National Baseball League

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2001 Eastern Conference Reliever of the Year

LONG ISLAND — October 2001

You talk about slamming the door, turning out the lights, and sending everybody home — that’s exactly what Jose Jacomino did night after night in 2001. And now, the hard-throwing right-hander has earned the recognition to match. The Long Island Islanders’ flame-throwing closer has been named the Eastern Conference Reliever of the Year — and folks, let me tell you, it was no contest.

Thirty-six saves. Fifty-six appearances. Fifty-eight innings of stingy, bone-dry relief. A sparkling 2.48 ERA. And only a dozen walks to go with 49 punchouts. Those aren’t just good numbers — those are the kind of numbers that send hitters back to the dugout shaking their heads.

"I hope I can pitch like this every year," Jacomino said with a grin, the kind of quiet confidence you expect from a man who turns ninth innings into shutdown ceremonies.

He didn’t just get the job done — he dominated the vote, racking up 16 first-place nods out of 36 possible. That left Columbus’s David Arreguin, who had a stellar year himself, in the rearview mirror with 11 first-place votes, while Antonio Mata of Florida rounded out the top three.

Let’s take a look at how the voting stacked up:

Player Team First Place Votes Total Points
Jose Jacomino Long Island Islanders 16 130
David Arreguin Columbus Blue Jackets 11 70
Antonio Mata Florida Panthers 3 51
Brad Corkum Florida Panthers 4 48
Miguel Rivera Washington Capitals 2 25

Jacomino’s season wasn’t flashy — it was clinical. He didn’t rely on theatrics. He brought the heat, he painted corners, and when the pressure built, he never blinked. Managers game-planned around him. Hitters dreaded him. Teammates trusted him.

And now he’s the best reliever in the East. Officially.

So next time you hear that bullpen door swing open and see Jacomino jogging in, just know — for the opposition, it’s closing time.

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Western Conference Reliever of the Year, Told in the Voice of Tyrion Lannister

Ah, to be young, talented, and burdened with absolutely none of the humility that should come with either. Ladies and lords of the realm, raise your goblets to one Chris Gonzales, a man of 26 winters who has, by sheer will, venomous precision, and a rather unholy fastball, been named the Western Conference Reliever of the Year for 2001.

Now, I’ve always believed that if you must stand alone on a mound of dirt in front of tens of thousands of screaming peasants and stare down armed men with sticks — you’d best be very good at it. Chris Gonzales is very good at it.

The man closed the gates 38 times in 55 relief appearances. That’s 38 would-be uprisings, each snuffed out like a poorly planned rebellion. He hurled 59 strikeouts in 55.1 innings — a rate of dispatch most kings would envy — and allowed just a 2.28 ERA, which for the uninitiated, means he allowed barely enough blood to keep the wolves interested.

He won 4 games, lost 2, and made certain every other closer in the Western realm looked, well, a touch less royal.

The voting? Oh yes. Democracy, that most precarious of illusions, rendered a clear verdict:

Player Team First Place Votes Total Points
Chris Gonzales San Jose Sharks 21 148
Walt van de Kuilen Minnesota Wild 15 122
Chusuke Kosaka Nashville Predators 0 54
Now, van de Kuilen gave chase with the desperation of a man charging up a flight of stairs while wearing full armor — admirable, yet inevitably breathless. As for dear Kosaka, who received no first-place votes… well, perhaps he ought to consider investing in dragons next season.

But back to our victor. Chris Gonzales, you are the Hand of the Ninth Inning, the Breaker of Rallies, the Lord of the Late Game. The crown is yours. For now.

Just remember, my young friend — winning the realm is easy. Holding it? Far more difficult.

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Memorandum
To: Interested Parties
From: Kim Wexler
Date: October 22, 2001
Subject: Tim Whatley — 2001 Eastern Conference Rookie of the Year

Facts matter. Results matter. And in the case of Tim Whatley, the numbers leave little room for debate. Today, he was named the Eastern Conference Rookie of the Year for the 2001 season — a decision that was not only justified but unanimous.

Let’s go over the record.

