National Baseball League

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Arizona Diamondbacks are moving on. That’s right, a sweep of the Miami Marlins in the Wild Card, 9-7 today, and they advance to the Division Series. And it really came down to one guy: Brian Rekstad. This guy hits .750 in the series, drives in seven runs, scores three, adds a home run, and just puts the team on his back. If you’re talking about playoff impact, this is exactly what you want from your DH.
Now, this was not some blowout. Miami put up seven runs, they had their chances, led early in parts, but Arizona’s timely hitting and that clutch approach made the difference. Rekstad’s big two-out RBI homer in the seventh inning off L. Arriaga? That’s the swing that flips the game. Arizona answered every time Miami threatened—when the Marlins scored two in the sixth, Arizona responded with seven in the bottom of the seventh. That’s playoff baseball: push back every time.
On the mound, C. Worthen held his own with seven innings, five earned, two homers allowed—but he survived, kept the team in it, and allowed his lineup to do the work.
Bottom line: the Diamondbacks are clicking, they’re peaking at the right time, and now they move on to face the Milwaukee Brewers in the Division Series. Miami? They leave the field with their heads down, knowing they didn’t have enough to match the timing and poise of Arizona.
Player of the game? No question—Brian Rekstad. That’s the guy who makes this series sweep feel like a statement. Arizona is rolling, and if Rekstad keeps swinging like this, Milwaukee better be ready.

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Ohhh man… this is why sports are cruel, and this is why we can’t look away.
Just like that—the world champion Houston Astros are out. Done. Season over. And it didn’t happen quietly. It happened in a 19–18 carnival ride, at home, in front of nearly 50,000 people, with the wind blowing out and everything on the line.
Here’s the Cowherd takeaway:
Dynasties don’t end with a whisper. They end with chaos.
Houston didn’t lose because they were soft. They didn’t lose because they lacked stars. Look at the box score—Berthiaume, Curtis, Callender all mashed. They scored 18 runs! In any normal universe, that’s a win by six. But the margins in October are razor-thin, and Toronto finally flipped the script.
This was revenge baseball. Toronto didn’t forget last year’s ALCS heartbreak. They bottled it. They carried it. And they unleashed it when it mattered.
And here’s the guy—Devin Thorn. This wasn’t just a hot series, this was a statement. .500 average, 11 RBIs, three bombs, and the calm confidence of a star who knew this moment belonged to him. That’s not luck. That’s growth. That’s a franchise player announcing himself on the biggest stage.
Now let’s talk Houston, because this is important.
Houston became what champions always become after a title run: a little vulnerable, a little hunted, a little human. Pitching depth cracked. Bullpen arms were asked to be perfect. They weren’t. You blow a game where you score 18? That’s not effort—that’s structure failing under pressure.
This game wasn’t about who wanted it more. It was about who could survive the madness.
Toronto did.
Houston didn’t.
And now the Astros walk into the offseason with the hardest question in sports:
Are we still the standard… or were we just the last champion?
Toronto moves on to Cleveland, lighter, looser, dangerous. Houston heads home knowing October doesn’t care about banners—it only cares about the last out.
That’s baseball.
That’s revenge.
And that’s why October never apologizes. 🔥⚾

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Mike: Alright, Francesa and Russo here, and where do you even start with this one? Thirteen to twelve, ten innings, wild card finale, errors everywhere, homers flying out like it’s batting practice—
Mad Dog: —MIKE, it was a zoo! A ZOO! You couldn’t keep score with a pencil, you needed a typewriter! Twelve runs, thirteen runs, back and forth, nobody could get anybody out!
Mike: This game had absolutely everything. And in the end, it’s the St. Louis Cardinals who survive it, win it 13–12, take the series, and now they get Atlanta. Same Braves everybody’s chasing every year.
Mad Dog: And lemme tell ya somethin’, the guy of the series is Jose Dominguez, no question. Big hit after big hit, two homers in this game, including the dagger in the tenth inning. Four homers in the series! That’s star stuff, Mike!
Mike: He carried them when it mattered. And St. Louis—you know, they didn’t play a clean game. Errors, shaky pitching, bullpen wobbling—
Mad Dog: —Nobody played clean, Mike! Washington kicked it around too! FOUR errors! Four! In a playoff game! You can’t do that! You cannot do that!
Mike: Exactly. And that’s the story for the Nationals. They scored twelve runs at home and still couldn’t close it. Celauro had five hits, five! They had traffic all day long, nineteen hits—
Mad Dog: —And they still lose! Because every time they grabbed momentum, boom! Home run. Dominguez, Gonzago, McLaren, Martinez—everybody’s hittin’ the seats!
Mike: Fifth inning alone, seven runs for St. Louis. That’s supposed to be the knockout.
Mad Dog: And Washington comes right back! That’s what made it crazy! They wouldn’t go away! Nationals Park was loud, fans thinkin’ they’re goin’ to the Division Series—
Mike: —And then the tenth inning happens. Dominguez again. Two outs. Boom. Season-changer.
Mad Dog: That’s the difference, Mike. One team had a guy who wanted the moment. Washington had chances—bases loaded, runners everywhere—and they just couldn’t get the big pitch or the big out.
Mike: So now St. Louis moves on, battered but breathing, and Washington goes home sick to their stomachs thinking, How did we lose a game where we scored twelve?
Mad Dog: Brutal loss. Absolutely brutal. That’s a winter-long loss right there.
Mike: And that’s October baseball. Survive and advance—or pack it up. St. Louis survives. Washington doesn’t.

