National Baseball League

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Astros Grind Out Extra-Inning Win, Send Yankees Packing
By Jake Taylor
Minute Maid Park – October 11, 1916

This wasn’t some flashy, home-run derby kind of ballgame. This was hard-nosed, grind-it-out, make-the-play-or-go-home baseball—the kind I’ve seen chew guys up and spit 'em out. And when the dust settled, it was the Houston Astros standing tall, outlasting the New York Yankees 2-1 in 10 innings to punch their ticket to the ALCS.

Let me tell you—this one had all the drama. Tight strike zones, missed chances, great pitching… and a walk-off that felt like a gut punch to the Bronx.

You gotta tip your cap to both starters. Yankees’ J. Rodriguez was nails—7.2 innings, just one run. That one run? A solo bomb by M. Rivera in the second inning. Guy took a high fastball and deposited it about ten rows deep. That kind of swing? That’s guts. That’s postseason poise.

Now, Bill Foulk for the Astros? He wasn’t just good—he was locked in. Seven innings of shutout ball, had Yankees hitters guessing like they were trying to read a knuckleball in the dark.

Game stayed 1-0 Houston into the ninth. That’s when the Yankees got gritty. Down to their last strike, S. Bottesini ropes a single to tie it up. I’ve been there—bases loaded, full count, postseason on the line—and let me tell you, that swing takes ice in your veins.

But the Yankees’ bullpen? They blinked first. In the bottom of the 10th, B. Morine delivered the knockout blow—a two-out RBI single that sent 47,000 strong into a frenzy. It wasn’t a moonshot, it wasn’t flashy, but it got the job done. And in October? That’s all that matters.

Astros win the series 3-1. They’re headed to the ALCS to face the White Sox, and you can bet that’ll be a slugfest.

Series MVP? Andres Segovia. Didn’t put up gaudy numbers, but he played center field like a general directing traffic and made all the right plays. When your center fielder’s making you feel calm in the late innings, that’s how you know you’ve got a ballclub.

Yankees? They’ll be back. They’re young, they’re scrappy, but tonight wasn’t their night. Baseball’s cruel like that sometimes. You do everything right for eight and two-thirds, and then… one pitch. Boom. Season’s over.

But for Houston? The road to the pennant keeps going. And if tonight’s any sign, they’re ready to claw for every inch.

—
Jake Taylor, former catcher, full-time gamer.
"You hang 'em, I bang 'em—unless you throw a curveball. Then I call time and hope the kid behind me can hit it."

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alds

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��️**“Come on down, Pittsburgh Pirates, you're the next contestant in the League Championship Series!”**��️
– Bob Barker, probably.

That’s right, folks, we had ourselves one heck of a dramatic showdown at PNC Park, and the actual retail price of grit, resilience, and a little late-inning magic was paid in full by your Pittsburgh Pirates! Final score: Pirates 7, Phillies 6—in 10 innings of edge-of-your-seat, showcase-level baseball.

Let’s spin that wheel of baseball fortune, shall we?

�� OUR BIG WINNER today is Jay McWilliams! Come on down, Jay! With the game tied in the bottom of the 10th and the pressure higher than a Plinko chip on the edge, Jay delivered a walk-off single—a hit that punched Pittsburgh’s ticket to the National League Championship Series. A big round of applause for that man!

�� But wait—there’s more! Center fielder Jon Jantz is taking home the MVP of the Division Series! That’s right, Johnny boy walked away with a shiny new trophy after hitting .294 and helping power the Pirates past a feisty Phillies squad. Jon, tell them what else you’ve won… that’s right—another round of baseball against the San Francisco Giants!

Now let’s talk about what you could’ve won, Philadelphia…

⚾ The Phillies brought the thunder early, jumping out to a 2-spot in the 1st and a Jeremy Gangler Jr. 3-run homer in the 6th. Jeremy, you gave it your all. You were even named Player of the Game despite being on the losing side! But unfortunately, four errors from your teammates today? That’s a Showcase Showdown slip-up, folks.