Batting average: .498
Games played: 158
Hits: 240
Home runs: 96
RBIs: 212
Runs scored: 199
Every at-bat, every swing, every sprint down the line — Whatley earned this. His performance wasn’t just historic, it was disciplined. Reliable. Consistent. The kind of year that doesn’t need embellishment because the truth speaks for itself.

Let’s look at the vote breakdown:

Player Team First Place Votes Total Points
Tim Whatley Washington Capitals 36 180
Sang-hoon Kim New Jersey Devils 0 65
Roger McCutcheon Florida Panthers 0 61
Rogelio Tinoco Detroit Red Wings 0 14
Ray Chisholm New York Rangers 0 4
Unanimity in an award like this is rare. So is hitting nearly .500 in a full season. This isn’t just a strong case — it’s airtight.

Sang-hoon Kim and Roger McCutcheon both had admirable seasons. That’s not in dispute. But admirable doesn’t win awards. Dominant does. Whatley was dominant.

There will be questions now — can he repeat it? Will pitchers adjust? Will he sustain this pace? Those are fair. But those are for next season. For now, let’s just say what needs to be said:

Tim Whatley earned it. No footnotes. No caveats. He’s the Rookie of the Year.

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Jetson Journal Entry — Orbit Date: 2001, Sector W, Game Grid 36

“Great Galaxy! Montez Wins Rookie of the Year!”
By George Jetson

Wowsers! Stop the spacecar and hold the Elroy fries — we've got ourselves a stellar rookie over in the Western Conference!

That’s right, folks, Melvin Montez of the Dallas Stars is this year’s 2001 Rookie of the Year, and boy oh boy, did he rocket to the top like a hyperspeed Jetpack XL-7!

Let me lay it out for you in pure Astro-approved stats:

Games played: 110
Batting average: .282
Hits: 116
Home runs: 28
RBIs: 74
Runs scored: 89
“Jane! Stop this incredible third baseman!”

He zoomed ahead with 34 first place votes out of a possible 36 — practically a clean sweep across the galaxy. That’s no fluke, that's talent you can see from orbit.

Let’s look at the vote-o-meter:

Player Team First Place Votes Total Points
Melvin Montez Dallas Stars 34 176
Carlos Molina Los Angeles Kings 0 76
Ivan Rocha Kansas City Scouts 2 53
Victor Lopez Seattle Kraken 0 17
Ron Edwards Kansas City Scouts 0 1
Alec Scheele Vancouver Canucks 0 1

I’ve seen a lot of rookies come and go faster than Rosie on floor polish, but Montez? He’s got the stuff to be a star in this solar system for light-years to come.

And remember folks: in space, no one can hear the crack of the bat... unless you’re Melvin Montez — because he makes the galaxy listen.

Now if only I could hit like that in the Spacely Softball League…

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Jon Smith: A Quiet Leader, A Historic Season
By Jean-François Pelletier

Centre Bell, Montreal — Surrounded by club officials and greeted by a round of sustained applause from loyal fans, Jon Smith accepted the Eastern Conference Manager of the Year Award yesterday—well-earned recognition after a remarkable season for the Montreal Canadiens.

Smith arrived under a cloud of skepticism—the legacy left by his predecessor—and faced the daunting task of reigniting the faith of one of the most passionate and demanding fanbases in all of sports. Yet it was he who guided the Canadiens to a stunning 128–34 record, finishing first in the conference.

“The biggest challenge was the fans,” Smith admitted candidly. “I don’t know how many times I was asked whether I thought the team was good enough. It was like people expected us to fail. Winning over the players? That was easier. But slowly, the fans started to believe in us.”
The message is clear: this team was shaped as much in the clubhouse as in the cafés, on Saint-Catherine Street, and in the anxious conversations of living rooms across the city. Smith united a locker room—and reignited a city.

As the offseason begins, Smith has no intention of resting on his laurels:

“We’re reviewing our options. In baseball, you never stand still. You’re either getting better or you’re getting worse, because everyone else is coming for your free agents or trying to trade for your prospects. It’s going to be another challenge.”
But after a season like this, few doubt that the man at the helm of the Canadiens has the intelligence and tenacity to handle whatever comes next.