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1932 Division Series

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AL Top Seeds

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Joe Buck: Welcome inside Tropicana Field, where the Tampa Bay Rays made a loud postseason statement in Game 1 of the Division Series. Thirteen runs, nineteen hits, and a convincing 13–6 win over the Boston Red Sox to take a one-game lead.
John Smoltz: Joe, this was about pressure from the very start. Tampa Bay never let Boston get comfortable, and when you do that in October, especially against a veteran team, you force mistakes—and that’s exactly what happened.
Joe Buck: The Rays answered almost every Boston run, and then some. Chris Smith was right in the middle of it all—four hits, two runs scored, two driven in. Just constant traffic at the top and middle of the lineup.
John Smoltz: That’s the kind of performance that stresses pitchers. Smith didn’t try to do too much—line drives, solid contact, using the whole field. And when one guy does that, the lineup feeds off it.
Joe Buck: The moment that really tilted the game came in the bottom of the seventh. Two on, two out, Rays clinging to a 5–4 lead—
John Smoltz: —and this is where execution matters most.
Joe Buck: Eric Crismond delivers a two-run single, pushing the lead to 7–4, and from there the Rays never looked back.
John Smoltz: That’s a killer at-bat. You’re a pitcher, you think you’re one pitch away from escaping the inning—and instead the game opens up. Boston’s bullpen never recovered after that.
Joe Buck: Tampa Bay then blew it wide open in the eighth with a six-run inning—triples, doubles, stolen bases, relentless offense. They finished with extra-base hits all over the field.
John Smoltz: And let’s give credit to the starter, Luca Capriotti. Seven innings, nine hits, four runs—he gave them exactly what they needed. He didn’t dominate, but he controlled the game and kept his team in position to win.
Joe Buck: Boston showed flashes offensively, but defensively and on the mound, they just couldn’t stop the momentum once Tampa Bay seized it.
John Smoltz: That’s playoff baseball. You can’t trade punches forever. Eventually someone lands the knockout—and tonight, it was the Rays.
Joe Buck: Final score again from St. Petersburg: Tampa Bay 13, Boston 6. The Rays lead the series one game to none, and suddenly, the top seed is looking every bit the part. Game 2 comes your way tomorrow.

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“Just a bit outside… and the Indians are in trouble!”
Hi everybody, Harry Doyle here at Jacobs Field, where the Toronto Blue Jays marched into Cleveland and smacked the Indians around to the tune of an 11–6 win in Game 1 of the Division Series!
Now folks, this one didn’t start with fireworks—but ohhh did it finish with them.
Toronto broke the ice in the third inning, and boy, did they do it with style. Mauro Polidori steps in, two men aboard… swings—and YOU CAN KISS THAT ONE GOODBYE! A three-run blast, and suddenly the Blue Jays are up 3–0 and the crowd here sounds like somebody just unplugged the jukebox.
Cleveland tried to hang around. They scratched, they clawed, they even made it interesting a couple times—but every time they peeked their heads up, Toronto knocked ’em right back down.
And how about Cory LeMond? The kid was everywhere! Three hits, a home run, two runs scored—he looked like he brought his lunch, dinner, and dessert to the plate. Player of the Game, and nobody’s arguing that.
Toronto kept pouring it on late—six runs over the eighth inning stretch—and by then, well… you could feel it. Indians fans were already checking the exits, checking the clock, checking their pulse.
On the mound, C. Strand wasn’t flashy, but he got the job done—six solid innings—and A. Clasby came in to slam the door like it owed him money.
Final score here in Cleveland: Toronto 11, Cleveland 6.
The Blue Jays take Game 1 on the road, and suddenly the always-dangerous Indians are the ones playing catch-up.
This is Harry Doyle saying: If this series keeps going like this, Cleveland may need more than a rally… they might need a miracle! ⚾��️

