, but of the depth that championship teams often possess: seven different players drove in runs; five reached base multiple times.
For Pittsburgh, the numbers told their own story. Fifteen hits, six runs — and still, not nearly enough. They hit, they hustled, they pushed the ball into the alleys… but they could not keep Arizona’s lineup quiet. Not on this afternoon.
And in October, sometimes the difference between triumph and frustration is simply which team capitalizes most fully on the moments they’re given.
From Chase Field, the Diamondbacks take Game 1 of the NLCS — a commanding start in a long series. Game 2 awaits tomorrow night, and as the shadows stretch across the desert, the Pirates will search for answers, while Arizona will look to carry the rhythm of this game into the next.
Postseason baseball — dramatic, unpredictable, and at its best — timeless.

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MIKE AND THE MAD DOG MODE: ON — fast, loud, overlapping, arguing, and somehow still deeply informed.
MIKE:
Alright, lemme tell ya somethin’, DOG — this is more of the same. You’ve seen this movie. I’ve seen this movie. The Yankees have seen this movie. It’s the same movie every October: Indians absolutely own the Yankees in this matchup. OWN ‘em!
Nine-and-one in the ALCS over the past three seasons! NINE AND ONE! You can’t make it up!
DOG:
MIKEY, MIKEY, IT’S EMBARRASSING! EMBARRASSING! EIGHTEEN TO FOUR! AT HOME! IN THE BRONX! You can’t lose like that! YOU CAN’T LOSE LIKE THAT IN YOUR OWN BALLPARK! They cleared out the Stadium! I’m tellin’ ya — by the seventh inning, you coulda landed a plane in left field. Nobody there! NOOOOBODY!
MIKE:
Seventy-five percent of the crowd gone. SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT! Come on. These fans have seen bad baseball before — this is the NEW YORK YANKEES we’re talkin’ about. But even THEY said, “I’m outta here. I’m beatin’ the traffic.”
DOG:
I STILL don’t know how the Yankees swept these guys in ’21. I STILL don’t get it! Every other time? The Indians treat ‘em like a doormat! They wipe the floor with ‘em, Mikey! WIPE! THE! FLOOR!
MIKE:
Oh my gosh, it was a beatdown from pitch one. First inning — PHIPPS — BOOM! Two-run shot! Crowd’s still findin’ their seats, eatin’ their pretzels, and it’s THREE–NOTHIN’ already. You can’t start the ALCS like that!
DOG:
And then — then! — they don’t stop! Eighteen runs, twenty-two hits! They got guys hittin’ doubles, triples, home runs, the whole lineup hittin’ rockets!
Niccolai on the mound for Cleveland’s cruisin’, no pressure, feet up, sippin’ lemonade, throwin’ strikes. Meanwhile the Yankees got SIX pitchers and every one of ‘em looks like they’re throwin’ batting practice!
MIKE:
You look at that Yankee pitching line — it’s a disaster, DOG. It’s an absolute mess. Jenkins — SIX RUNS in not even two innings. ERA? Twenty-five! TWENTY-FIVE! I mean, at some point you gotta pull the plug, show mercy.
DOG:
And Phipps — he’s laughin’! Goin’ three-for-five, four runs scored! FOUR! He gets hit by a pitch and still scores! Even when they HIT him he scores!
MIKE:
Let me tell ya somethin': this rivalry is completely one-sided. The Yankees? They think they're the big, bad empire. The Indians? They’re the ones runnin’ the building! They OWN the Yankees in October. No contest. No debate.
DOG:
They SHOULD refund the fans! “Here’s your money back, sorry about the four hours we just wasted!”
MIKE:
Tomorrow they play again. Same stadium. Same matchup. The question is — can the Yankees even COMPETE? Forget winning — compete! Show signs of life! Because right now, this looks like a varsity team and a JV team.
DOG:
MIKEY — MIKEY — if they fall behind EARLY tomorrow? GOODNIGHT! I don’t care if it’s one run! You fall behind one-nothin’, two-nothin’ to this Indians team? They’re dead! D-E-A-D!
MIKE:
Indians take Game 1. Domination. And if you’re the Yankees, you better hope this isn’t the start of another four-game humiliation. Because right now? It looks like it is.