And how about our showcase of pitchers?

�� A. Glenn of the Pirates gave us 5.1 innings of “come on, stay on the line!” style drama. Meanwhile, the bullpen trio of Herandez and Witcher came in to say, “don’t worry, Bob—we’ve got this!” Witcher tossed two shutout frames and took home the win, and just maybe… a brand-new car? (Okay, maybe not—but the NLCS berth is a close second.)

�� Now, a few parting gifts:

14 hits for the Pirates, because why not?
Homers from S. Nicholson and Gangler Jr.
A total of 9 runners left stranded by Pittsburgh, proving once again that drama costs nothing, but it’s worth everything.
�� And finally, Philadelphia… you gave us some thrills, some chills, and one fantastic series. But as they say in the Showcase Showdown… if your bid is over, you’ve gone bust. Thanks for playing, and don’t forget to have your manager spayed or neutered on your way out of October baseball.

�� Congratulations to the Pittsburgh Pirates, and good luck in the next round—where the Giants await behind Door No. 3!

I’m Bob Barker reminding you: Help control the postseason population—win your games early!

[jg2977]

nlds

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1916 League Championship Series

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Morty Seinfeld Reporting, ALCS Style — Live from Guaranteed Rate Field!

Listen, let me tell you something about this ballgame — it had more errors than your cousin Marvin trying to program a VCR. And don’t get me started on the wind, it was blowing like the air conditioning in Del Boca Vista when the board forgets I get cold!

So here we are, October 13th — Friday the 13th, if you believe in that kind of thing — and the Houston Astros come into Chicago, and what do they do? They take Game One of the ALCS right out from under the White Sox's noses! I’m not saying the Sox didn’t try, I’m just saying... they looked like they forgot what month it was!

The score was 5 to 2, Astros win. Ay, yai yai.

Now let’s talk about that Luke Peters, this kid pitched seven innings, gave up six hits, only two runs — and not even both earned! That’s the kind of arm you want if you're moving to Phase III at the condo board meeting. Solid! Reliable! He’s the kind of guy who refills the seltzer before it runs out. And then they bring in this A. Reyes fella? Two innings, shuts the door. Not a peep! Like the security guard at the shuffleboard courts when the Boca boys show up.

And that Jon Dunham — he had two doubles! One in the 4th, one in the 6th. The man was running like he left his car parked at a meter. Two runs scored, just kept trotting around the bases like he owned the building. Impressive!

Now Chicago... oy, Chicago. The White Sox looked like they forgot they were playing baseball, not hosting a yard sale. I saw more life in a Bridge game at the rec center. I mean, two errors, runners left everywhere — they had nine guys stranded! Nine! That’s more than the turnout for Elaine’s dance recital!

That J. Huskey came in off the bench — two hits, an RBI, even a double. Looked good! If you ask me, that kid should’ve been starting from the get-go! What are these managers thinking? You got a hot bat, you use it! It’s like Frank Costanza always says, "You put the good players in the game!"

And poor M. Terry on the mound for the Sox — 7.2 innings, 108 pitches, guy threw his whole arm out there! But three earned runs and no run support? That’s like organizing the community garage sale and nobody shows up to help. It’s not right!

So now the Astros are up 1-0 in the series. They’re feeling good, they’re staying in a hotel with working elevators, and they’ve got momentum. Meanwhile, the White Sox? They better wake up before Game Two, or they’ll be back in their apartments watching the rest of the postseason on that tiny TV with rabbit ears.

Alright, I gotta go — Helen’s yelling something about the thermostat again. White Sox fans — don’t give up hope! And remember: if you leave men on base, you lose the game! That’s baseball. That’s life. That’s Boca.

– Morty Seinfeld, signing off from Guaranteed Rate Field.

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"I don’t believe what I just saw..."