Note to readers: The Canadiens will hold a press conference Wednesday to outline their offseason plans.

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Th-th-th-th-tha’s right, folks! L-l-l-ladies and gentlemen, lend me your ears—'cause hooo boy, d-d-do we have a d-d-doozy from the diamond!

Th-th-the big cheese of the Chicago Blackhawks, field manager Bob V-V-V-Valdivia, has b-b-been doin’ somethin’ that’s r-r-r-rarer than a steak at a ballpark hot dog stand—he’s winnin’, folks! Y-y-yup, and not just a lil’ winnin’—lotta winnin’!

With a h-h-h-hustle and a growl, V-V-Valdivia brought that ol’ school, no-f-f-f-fluff, no-f-f-f-fun-n-games kinda attitude to the clubhouse. He’s got the work ethic of a, uh, a-a-a—bulldozer in cleats! And lemme tell ya, his b-b-baseball brains ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at either. Achoo!

U-und-d-d-der his lead, the Blackhawks soared to the t-t-top of the W-W-Western Conference with a shiny-shiny 126-36 record. Th-th-that’s not just good, that’s fan-flippin’-tastic!

And g-g-g-guess what? The b-b-b-baseball writers gave him the ol’ nod, too! Voted him the 2001 Western Conference Manager of the Year! Th-th-that’s a mouthful, but hey—he earned every s-s-s-syllable.

One of his players said, “Mr. Valdivia doesn’t take any n-n-nonsense. If y-y-you ain’t doin’ your job, he’ll letcha know—real quick.” B-b-but don’t let the bark fool ya! The fella’s fair. F-F-F-Fairer than a carnival on a cloudless day! No favorites, no f-f-fancy treatment—just good, hard b-b-ball.

A-a-and the boys in the clubhouse? They’d run through a brick wall—or at least a locker—for ‘im.

Th-th-th-that’s all for now, folks! Stay t-t-tuned and stay s-s-sporty!

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Karl Ravech: Welcome back to Baseball Tonight, everybody! Let’s head out west where the mound was owned, dominated, and downright ruled by one man in 2001: Manny Martinez, the ace of the Vancouver Canucks rotation, and now officially your Western Conference Pitcher of the Year.

Eduardo Perez: Ravy, this guy was a machine. I mean, you look at the numbers: 19 wins, just 4 losses, 34 starts, and 247.1 innings pitched. He struck out 242 batters and carried a rock-solid 3.31 ERA through the season. That's not just good—that’s dominant.

Tim Kurkjian (chuckling): And let me add this—he did it all without missing a beat. You knew when Martinez took the hill, you were in for seven, eight, maybe even nine innings of quality pitching. He led the Canucks staff with poise, pace, and power, and the voters? They noticed. Unanimous selection—36 first-place votes!

Karl Ravech: And the competition wasn’t light. Dave Schultz of the Minnesota Wild had a strong campaign, finishing second in voting, and Hyogo Gushiken in Dallas came in third. But nobody came close to Manny’s grip on the award this year.

Eduardo Perez: I’ll tell you what made him special: command. He wasn’t walking guys, he was working fast, and he didn’t let a big moment get to him. That 3.31 ERA? In a hitter-friendly Western Conference? That’s elite.

Tim Kurkjian: And this could be just the beginning. If Martinez builds on this season, we could be talking about him in Cy Young territory in the near future.

Karl Ravech: So there you have it. Manny Martinez—a unanimous call from the voters, and a no-doubter for us here at the desk. The Canucks have their ace, the West has its Pitcher of the Year, and hitters? They’ve got a problem going into 2002.

[Cue highlight reel of Martinez striking out batters, walking off the mound, and high-fiving teammates]

Karl Ravech: We’ve got more award news coming up, but when we come back—did Jon Smith win over Montreal fans and the media? That story next. You're watching Baseball Tonight.

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Holy cow! Would ya look at this, folks—Zuhayr Ndadaye of the Tampa Bay Lightning just pitched himself straight into the history books! I’m telling ya, this kid was lights out in 2001!