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NL Top Seeds

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Here’s the headline:
The Atlanta Braves didn’t just beat the Cardinals. They sent a message.
Because every October, you find out who you really are. Not who you think you are. Not who your regular-season résumé says you are. Who you are when the lights come on, the crowd’s loud, and somebody punches first.
And last night? Atlanta threw the first punch…
Then kept throwing.
This game was basically over in the first two innings. That’s not hyperbole—that’s reality.
Braves go up 3–0 in the first, 7–0 by the end of the second, and at that point this stops being a playoff game and starts being a lesson.
And let’s talk about the guy who defines the whole night: Alex Sandoval.
Nine innings. Four hits. Zero walks.
That’s not pitching scared. That’s pitching angry.
This is what veteran contenders do: when their offense explodes early, their ace doesn’t relax—he steps on your throat. Sandoval wasn’t flashy, he wasn’t cute, he was efficient, direct, and relentless. That’s October pitching. That’s “get on the bus, we’re done here” pitching.
Meanwhile, St. Louis?
This is what worries me.
Four hits. No walks. Two solo homers when the game’s already decided.
That’s not pressure offense—that’s stat padding. When the Braves needed answers, St. Louis had none. They were passive. They waited. October doesn’t wait.
And Atlanta’s lineup? Oh boy.
Fernandez goes deep twice before you can even finish your coffee. Quizhpe delivers with two outs. Roman, McKnight—pick your poison. This was a complete lineup performance, the kind that forces opposing managers to start thinking ahead… way ahead.
Because here’s the truth:
Atlanta looks like a team that’s been here before.
St. Louis looks like a team hoping it figures things out during the series.
Game 1 doesn’t end a series—but it sets the tone.
And the tone here is clear:
Atlanta is confident.
Atlanta is balanced.
Atlanta is comfortable playing from ahead.
And St. Louis?
They’ve got about 24 hours to decide who they’re going to be.
Because if this turns into a bullpen scramble or another early hole…
This series could be short.
That’s not a take.
That’s just watching the tape.

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COWHERD:
Alright, let me start here. This was not a baseball game—this was a roller coaster with no seat belt. Thirteen to eleven, Arizona over Milwaukee, Game 1, and if you’re the Brewers you’re sitting there saying, “How did we score eleven runs and still lose?”
Because here’s the reality: when you give up 17 hits at home in October, you’re not defending your turf—you’re renting it out.
MAD DOG:
COLIN! COLIN! You can’t lose a game like this in October! You’re the two-seed, you got the crowd, forty-eight thousand people in the rain, and you give up THIRTEEN runs?! Thirteen! That’s spring training nonsense!
COWHERD:
Let’s talk about the adult in the room—Shamar Dennis. Four-for-five. Homer. Double. Four runs scored. Three driven in. That’s not a hot night—that’s a statement performance. That’s a guy saying, “I’m the best player on the field, deal with it.”
And October always exposes something. For Milwaukee? It exposed pitching depth.
MAD DOG:
Dennis was UNSTOPPABLE. You couldn’t get him out with a subpoena! And I don’t wanna hear about the weather—everybody’s playing in the same rain! You give up an eighth-inning three-run homer in a playoff game?! Forget it!
COWHERD:
And how about Chris Grissett—because this guy just keeps showing up in October like a bad memory. Three hits. Homer. Double. Big RBI single in the sixth when the game’s teetering. Arizona doesn’t panic. That’s championship muscle memory.
Remember—this is the same franchise that ripped Cleveland’s heart out two years ago. They’ve been here.
MAD DOG:
That’s EXACTLY right! They don’t blink! Milwaukee ties it, crowd’s going crazy, and Arizona just goes, “Okay. Our turn.” Boom, boom, boom. Six runs in the middle innings like it’s batting practice!
COWHERD:
Now let’s be honest about Milwaukee. Their offense showed guts—eleven runs, huge swings, Gonzalez grand slam, Rodrigues everywhere—but baseball’s cruel. If your pitching can’t get a stop, your offense becomes irrelevant.
And then the cherry on top—Jake Watende refusing questions afterward? That’s not confidence. That’s frustration.
MAD DOG:
Oh stop it! “I’ll talk when we win the World Series”—come on! You just gave up THIRTEEN runs! You don’t get to big-time the media after that! That’s deflection, Colin, pure deflection!
COWHERD:
Here’s the takeaway. Arizona didn’t play clean—ERA’s ugly, bullpen shaky—but they landed punches when it mattered. Milwaukee had chances. Lots of them. They just couldn’t finish.
Game 1 doesn’t end a series—but games like this?
They linger.
MAD DOG:
Milwaukee better win tomorrow. Better WIN. Because if you lose a game where you score eleven at home, that’s the kind of loss that crawls into your head at 2 a.m. and doesn’t leave!
COWHERD (closing):
Arizona 1. Milwaukee 0.
And suddenly, the pressure has flipped.
That’s October baseball.
Messy. Loud. Unforgiving.