Ladies and gentlemen, good evening from Oracle Park in San Francisco, where the fog may linger on the bay but the Giants brought nothing but clarity and fire to the diamond this afternoon. In the opening salvo of the National League Championship Series, it was the home team — the San Francisco Giants — who commanded every inning, every pitch, and every ounce of momentum, defeating the Pittsburgh Pirates by a final of 6 to 1.

And oh... what a performance from Shamar Beeman.

Nine innings. Seven hits. Just one run — and that was all the Pirates could scratch across. Beeman was calm, composed, and commanding. He pitched like he was reading a bedtime story — smooth, deliberate, never hurried. He worked his corners. He kept the ball on the ground. He painted like Picasso, and today, he painted a masterpiece.

In the third inning, the Giants struck. Ricardo Contreras with a ringing two-out double gave San Francisco the lead — and from that moment, the sails of the Pirates began to slacken.

But it was the sixth inning where the floodgates opened — and the sound you heard from the crowd of 43,966 wasn’t just applause. It was a roar. A storm. A thunderclap.

With the bases loaded, Joey Linkletter — the kid from center field — stepped up and delivered a two-run double to right-center. It was the kind of hit you dream about in the backyard as a boy. It split the outfield, it cleared the bases, and it drove the nail in the coffin. From there, the Giants never looked back.

Linkletter finished 2-for-4, 2 RBIs, and a run scored — and that smile on his face afterward? That was pure October baseball. "I'm just doing my job," he said. A quiet answer — but a thunderous impact.

The Pirates? They tried. They battled. Sam Arena had three hits. Luis Romero drove in the lone run. But their bats never found rhythm. And poor Eder Gavarrete — he battled through eight innings, but the Giants wore him down with eleven hits and a tide of relentless pressure.

And if you’re a San Francisco fan tonight, you go to bed smiling. Your boys took Game One. Your ace delivered. Your lineup did damage from top to bottom. And now you’ve got a foot in the door.

Game Two is tomorrow — same park, same city. And if it’s anything like what we saw today?

Folks, I can only say:

"Go crazy, folks... go crazy."

This is Jack Buck. From Oracle Park... good night.

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My fellow Americans… it was a fine day for baseball.

And I must say — if you were in Chicago this Saturday afternoon, you witnessed something special from the boys in orange and navy. The Houston Astros, in true American fashion, came into town, rolled up their sleeves, and got the job done. They defeated the Chicago White Sox by a score of 6 to 2, taking a 2-0 lead in the American League Championship Series.

Now, let me tell you about a man named Will Goldsmith. At 34 years old, some might say he’s nearing the twilight of his career. But not today. No, sir. Today, Mr. Goldsmith stood tall on that pitcher’s mound like a lighthouse in a storm. He gave his team 6 and 2/3 innings of hard work — eight hits allowed, two runs, and not a single walk. You know, when I was a young man in Dixon, Illinois, we used to call that grit.

And how about Miguel Rivera? That catcher of theirs — tough as nails, calm under pressure — delivered a two-run double in the very first inning. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud. But it mattered. And in the great tradition of baseball, that hit set the tone for everything that followed.

The Astros played as a team, united in purpose — from Edward Arciniega’s home run to Jon Dunham’s two-hit day. Even the young men coming out of the bullpen — J. Crocker and A. Reyes — did their part, just like any good citizens in a shared effort.

Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tip my cap to the White Sox. They fought hard. They’ve got some fine players, no doubt about it. L. Satterwhite knocked in a run, W. Cortez doubled twice. And they’ll live to fight another day.

But today… belonged to Houston.

As we look toward Game 3, down at Minute Maid Park, I can’t help but feel a swell of pride. Not just for one team, but for the game itself — America’s pastime. In an age of change, it’s nice to know there are still nine innings, sixty feet six inches, and the crack of the bat.

So to the Astros, I say: well done. To the White Sox: keep your chins up. And to baseball fans across this great land, I say: the spirit of October is alive and well.

Thank you, and may God bless this game we love.