I mean, 25 and 3?! That’s no typo, folks—that's a bona fide pitching clinic every time he took the hill. And that ERA? A microscopic 1.87! I haven’t seen numbers like that since... well, it’s been a long time, I’ll tell ya that. Just smooth as silk out there, mowing down batters like he was late for dinner.

And get this—34 starts, 274 innings, and 227 strikeouts? That’s more K’s than a typewriter in a spelling bee! Unanimous vote too! Every single one of the 36 first-place votes—boom—straight to Ndadaye. That’s the ol’ hat trick plus change!

Now don’t get me wrong—Seong Gi-Hun of the Rangers, fine pitcher, finished second. And Alfredo Sanchez and the rest of that Montreal bunch had strong years, sure. But lemme tell ya, nobody touched Zuhayr this season. Not even close!

You gotta tip your cap to the kid. Calm, cool, and collected. He’s the kind of guy who walks out to the mound like he’s takin’ a Sunday stroll, and then—bam!—three pitches later, batter’s headed back to the dugout wonderin’ what just happened.

Zuhayr, if you’re listenin’: don’t change a thing, kid. You keep throwin’ like that and they’ll be puttin’ your name up in Cooperstown one day. Holy cow, what a season!

Okay, back to you in the studio—I gotta go warm up the cannoli.

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Lemme tell you somethin’, Ernie—Kelly Dacey? That boy ain’t playin’ around. He’s 24 years old, and already makin’ everybody in the Eastern Conference look like little kids out there. That MVP award? Well-deserved. That’s not just good, that’s turrrible for the pitchers who had to face him all season.

This dude hit .506—I mean, c’mon, man, that’s just disrespectful! That’s like hittin’ the ball every time you look at it. You see a .506 average, .629 OBP, 110 home runs, 225 RBIs, and you just gotta sit down and ask yourself, "What are we even doin’ out here?"

I mean, it ain’t fair. You give that man a bat, and next thing you know, your outfielders are walkin’ back to the warning track like they forgot their car keys. And don’t even get me started on those 250 runs scored. That’s video game numbers. That’s like when Shaq used to dominate in the paint and you couldn’t stop him even if you tried—and believe me, people tried.

Now yeah, Auston Matthews and Art Vandelay? They had great seasons, I ain’t takin’ nothin’ away from them. But Dacey got 18 first-place votes, and he earned every single one. He’s the kind of guy who makes your pitcher question his life choices.

Look, if this is what Kelly Dacey’s doin’ at 24, y’all better buckle up, because this dude’s gonna be a problem for a long time. Like that gum you step in and can’t get off your shoe—he’s stickin’ around.

Final word? MVP. Period. Now somebody get that man a Gatorade and a statue.

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Hey hey hey, Boo Boo! Looks like that smart fella Connor Bedard just swiped the whole picnic basket o’ awards, huh? MVP of the Western Conference—and he’s only 22 years old? That’s younger than the time I got caught sneakin’ into Ranger Smith’s refrigerator!

This Bedard guy? He didn’t just play baseball—he ate it for breakfast, lunch, and a side of jelly donuts. Hit .569, got on base .674 of the time—why, that's more than I get into Jellystone Park snack stands in a weekend!

I mean, listen to this, Boo Boo: 52 doubles, 19 triples, and 116 home runs. That’s not a stat line, that’s a shopping list of destruction! And 277 RBIs? That’s more runs batted in than I’ve had sandwiches! Not to mention 293 runs scored—he crossed home plate so many times he probably started getting mail there!

And he beat out that big ol’ bear Ivan Barbashev, who got 16 first-place votes, but Bedard squeaked ahead with 20! Close call, like tryin’ to outrun the Ranger in a golf cart, but a win’s a win, Yogi always says!

Even his buddy Ron Hextall came in third, so I guess the Chicago Blackhawks are doin' better than we are at stayin’ outta trouble.

So, what’s the moral of the story, Boo Boo? If you wanna be MVP, hit a hundred home runs, run like the wind, and never, ever forget where the honey is hidden!

Connor Bedard? He’s not just smarter than the average player… he’s better than all of ‘em this year!