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HARRY DOYLE MODE — dry, sarcastic, with that “I can’t believe I’m calling this” energy.
“Well folks, if you stuck around for all nine innings — and judging by the crowd, not many of you did — the Cleveland Indians absolutely flattened the New York Yankees today, 18–4.
A real nail-biter… if you passed out in the third inning.”
“Once again the Tribe continues their, uh… habit of turning the Yankees into decorative floor mats. Over the last three years, the Indians are now NINE and ONE against New York in the ALCS. Nine and one! That’s domination, folks. That’s ‘hope you have insurance’ domination.”
“And if you’re a Yankees fan? Well, the less said about this one, the better. Eighteen to four. At home. In your own shiny ballpark. The fans started heading for the exits by the seventh inning. Three-quarters of them gone, off to beat traffic or maybe take a long walk off a short pier.”
“Star of the game? Easy. Ryan Phipps — from Provo, Utah — who went 3-for-5 with a homer, drove in four, scored four, probably sold hot dogs between innings, and still had time to sign a few autographs on the way back to the dugout.”
“He got the scoring started early with a two-run shot in the first, and let’s be honest — that’s all Cleveland really needed. The rest was just… well, decorative padding. Like throwing extra pillows on the couch when the couch already looks fine.”
“Tomorrow these two teams go at it again, though after today’s performance, the Yankees may want to consider pretending they’re someone else.”
“This is Harry Doyle, saying: Indians win big, Yankees lose big, and if you missed the game — congratulations, you made the right choice.”

[jg2977]

On a sun-splashed October afternoon in Phoenix, baseball offered one of those extraordinary reminders of why the game has captivated us for generations: its unpredictability, its capacity for chaos, and its enduring ability to astonish.
What unfolded at Chase Field was, quite simply, one of the wildest contests you will ever witness. A game where numbers seemed to lose meaning, where momentum swung like a pendulum in a storm, and where fundamentals — particularly on the Arizona side — appeared to take an unscheduled holiday. Six errors by the Diamondbacks. Eighteen total runs allowed after the seventh inning. And then, in an 11th inning that defied logic, the Pittsburgh Pirates put up twelve runs — twelve — to turn a tight, seesaw battle into a 24–13 victory.
It was a night when stars emerged from unexpected corners. Batu Baykurt, from SeaTac, Washington, delivered a performance that will be remembered long after the box scores fade: five hits in seven at-bats, four runs scored, a constant presence on the bases, and the heartbeat of Pittsburgh’s offense. And then, in a moment worthy of a postseason montage, Cedric van Dongen — the young man from Katwijk in the Netherlands — stepped in and delivered the pivotal blow. A two-run single in the 11th inning that put Pittsburgh ahead to stay and ignited the avalanche of runs that followed.
This wasn’t merely a baseball game — it was a test of stamina, of resilience, of the strange and wondrous nature of October. Inning by inning the story grew more improbable. Arizona’s offense, to their credit, answered nearly every Pittsburgh surge, matching power with power — three home runs, seventeen hits, flashes of brilliance that showed why these teams are here in the first place. Tony Flores, Jonathan González, J. Chapa — they all delivered moments of drama and defiance.
But in the end, the Pirates found just a bit more. More poise, more execution, and on this day, more good fortune in a game where luck seemed to pivot on every swing.
The series now moves to Pittsburgh tied at one game apiece — fitting, perhaps, after such a spectacle. What comes next is impossible to predict. But after a night like this, one thing is certain: baseball — in all its madness, beauty, and resilience — still has the power to surprise even the most seasoned among us.
And that is what keeps us watching.

[jg2977]

MAD DOG (in full throat):
THIS IS EMBARRASSING, MIKE — EMBARASSING! You’re the NEW YORK YANKEES, the big, bad Bronx Bombers, and you give up THIRTY-TWO RUNS in two games at home?! AT HOME, MIKE!! I MEAN COME ON! What are we doin’ here?!
And how about this — the Cleveland Indians, Mike, the CLEVELAND INDIANS — TEN WINS and ONE LOSS in the last ELEVEN ALCS games against the Yankees! It’s DOMINATION! It’s a mismatch! It’s the varsity vs. the JV! And the Yankees are lookin’ like the JV, Mike!
MIKE (calm, reasonable):
Dog, listen. I understand the frustration. You can’t give up 14 runs in Game 2 and expect to win. You can’t get out-hit 19 to 9. You can’t walk seven hitters. The Indians had traffic all afternoon, and Zakaio Eneki — listen, the guy’s unstoppable right now. He’s Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Albert Belle rolled into one. Six RBIs, Dog. Six.
MAD DOG:
MIKE — ZAKAIO ENEKI! Who is this guy?! From Aua, American Somoa? He’s the best hitter in the series by a COUNTRY MILE! AND the Yankees let him beat them AGAIN!
And how about Phipps? Ryan Phipps — the STAR OF THE GAME — from Provo, Utah! Two hits, three runs scored, driving the Indians offense all day! You’d think the Yankees might try… I don’t know… GETTING HIM OUT?!
MIKE:
The Yankees had opportunities. Bases on early, some good swings from Kim, Centeno, Romero — but look, Dog, when your pitching completely collapses, it doesn’t matter. The bullpen was a disaster again. Portillo comes in and immediately pours gasoline on the fire. Ramirez isn’t any better. They’re giving up crooked numbers every inning.
MAD DOG:
Crooked numbers?! MIKE, THEY GAVE UP A SEVEN–SPOT IN THE SEVENTH! THEN FOUR MORE IN THE NINTH! You can’t make this up! It’s a horror show! It’s HALLOWEEN BASEBALL!
And this is the ALCS! This ain’t May in Kansas City! You’re in the big boy chair now — ACT LIKE IT! Cleveland’s laughin’ on the flight home! They’re goin’, “Hey, we’ll take 2-0, thanks very much, see ya Thursday in Cleveland.” And the Yankees? The Yankees are pickin’ up the pieces and prayin’ the season doesn’t end in four.
MIKE:
You go to Cleveland down 2–0, Dog, it’s tough. You need a gem in Game 3. You need somebody to step up and stop the bleeding. You need a performance — you need dominance.
MAD DOG:
Yeah, well, you need MORE THAN THAT. You need a miracle! You need Moses parting the Red Sea! YOU NEED THE BASEBALL GODS TO GIVE YOU A DO-OVER!
Because right now, Mike? Right now, the Indians look like the better team — by a LOT. Yankees better wake up, or this thing’s gonna be OVER before the weekend!
MIKE:
Game 3 Thursday. Season on the line. Yankees have to respond.
MAD DOG:
RESPOND?! THEY BETTER DO MORE THAN RESPOND, MIKE — THEY BETTER SHOW UP!