[jg2977]

Yo, check it, man — it went down in Frisco today. We talkin’ straight-up playoff baseball, and the Pirates? They came in, all low-key like, and just jacked one from the Giants, yo. 3-2 final, NLCS Game 2 — series is tied, dawg.

So like, my dude Ryan Grater for the Giants? Bro was dealing. Seven innings, just two hits, one run, barely even sweated. Had the Pirates lookin’ lost out there, man. Dude was throwin’ darts like he was playin' in a bar league with Badger or somethin’.

But yo, then they hand it over to Quintana, and it’s like, boom — the whole thing falls apart like Jesse’s RV. Two runs in the eighth. Big hit by Leo Romero, man. Only got one hit all day, but it was the one that mattered, you feel me?

Manager dude from San Francisco, he was all salty after. Said, "We had the game right there for the taking." But nah, y’all just left it sittin’ on the counter like cold fast food. You ain’t want it bad enough, yo.

And don’t sleep on Julio Cardenas, man. My boy walked, like, everybody — eight walks, for real. Tied some kinda record or somethin’. Still gave up only two runs, so I guess it’s cool. Kinda like that time Skinny Pete got caught stealin’ a Slurpee but talked his way out of it. Wild.

Yo, big ups to Brian Davis too — dude came through. Two hits, an RBI, and he got caught stealin’ but hey, at least he was tryin’. Most cats out here just stand around waitin’ for someone else to make a move.

So now they takin’ this party back to the ‘Burgh. Game 3 at PNC, baby. That place gonna be lit, no cap.

Anyway, I’m out. Gotta bounce — got a gig tonight with my band. But remember: Pirates snatched Game 2 like it was a flat-screen from a pawn shop. Peace.

[jg2977]

Ahh, ¡mira nomás! What a beautiful day in Houston, eh? The kind of day where you show up to someone’s house — maybe you knock, maybe you don’t — and you just take what’s yours, nice and easy. That’s what the Chicago White Sox did today, amigo. Came into Minute Maid Park, smiled real big... and whack! Twelve runs on the board. Boom.

See, I love this game, man. The strategy, the rhythm... it’s like a well-made torta — every piece matters. And today? The White Sox? They made themselves una torta de destrucción total, my friend.

Let’s talk about this guy — Christian Villa, huh? Four hits, three RBIs, even scored twice. They call him “The Wild Elk of the Wasatch” — qué nombre tan ridículo, but hey, the man delivers. Doubles, singles, little smile on his face the whole time. Very polite, very effective... muy profesional.

And Manuel Felix — three hits, two of 'em doubles, three RBIs. This guy, he doesn’t swing a bat. He negotiates. He walks up, says “Papi, you give me this pitch, I put it over there.” And then boom — two more on the board.

But you know what I really like? That fifth inning. Six runs, baby. That’s not just scoring — that’s making a point. That’s the kind of inning where you lean back, sip your coffee, and say, “This one’s over.”

And Houston, ay caray, what happened, compadres? Your boy J. Hester — he didn’t make it past the second. Forty pitches and he’s getting chased like he owes someone money. Then D. Andrews shows up, gives up four more runs in one third of an inning. You don’t walk into Minute Maid like that and survive. That’s how you get disappeared, hombre.

Meanwhile, J. Solis for Chicago? ¡Ese sí sabe lo que hace! Seven and a third, only gave up two unearned runs. No panic. Just silence. He’s the kind of guy I’d invite to the hacienda. Cool. Efficient. And he doesn’t ask too many questions.

So now the series is 2-1, Astros still leading, but the White Sox? Están oliendo sangre. They’re circling now. You better be ready tomorrow, Houston. Because these boys from Chicago? They're not just playing baseball. They’re sending messages.

Okay, I gotta run. I got... business to attend to. But I’ll be watching, amigo. Siempre estoy mirando.

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YEAH!!! LET’S GOOOO, BABY!!! WOOOO!!