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COWHERD:
Let’s start here. This is what happens when a franchise waits fourteen years to get back to the party and then shows up like it owns the place. Tampa Bay isn’t just winning this series—they’re imposing themselves. Eight-six over Boston, two-nothing series lead, and the Rays are now one win away from the ALCS.
And here’s the thing: Boston didn’t play terribly. They just did what Boston’s been doing all year—they cracked when the game demanded precision.
FRANCESA:
That’s exactly right, Colin. They had opportunities. They were in the game. But you can’t make three errors in a playoff game, you just can’t. And you can’t expect to survive October when you’re sloppy defensively and asking your bullpen to bail you out every night.
COWHERD:
Let’s talk about the star of the afternoon—Chris Smith. Three for four. Homer. Three runs scored. Two driven in. Speed. Power. Confidence. That’s not just a good game—that’s a postseason résumé builder.
When Tampa needed an answer, Smith had one. When Boston punched back, Smith said, “Nice try.”
FRANCESA:
He was the best player on the field. Period. Boston couldn’t get him out, couldn’t keep him off the bases, and when he got on, he changed the game. That stolen base matters. Those extra ninety feet matter. That’s playoff baseball.
COWHERD:
But the moment—the moment—comes in the eighth inning. Tie game. Season tilting. And Eric Crismond steps in, full count, sinker, and ropes a triple that flips the whole thing upside down.
That’s the difference between organizations. Tampa Bay gets timely execution. Boston gets nervous contact.
FRANCESA:
That’s a pitch you can’t throw there. You absolutely cannot. Simmons comes in, and the first real mistake ends up in the gap. That’s October pressure. The Rays handled it. Boston didn’t.
COWHERD:
And let’s not overlook this—Tampa Bay hasn’t trailed emotionally in this series for more than a few minutes. Even when Boston rallied in the eighth, Tampa answered immediately. That tells you something.
Meanwhile, Boston’s heading back to Fenway knowing this: they have to win three straight against a team that doesn’t beat itself.
FRANCESA:
That’s the problem. Tampa Bay doesn’t give games away. They catch the ball. They run the bases well. They get just enough pitching. Boston’s now in a spot where one bad inning ends their season.
COWHERD (closing):
So here we are. The top seed playing like it.
The underdog Red Sox looking exactly like a team running out of answers.
Rays up 2–0.
Fenway next.
And suddenly, Boston’s margin for error is zero.
That’s October.

