[Nick Soulis]

The last ten series delivered some of the most captivating baseball we’ve yet seen on the Field of Dreams stage—three decisive Game Sevens, generational duels, and iconic names who either elevated their legacies or had them stripped away.

Honus Wagner answered every lingering doubt about his greatness with a series that felt more like a coronation than a contest. Against the 1905 Cardinals, Wagner not only drove in 11 runs for the 1912 Pirates but sent a ball literally sailing out of Robinson Park—an act that blurred the line between myth and reality. The deadball era flexed its muscles elsewhere too, when the 1905 White Sox, led by Ed Walsh and Frank Smith, humiliated the 2021 Padres by proving that power bats mean little when pitching guile rules the day.

Speaking of arms, few shone brighter than Tommy Bridges. With two complete-game shutouts and 18 consecutive scoreless innings, he carried the 1942 Tigers past Tris Speaker and the 1925 Indians in five brisk games. In Kansas City, Zack Greinke embodied modern brilliance, baffling Mike Schmidt and the 1985 Phillies as the Royals stormed to victory in five, a new banner moment in their power-era identity.

Three other clashes demanded the full seven. John McGraw’s 1907 Giants leaned on Dan McGann, whose 4-for-4 masterpiece in Game 7 punctuated a late rally to topple the 2021 Twins. In Philadelphia, the lowly 1919 Athletics nearly authored the upset of the century against the 1996 Angels, but Garrett Anderson and company barely escaped in the deciding game. Meanwhile, Bobby Valentine and his 1988 Rangers stunned Jacobs Field, using Charlie Hough’s veteran arm and relentless pressure to oust the 2000 Indians in seven and etch an unlikely triumph into tournament lore.

Not every champion could withstand the test. The 2003 Florida Marlins, so often remembered for improbable October magic, were not only defeated but swept—rattled and humbled by the 1934 Senators in one of the tournament’s most shocking outcomes. They leave as the first Field of Dreams title club to be swept, their legitimacy now openly questioned. The 1999 Marlins soon followed them out, dismissed by the unheralded 1936 Boston Bees, a “forgotten” team now loudly reclaiming their respect.

And then there was Ted Williams. The Splendid Splinter bore the weight of expectation and delivered, guiding his 1946 Red Sox past a spirited 1963 Houston Colts side in six games. Williams stood tall, determined to lead Boston toward a rewritten history and to redefine his own legacy—not only as one of the greatest to swing a bat, but as a man who finally conquered the ghosts that have long shadowed him.