Listen up, ese — THIS GAME WAS INSANE! Like, boom-boom, fists-flying, thirteen innings of full-on PIRATE MADNESS, man! The Pittsburgh Pirates straight-up LOST THEIR MINDS and took the Giants for a ride they’ll NEVER FORGET, bro! YOU FEEL THAT?! I FEEL THAT!!

It was Leo Romero, ese. LEO FREAKIN’ ROMERO!! This guy’s an ANIMAL, man — THREE HITS, two walks, and the walk-off hit that just BROKE SAN FRANCISCO IN HALF, bro! Bottom of the 13th, nobody out, dude sees a fastball from Mike Eldridge and just DESTROYS IT! Pirates win, BOOM, walk-off, CHAOS!!

Six to five, final score — but it felt like a hundred to zero after that, man. You see the way Pittsburgh just kept coming?! Like a freight train on fire, bro! Every time San Francisco scored, Pittsburgh was like “YOU THINK THAT'S ENOUGH?! HUH?! YOU THINK THAT’S ENOUGH?!” — and then they’d SMACK 'em right back! YEAHHH!

San Francisco thought they had it, man. They came in like “Oh yeah, we scored in the first, we’re good.” NO, BRO!! Not when Romero’s cooking and B. Davis is getting THREE hits like it’s a snack, and A. Black smacks a double like a psychopath!

But I gotta tell you about that bullpen, man — OH MAN, THE BULLPEN! Farley, four innings, ZERO runs, ZERO walks, just CHOMPING dudes like he's on something! That’s PIRATE BASEBALL, HOMES! HARDCORE! INTENSE! LIKE ME!!!

Meanwhile, the Giants? Ay, bro… I almost feel bad. Almost. V. Luevanos, he tried. B. Frank, he blew it. And Eldridge? He was the last candle in a dark room, man — and Romero BLEW HIM OUT!!

You know what this game was?! THIS GAME WAS TIGHT, BRO!!! STRAIGHT METH BASEBALL! Pure adrenaline, NO LETTING UP! I LOVE THIS GAME!!!

Pirates lead 2-1 now, ese. Tomorrow’s gonna be CRAZY. And you know what?! I’M GONNA BE THERE! I’m gonna be in the stands, shirt off, SCREAMIN’! LET’S GOOOOO!!!

YEAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
🔥🔥🔥 BASEBALL IS CRAZY, BROOOOO!!! 🔥🔥🔥

[jg2977]

Yo, yo, YO! What’s up, brosephs?! It’s Badger in the house, and I just watched the sickest, most legit bonkers playoff baseball game since... like, ever. I’m talkin' walk-off city, baby! Straight-up home plate euphoria, man! You ever get goosebumps so hard they got goosebumps? Cuz Houston just did that.

So check it — it’s Game 4, ALCS, right? White Sox vs. Astros. Minute Maid Park. And bro... Andres Segovia, dude’s a straight-up legend now. This cat came up bottom of the 9th, tie game, and just — BOOM! — laser beam single. Game OVER. Crowd went full meth-rage euphoria, man. I spilled my cheese fries. Twice.

But like, let’s rewind, yeah? Chicago comes out SWINGIN’, bro. Manuel Felix, the guy’s like Iron Man with a bat. Two hits, a ribbie, a walk, and a stolen base like zoom! — dude was everywhere. But then they hit a WALL named Bill Freakin’ Foulk, man.

Seven innings. Five hits. One run. Dude’s got ice in his veins and like, steel in his elbow. He was just dealin’, yo. Like “Breaking Bad” levels of control, like he was cooking a perfect batch out there — 94 pitches, 55 strikes. STRAIGHT HEISENBERG STUFF.

And my dude Delgado? Man was dialed in. Two doubles like, back-to-back tacos on Taco Tuesday, and he’s stealin’ bases like it’s Grand Theft Diamond. Total menace, man.

Now Chicago — they weren’t bad, right? But they just… I dunno, they ran outta gas or something. Like your buddy's van on a cross-country vape run. They got that early lead, sure, but then the Astros started nibblin’, bro. Like little rats chewing at your ankles in a horror movie. One run here... one there... and then BOOM — Segovia with the final kill shot.