[jg2977]

Well, this was a game that combined power, precision, and a little bit of Pittsburgh flair, as the Pirates took Game 3 of the League Championship Series from the Arizona Diamondbacks, 10-4, at PNC Park. It was a performance defined by the shortstop, Matt Croke, from New York City, who had one of those afternoons every team hopes for but rarely sees. Three hits in five at-bats, including a home run and a triple, four runs batted in, and two runs scored of his own — a complete offensive package.
The defining moment came in the bottom of the fourth inning, with no one out. Croke crushed a sinker from Antonio Mendoza into the right-field stands for a three-run homer, turning a tight 4-1 game into a commanding 7-1 advantage for Pittsburgh. From that point forward, the Pirates never looked back.
Croke’s power was complemented by the steady contributions of outfielder R. Ortega, who went 2-for-4 with two runs scored and two RBIs, and third baseman D. Verni, who added four RBIs of his own. Together, they turned what might have been a close game into a statement.
For Arizona, there were bright spots in J. Gonzalez, whose fourth-inning home run provided a glimmer of hope, and C. Grissett, who reached base multiple times, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the Pirates’ balanced attack. Mendoza struggled early, giving up seven runs over just three innings, putting Arizona on its heels from the outset.
On the pitching side, Tommy Loder of Pittsburgh was efficient and resilient, going the distance in nine innings, allowing eight hits and four runs while striking out two. It was the kind of performance that gives a team both confidence and momentum in a series where every run counts.
Matt Croke, without question, the star of the game, carried Pittsburgh offensively and helped ensure the Pirates take a 2-1 series lead. And with tomorrow’s Game 4 looming at PNC Park, the Pirates will look to continue that momentum, while Arizona will need to regroup quickly if they hope to even the series.

[jg2977]

MIKE: Alright! HERE WE GO! Yankees—Indians—Game 3—Cleveland! And lemme tell ya, Dog, this was NOT a pitchers’ duel. This was not exactly Koufax vs. Gibson. This was batting practice, okay? Yankees win it 15-8, they pound out twenty-one hits—TWENTY-ONE!—and they’re back in the series, 2-1.
MAD DOG: HAH! Mikey, it was a GONG SHOW out there! You’re talkin’ about Janczak, he gets the win somehow—someway—gives up fifteen hits in five innings! FIFTEEN! And they STILL win by seven runs! That’s how bad Cleveland was today! TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE pitching performance!
MIKE: Yeah, but listen—Kyle Centeno, the kid from Perth Amboy, he’s the star. Three hits, homer, double, two RBIs, plays great. And Andy Miller—big moment—third inning—hits a ball that Cleveland kicks around like they’re playing hacky sack on the shores of Lake Erie! Two-run single turns into chaos, Yankees go up 5-2, and they never look back.
MAD DOG: And what is Kevin Neubauer doing after the game?! “IF and WHEN we win the World Series.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Down 15–8 at home and the guy’s channeling Popovich! Take some questions! Face the music! You got steamrolled!
MIKE: Dog, Dog, relax. It’s a seven-game series. They’re still up. The Indians can still hit. Eighteen hits today! Santiago? Three hits, four RBIs. Phipps? Couple doubles. They’re not dead yet.
MAD DOG: They scored EIGHT runs and LOST by SEVEN! What do ya want from me?! This is NOT championship-caliber pitching!
MIKE: Tomorrow—big game—right here in Cleveland. Yankees trying to even the series. Indians trying to stop the bleeding.
MAD DOG: And Janczak better send Centeno a bottle of champagne for SAVING HIS HIDE! HA-HA-HA! Unbelievable game. Yankees back in it!
MIKE: Alright that’ll do it. Yankees 15, Indians 8. Series now 2-1. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Back after this.