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COWHERD:
Alright, let me start big-picture. This is why I love October baseball. Because talent matters—but nerve matters more. Toronto wins 12–10, goes up 2–0 in the series, and once again proves something I’ve been saying all year: this Blue Jays team doesn’t flinch. Ever.
They don’t panic. They don’t shorten the game emotionally. They just keep swinging until somebody breaks—and tonight, Cleveland did.
COSTAS:
And the manner in which it unfolded had the feel of a classic postseason struggle—momentum constantly shifting, leads evaporating, heroes emerging late. It was loud, it was messy, and it was relentless. Four errors by Cleveland, eighteen hits by Toronto, and in the end, the Blue Jays simply outlasted them.
COWHERD:
Let’s talk about German Diaz, because that’s your headline. Three hits, a homer, three driven in. And not cheap production—impact production. When Toronto needed damage, he delivered it.
But this wasn’t a one-man show. This was a lineup that just kept coming. Starrett. Horn. Thorn. Polidori. And then—then—the dagger.
COSTAS:
Jose Villavicencio’s double in the ninth inning will live in Blue Jays postseason lore if this run continues. A poised swing, a ball driven into the gap, and suddenly a game Cleveland thought it might steal slipped away. It was his second double of the afternoon, and it came at the most critical moment.
COWHERD:
Here’s the thing that jumps out to me: Cleveland had chances. Big ones. They scored ten runs. They hit for power. But they couldn’t protect anything—not the lead, not the field, not the moment.
You cannot give a disciplined offense extra outs in October. Toronto said, “Thank you very much,” and cashed every check.
COSTAS:
Indeed, the errors loom large. Four of them, each compounding the pressure on a pitching staff already stretched thin. In contrast, Toronto played clean baseball—no errors, efficient baserunning, timely execution. Over three-plus hours, those margins decided the game.
COWHERD:
And let’s not gloss over the psychology here. Cleveland ties it and then takes the lead in the eighth. The crowd’s buzzing. Momentum’s theirs. Most teams tighten up.
Toronto? They go right back on the attack in the ninth like nothing happened.
That’s not luck. That’s identity.
COSTAS:
It speaks to preparation and belief. Manager Miguel Ortiz put it simply afterward—this team plays nine innings hard. And tonight, nine innings were required. Toronto scored in six different frames, a testament to sustained pressure rather than one fleeting surge.
COWHERD (closing):
So now the series shifts north. Rogers Centre. Toronto up 2–0. Cleveland staring at the cliff.
And here’s the truth: this series isn’t about talent anymore. It’s about composure. One team has it in abundance. The other is running out of time to find it.
Toronto didn’t just win Game 2.
They took control of the story.

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COLIN COWHERD VOICE (zoomed out, arms crossed):
“Let me tell you something about Atlanta. This is why they keep getting the bye. This is why every year we roll our eyes and say, ‘Yep, Braves again.’ Because when chaos hits—when the game turns into a street fight—Atlanta doesn’t panic. St. Louis threw haymakers. They scored THIRTEEN runs. Most teams lose that game by five. Atlanta? Atlanta shrugs, lights a cigar, and says: ‘Cute. Our turn.’”
PHIL RIZZUTO VOICE (mid-inning, barely keeping up):
“Holy cow! I don’t know where to look! I’m tellin’ ya, Scooter, this scoreboard operator’s gonna need a nap! Five runs here, four runs there—everybody’s hittin’! You sit down for a hot dog and—BAM!—another home run!”
Cowherd:
“And let’s talk about Alex Fernandez. Because this is where stars separate themselves. Good players hit solo homers when they’re up four. Great players hit three home runs, including a three-run bomb in the seventh when they’re DOWN. That’s not a stat. That’s a personality. That’s a guy who wants the moment, who asks for the moment, who owns the moment.”
Rizzuto (losing it):
“Three home runs! Three! I mean—ya can’t make this stuff up! I’m lookin’ at my scorecard, I’m runnin’ outta room! Fernandez hits one, he hits another, and then—holy cow!—he hits ANOTHER one! The Cardinals are sayin’, ‘What do we gotta do, lock the gates?’”
Cowherd:
“Now St. Louis fans are gonna say, ‘Hey, we scored 13 runs.’ And you did. And it didn’t matter. That’s the scary part. You hit Jankowski bombs, Holdcraft delivers, Gonzago chips in—and you still lose. Because Atlanta doesn’t just beat you. They outlast you. They absorb your best punch and come back harder.”
Rizzuto:
“Sixteen runs! Nineteen hits! I’m tellin’ ya, this thing went back and forth like a seesaw! Errors, triples, homers—everything! I haven’t seen a box score this full since my grocery list!”
Cowherd (series context):
“And now it’s 2-0 Braves. Same movie, same ending. St. Louis goes home, backs against the wall, and Atlanta’s sitting there calm as ever saying, ‘We’ve been here before.’ This is what top seeds do. They don’t need perfect baseball. They just need better baseball when it counts.”
Rizzuto (signing off, amazed):
“If you paid for this one, you got your money’s worth—and then some! Holy cow, what a ballgame! And folks, don’t go anywhere… because if this series keeps goin’ like this, I’m gonna need a bigger scorecard!”
Final takeaway:
A wild, messy, unforgettable playoff classic—
and another reminder that Atlanta doesn’t just survive October… they own it. 🔥⚾