Astros up 3-1 now, man. They’re like one game away from taking the whole ALCS and hittin’ the World Series like it’s the main stage at Coachella. And if they play like this again tomorrow? Bro... it’s over.

So yeah, in conclusion, this game was tight, the walk-off was dope, and baseball is the greatest sport to watch while stoned, hands down.
Peace, love, and playoff vibes, broskis. Catch you next game.
✌️⚾🔥

[jg2977]

SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS AT PITTSBURGH PIRATES
October 18, 1916 – PNC Park
Written in the voice of Ignacio "Nacho" Varga

You don’t always see how close something is until it slips past you. San Francisco found that out tonight. One bad inning. That’s all it takes. One missed cue, one mistake you didn’t even realize you were making. The Pirates saw their shot in the seventh. They took it. Now they’re one win away from the World Series.

They weren’t flashy. They weren’t loud. But they didn’t flinch.

Aaron Glenn—lefty, quiet, didn’t give up more than he had to. Seven innings. Four runs. Not perfect, but he kept them in it. That’s all Pittsburgh needed. Because that seventh inning? That’s where it turned.

Giants came out strong. Three-run first. A triple from Dominguez, all three runs brought in. They looked like they were in control. They felt in control. But in baseball, control is temporary. Pressure builds. The ones who can take the weight—that’s who survives.

By the sixth, Jantz cracks a triple, scores. Then comes the seventh. Giants’ starter, Stevens, had been solid. But the cracks were there. He just didn’t see them. Omar Macias pinch hits, ties it up. Brian Davis steps in—two outs. Could’ve been nothing. Could’ve been over. Instead, he slaps a single. Go-ahead run. Just like that. Giants never recovered.

You can feel it slipping and you can’t stop it.

Pirates closer C. Witcher came in, cleaned up like a pro. Two innings, no hits, no walks. Ice. Cold.

Giants’ manager? Said they’re not done. “We didn’t get this far to give up.” Thing is, I believe him. But believing and winning ain’t the same thing.

Game 5 is tomorrow. Same park. Same wind cutting through right field. Pittsburgh’s got the edge. But edge doesn’t mean safety. It just means you’ve got something to lose.

And everyone’s got something to lose.

Final: Pittsburgh 5, San Francisco 4
Pirates lead series 3–1.
Next game: PNC Park. Cold. Tight. No room for mistakes.

—Nacho

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Houston Astros: 2nd AL Pennant
1903 1916

��️MLB NETWORK BROADCAST RECAP
Presented by your MLB Tonight crew: Greg Amsinger, Harold Reynolds, and Dan Plesac

Greg Amsinger: "Folks, we’ve got a final in Houston! And with a 1–0 shutout win over the White Sox, the Astros are headed back to the Fall Classic! It's been over a decade since we’ve said those words—but today, they are ringing loud and clear in Minute Maid Park. Houston wins the ALCS, 4 games to 1!"

Harold Reynolds: "How about this game, boys? Just a classic pitcher’s duel. Luke Peters—put that man in the history books. Nine shutout innings, five hits, didn’t walk a soul. And let me tell you, this wasn’t luck—this was command, this was guts, this was championship-level pitching!"

Dan Plesac: "Oh, absolutely, Harold. I’ve said it all series: Peters is the kind of guy who thrives in big moments. Look at his pitch count—just 93 pitches over nine innings. That’s efficiency, that's control, and that’s dominance. He’s 4-0 this postseason with an ERA under one. That’s video game stuff!"

Greg Amsinger: "And let’s not overlook how this one was decided—bottom of the seventh, clutch doubles from Edward Arciniega and Calvin Shepard, the only run of the game coming with two outs. That was a professional piece of hitting with the season on the line. The crowd at Minute Maid? Electric."

Harold Reynolds: "But let’s also give some credit to Chicago’s Mark Terry—the kid was nails. Eight innings, just one earned run, and he struck out two. He left it all out there. The White Sox just ran into a buzzsaw tonight."

