[jg2977]

NLDS Game 1 — Miami Marlins 17, St. Louis Cardinals 13
October 8, 1938 • Busch Stadium

There are October games that unfold with tension and restraint — taut, economical, almost elegant in their minimalism.
This was not one of them.
On a clear afternoon in St. Louis, before 48,072, the 84–78 Marlins — a club that merely slipped into the postseason — delivered a performance so audacious, so thunderous, that it left the defending National League champions staring at a scoreboard that seemed almost fictional.
Seventeen runs. Nineteen hits. And a 1–0 lead in the Division Series.
For three innings, the afternoon hinted at convention. Miami led 1–0 on a third-inning triple by John Evans and a run-scoring single from Travis Chumney. It felt orderly, measured.
But October has a way of shedding restraint.
Floyd Holte’s two-run homer in the fourth pushed the lead to 3–0. Manny Sigaran followed in the fifth with a two-run shot of his own. By the sixth inning, Miami had built a 10–3 advantage, patiently dismantling a Cardinals pitching staff that had been so reliable in carrying St. Louis to 93 victories.
And then came the sixth inning’s counterpunch.
The Cardinals, as champions often do, reminded everyone why they had worn that distinction. Jose Dominguez homered. Alex Cruz followed with a majestic two-run drive. Six hits. Seven runs. In a span of minutes, the game was tied at ten.
It was not merely a rally. It was a reclamation of pride.
At 10–10, the afternoon felt suspended — poised between shock and restoration.
Then Travis Chumney stepped in during the seventh inning with the bases loaded.
Moments like this define postseason careers. The crowd, still animated from the comeback, understood the stakes. One swing would either preserve equilibrium or shatter it.
Chumney chose the latter.
A grand slam to left field. Four runs. Silence in St. Louis.
It was his eighth run batted in of the afternoon — a Miami postseason record — and the defining image of a game that refused moderation.
The Marlins were not finished. Two more runs followed in the inning, and two again in the eighth. When it finally ended — mercifully for both bullpens — the final score read 17–13.
Thirty runs. Thirty-two hits. Nearly three and a half hours of relentless offense.
And yet, beyond the arithmetic, this game represented something larger.
Miami entered October as an afterthought — 84 wins, a modest run differential, a team more scrappy than star-studded. St. Louis entered as the defending National League champion, disciplined and composed.
But October is less interested in résumé than in resolve.
Chumney’s eight RBIs will be remembered. Holte’s three doubles tied a National League postseason record. The Cardinals’ seven-run sixth will linger as a reminder that no lead — and no comeback — is secure in this month.
The Cardinals manager Carlos Cassola was measured afterward. “Every team loses,” he said. “We’ll bounce back.”
History suggests he may be right.
But for one remarkable afternoon at Busch Stadium, the Marlins were not merely competitive.
They were incandescent.
And in October, that can be enough.