[jg2977]

COLIN COWHERD:
Alright, let me start here—this game was baseball chaos, and chaos usually favors the team that has nothing to lose. That was Anaheim today. Cleveland came in up 2–0, thinking closeout, thinking control, thinking business trip. And instead they got dragged into a backyard brawl. Fifteen to fourteen? That’s not playoff baseball—that’s street fighting.
Here’s the takeaway I care about: Cleveland scored fourteen runs and lost. That tells me two things. One, their offense is real—Alay was a monster, twenty hits, relentless pressure. But two—and this is the bigger one—their pitching staff is fragile under stress. You can’t give up fifteen runs with a chance to put a series away. You just can’t.
HARRY DOYLE:
sighs
Well, Colin… this one hurts. I gotta be honest with ya. When you score fourteen runs in a playoff game, you’re supposed to be gettin’ on the plane, orderin’ room service, maybe thinkin’ about who you’re playin’ next. Instead? I’m sittin’ here wonderin’ how in the world we’re still playin’ tomorrow.
They had ‘em. They HAD ‘em. Every time Anaheim popped up, Cleveland answered right back. Alay hits two homers, Amero goes deep, Holloway starts the game with a bang—and it just… didn’t matter.
COWHERD:
Harry, this is where I’m gonna push back a little. This wasn’t bad luck. This was bad sequencing. Correa couldn’t survive the first three innings, Howell gives up the decisive homer, and suddenly Anaheim believes. Playoff series turn on belief. Billy Horn—95 steals during the season—doesn’t beat you with speed tonight. He beats you with a two-run bomb in the eighth. That’s emotional damage.
DOYLE:
And that’s the part that’ll keep me up tonight. Billy Horn’s a blur on the bases—you expect him to swipe second, maybe score on a single. You don’t expect him to turn on one and send it over the fence. When that ball left the park… I just kinda sank in my chair.
You could feel the stadium flip. Indians fans got quiet. Angels fans got loud. And suddenly it didn’t matter that Cleveland had twenty hits. None of it mattered anymore.
COWHERD:
Exactly. Momentum doesn’t care about spreadsheets. Anaheim didn’t pitch well, didn’t defend perfectly—but they kept swinging. Marku was phenomenal—four RBIs, big homer, Player of the Game. That’s what desperation looks like. Teams facing elimination play freer. Teams trying to close tighten up.
DOYLE:
I just wish—just once—we’d step on somebody’s throat. That’s all I’m askin’. You’re up 2–0 in the series. You’re up late in the game. You’re scoring runs like it’s batting practice. And still, here we are.
Now it’s a series again. And Anaheim’s gonna wake up tomorrow thinkin’, “Why not us?”
COWHERD:
And that’s the danger, Harry. Cleveland is still the better team. They still control the series. But psychologically? This game planted a seed. Anaheim now believes Cleveland can be cracked. And once a playoff opponent believes that—you’re in for a dogfight.
DOYLE (quietly):
Yeah… tomorrow just got a lot bigger than it needed to be.