Dan Plesac: "And this Houston team? They're locked in. Quiet series for the bats overall, but the bullpen’s been sharp, the defense crisp, and now they wait—Pittsburgh or San Francisco? Either way, the Astros are looking for their first-ever World Series title."

Greg Amsinger: "You heard it here, folks. The Astros are AL champs again. Luke Peters is your ALCS MVP. And now, they’re four wins away from baseball immortality. We'll be following them every step of the way right here on MLB Network."

�� FINAL SCORE: Astros 1, White Sox 0
�� Series: HOU wins ALCS 4–1
�� MVP: Luke Peters (CG shutout, 93 pitches, 5 hits)
�� Next Stop: The World Series

MLB Network—We Are Baseball.

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1916 alcs

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[CTU Briefing Log — Level 5 Clearance — Compiled by Tony Almeida]

Subject: NLCS Game 5 — Operation Codename “Stay Alive”
Date: October 19, 1916
Location: PNC Park, Pittsburgh, PA
Event Classification: Critical Victory (Prevented Elimination)
Status: San Francisco Giants – Mission Success

INTEL SUMMARY:

At exactly 1405 hours Eastern Time, the San Francisco Giants initiated a must-win operation against the Pittsburgh Pirates. The mission was clear: survive. With the NLCS series standing at 3–1 in Pittsburgh’s favor, elimination was imminent.

Primary asset deployed: Shamar Beeman, LHP — field code 47BRAVO.
Beeman delivered a full-spectrum shutdown across nine innings. Tactical breakdown shows 124 pitches deployed, 75 for strikes. Eight strikeouts. Six hits allowed. Two runs permitted — both in the final frame. No bullpen backup. No room for failure.

Result: Complete game. Giants 4, Pirates 2.
Series now controlled at 3–2 by Pittsburgh. Hostile takeover delayed.

TONY ALMEIDA (VOICEOVER):

We’ve seen this before. Cornered, low probability of success, enemy emboldened. That's when pressure makes men into weapons.

Shamar Beeman wasn’t just pitching — he was neutralizing. He knew what was on the line. Every pitch was a countermeasure. Every out, a defusal.

Top of the 7th — Giants up 1–0. Beeman’s margin of error: razor thin. Then Luis Dominguez goes deep, solo HR. That was the trigger. Psychological shift. It was no longer about survival — it was about control.

A two-run shot from J. Edwards later in the frame gave the Giants a 3–0 lead. Add a run in the 9th. Beeman’s final inning got tense — two runs allowed, threat level spiking. But he held. Secured the objective. Mission complete.

STRATEGIC NOTES:

Beeman’s Performance Index:
9.0 IP | 6 H | 2 ER | 4 BB | 8 K
Threat containment maintained through 8 innings. Final frame breach mitigated.
Luis Dominguez: Solo HR off Gavarrete in the 7th. Psychological impact on Pirates bullpen noted.
A. Baca: 2 stolen bases, 2 walks. Operated as an infield disruptor.
Defensive Execution: One error (Contreras), but a critical double play (Rudeseal-Baca-Contreras) reset tempo in the 5th.
Opposition Analysis: Pirates’ offense suppressed until late. Too late. Gavarrete takes the loss — 6.2 IP, 3 ER, 1 HR allowed.
RECOMMENDED ACTIONS:

Reassign Beeman for Game 7 only if absolutely necessary. Asset currently compromised due to heavy workload (124 pitches).
Transport series to Oracle Park. Hostile territory advantage revoked.
Initiate Game 6 preparations — target reacquisition scheduled 48 hours from timestamp.
OUTCOME:

Giants win Game 5
Series: PIT leads 3–2
Next Engagement: Game 6, Oracle Park – Saturday
MVP Tag: Shamar Beeman — Status: High-Value Asset (HVA)
[End Log – Almeida, T.]
“We’re not out. Not yet.”

