[jg2977]

Tampa Bay Rays 22, New York Yankees 3
October 10, 1938 — Tropicana Field
Rays lead Division Series, 2–1

🎙️ Bob Costas:
There are postseason victories… and then there are evenings that feel almost operatic in their excess.
What unfolded in Tampa was not merely a win for the Rays — it was an avalanche.
Twenty-two runs. Twenty-one hits. Seven walks. Six home runs. Four triples. Not a single error. The sort of offensive display that makes a box score resemble a misprint.
At the center stood Francisco Hernandez. A home run in the first inning to answer New York’s early tally. Later, a triple lashed into the gap. Three hits, two walks, five runs scored, four driven in. He reached base five times and seemed, at moments, to be playing in a different tempo than the rest of the field.
But he was hardly alone.
Rod Francia delivered the decisive blow in the fourth — a bases-clearing double with the sacks full, stretching the lead to 9–2 and draining whatever suspense remained. Francia finished a home run shy of the cycle and drove in five.
Johnny Nava collected five hits and homered twice. Chris Eckert tripled and doubled. Eric Crismond tripled as well. Even in the eighth inning, with the game long decided, Tampa Bay added seven more runs, as though determined to leave no ambiguity about the balance of power.
And quietly — almost lost amid the thunder — Mike Winnie threw a complete game. Nine innings. Three runs. Just one walk. In a contest defined by chaos on one side, he provided composure on the other.
The Yankees struck first, courtesy of Cory Kassebaum’s first-inning home run. They would not lead again.
By the middle innings, the contest had ceased to resemble competition and instead became a testament to depth — every member of the Tampa Bay lineup contributing, relentless and unsparing.
Now, with a 2–1 series lead in this best-of-five, the Rays stand one victory from the League Championship Series.
October can turn swiftly. But on this afternoon, it tilted entirely toward Tampa Bay.
🎙️ Mike Francesa:
Let me tell you something right now — this was a demolition. A demolition.
You lose 22–3 in a playoff game? That’s not a bad night. That’s a crisis.
The Yankees score in the first — okay, fine. Kassebaum goes deep. You think maybe they settle in. And then Hernandez answers immediately. Boom. Tie game. From there? Forget it.
Four in the second. One in the third. Three in the fourth. They had ten runs by the fifth inning! Ten!
And Hayes couldn’t get anybody out. Morris walks the yard. Mills gives up rockets. Magana comes in and it’s batting practice. Seven runs in the eighth inning — seven! In a playoff game!
You can’t have that.
🎙️ Chris “Mad Dog” Russo (rapid-fire, incredulous):
Mike, it was a track meet! A track meet! Nava’s hitting balls everywhere! Francia’s clearing the bases! Hernandez is on base all day! They’re stealing, they’re tripling, they’re homering — it was chaos!
And the Yankees look stunned! Stunned! You can’t get blown out like that in October! You just can’t!
🎙️ Francesa:
Now the pressure’s on New York. No question about it.
You lose tomorrow? Season’s over.
And after giving up twenty-two? That lingers. That’s not something you just shake off with a cup of coffee.
🎙️ Costas (measured, reflective):
Baseball, perhaps more than any other sport, resists hyperbole.
But occasionally, a single afternoon earns it.
For Tampa Bay, this was not merely a victory. It was a statement — emphatic, overwhelming, and unforgettable.
Game 4 awaits.
For the Rays, opportunity.
For the Yankees, survival.