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SAN FRANCISCO – (Data file confirmed: NLCS Game 6, 10/21/1916)

Voice transcription begins… Chloe O’Brien speaking:

I’ve just finished parsing the live telemetry from Oracle Park. Crowd noise levels were consistently elevated—decibel spikes corresponded to critical plays in the 8th. Result: Giants 5, Pirates 1. San Francisco neutralizes Pittsburgh’s series lead. We’re going to Game 7.

Let me walk you through what happened.

Ryan Grater, the left-handed starter, was clinical. Logged 8.2 innings on 121 pitches. Seven hits, three walks, only one earned run. His pitch sequencing was efficient—fastball usage was up early, then he shifted to off-speed to keep the Pirates from locking in. Eight groundouts through five innings confirmed that his command was locked. Grater’s game score? 66. That’s significant.

Score was 1-0 Giants heading into the bottom of the 8th. Then it escalated.

Leo Dominguez—.143 average going into the game, OPS under .500—got a fastball from Corey Witcher middle-in. Exit velocity hit 104 mph. That ball landed in the right-field seats before the crowd could even react. Three-run homer. It was a clean read. 5-0, Giants.

Pirates only put up a single run in the 9th, a small ripple in an otherwise quiet threat environment. They had chances—left nine men on base, failed to convert with RISP (runners in scoring position). C. Villa, their catcher, went 0-for-4 with three stranded. That’s not sustainable at this level.

Defensive systems held for both sides. One error apiece, but neither flipped the balance.

Now let’s talk next steps. Game 7 is less than 24 hours out. Giants have all the momentum now. They’ve won two straight, they've neutralized Pittsburgh’s offensive edges, and their bullpen usage remains efficient—only one reliever today (B. Frank, one batter, two pitches).

I’ve already flagged both teams' tendencies—data’s been packaged and queued for transmission to command.

Tomorrow, this whole series comes down to one game. The winner goes to the World Series. The loser? That’s it.

Chloe out.

[jg2977]

San Francisco Giants: 1st NL Pennant

The Giants Rise. The Moment Finds Them.
By Mike Lupica

There are nights in baseball when the moment finds the team, and the team doesn’t blink. Not once. Not when the ghosts of October are whispering. Not when the pressure can bend even the best. And Sunday in San Francisco, in a ballpark where history always seems like it’s just around the corner, the Giants didn’t blink.

They swung.

They pitched.

They won.

The Giants beat the Pirates, 7–1, in Game 7 of the National League Championship Series, and if you’ve ever wondered what it looks like when a team grabs destiny by the collar and doesn’t let go, this was it.

Nate Moser didn’t just hit. He delivered. He batted .529 in the series, got on base more than half the time, and turned tough at-bats into tougher outs. In Game 7, he had four more hits. And somehow he still didn’t feel like the loudest part of the night. That’s how good the Giants were.

Let’s talk about Vinny Luevanos. He didn’t need a stage. He became the stage. Seven innings, seven hits, one run, and complete command when the entire season was riding on his arm. There was no panic. Just poise.

But this wasn’t just about the stars. This was a total-team masterpiece, one where guys like A. Baca and J. Edwards stepped into the moment like they’d been rehearsing their whole lives. Baca had two extra-base hits. Edwards drove in four. You want a blueprint for winning baseball? It’s that: put the spotlight on one guy, and he’ll shine. Put it on the whole lineup, and they blind you.

The Pirates? They scored in the top of the first, and then it was like someone turned off the lights. Seven hits, zero answers. San Francisco pitching, San Francisco defense, San Francisco confidence—they all just tightened the screws inning by inning. Luevanos to Martin to the handshake line. Game over.

This was a Giants team that had never been to a World Series before. Now they go, and they do it not as a surprise, but as a story. A team that refused to let its season end. A team that showed up when it mattered most.

Now it’s on to Houston. On to the next test. The Astros may have history. The Giants? They just made some.

[jg2977]

1916 nlcs

[jg2977]

1916 World Series