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1916 MLB Standings

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1916 League Leaders

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Target Field, Minneapolis. October 3, 1916.
Game 1: American League Wild Card Series
Baltimore 1, Minnesota 0

The mission was clear, and the stakes were high. Baltimore had traveled into enemy territory, their objective simple: silence the Target Field crowd and steal Game One. It required precision. It required nerve. It required a man like Sal Cantu.

And he delivered. With all the poise of a veteran operative, Cantu sliced through Minnesota’s lineup like a stiletto in the dark, scattering nine hits over seven shutout innings. No explosions, no dramatics—just clean, efficient elimination of any threat. Agent A. Jeoffrey closed the dossier with two flawless innings, earning the save and securing a crucial 1-0 advantage in this best-of-three engagement.

The lone run? Delivered not with a flourish, but with cool, calculated execution. In the top of the third, Jimmy Hyland—once fifth in the league in home runs—grounded one to the infield. Not flashy, not loud, but effective. Herrera crossed the plate. Mission accomplished.

Minnesota’s operative, C. Yovanovich, was formidable in his own right—eight innings, one earned run, and five walks surrendered under relentless pressure. But in the game of inches and espionage, even the narrowest of margins can shift the balance of power.

Baltimore left thirteen on base. Minnesota stranded eleven. Pressure mounted, chances emerged, and each side danced a delicate waltz with opportunity and regret. But only one team escaped with the asset: victory.

The final act of this operation will unfold tomorrow, under the same cool October skies. One more win for Baltimore, and the Twins’ season ends not with a bang—but with a whisper.

This message will self-destruct in nine innings.

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AL WILD CARD MADNESS: ASTROS BLAST MARINERS, 3-1 — BY BART SIMPSON

Whoooaaa, dude! The Houston Astros just came rollin’ into Seattle like they owned the place and BAM! They smacked the Mariners around in Game 1 of the American League Wild Card Series like it was dodgeball in the Springfield Elementary gym.

Final score: Astros 3, Mariners 1. Smell ya later, Seattle.

Let’s talk about Luke “Lights-Out” Peters for a sec. This guy was a total machine on the mound—seven innings of pure domination, five hits, one run, seven Ks. That's more heat than Homer gives the grill on BBQ night.

And check it out—Houston got their groove on early. Second inning? Brendan Morine grounds one out and somehow that scores a run. Not flashy, but hey, it got the job done. Kinda like when I turn in a homework assignment on time—rare, but effective.

By the time Seattle figured out what was happening, it was too late. They got one back on a Josh Freeman triple (okay, that was pretty gnarly), but other than that? Zilch. Nada. Goose eggs all over the board. The Astros bullpen came in and just slammed the door shut. No candy, no mercy.

And get this—Seattle had more hits. More hits! But with three errors? C’mon, man. That’s like fumbling the Krusty Burger bag on the walk home. Total buzzkill.

So now Houston's up 1-0 in the best-of-three and looking like they’ve got cheat codes. Game 2’s tomorrow, and if the Mariners don’t clean up their act, they’re gonna be watching the rest of October on their couch. Probably with Comic Book Guy.

Don’t have a cow, Seattle... just play better.

Player of the Game: Luke Peters
Player Most Likely to Get a Detention: Seattle’s defense

Cowabunga, baseball fans. Bart out. ⚾��

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Walk-Off Wonder: Pirates Take Game 1 Thriller from Marlins
By the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Sports Staff

PITTSBURGH — On a crisp October afternoon along the Allegheny, the Pittsburgh Pirates delivered playoff drama befitting their historic ballpark, edging the Miami Marlins 3-2 in 10 innings to seize a 1-0 lead in the National League Wild Card Series.

With 48,079 black-and-gold faithful packed into PNC Park, it was the homegrown Justin Pitre, a former first-round draft pick, who delivered the final blow—an RBI single in the bottom of the 10th that sent the crowd into rapture and the Pirates into the win column.

“I just wanted to stay calm, stay loose, and not try to do too much,” Pitre said, still catching his breath in a postgame scrum. “This is what you dream about—October baseball in Pittsburgh.”

The Pirates leaned on seven strong innings from veteran right-hander Eduardo Gavarrete, who allowed six hits and two earned runs while striking out four. Gavarrete, unflinching in his approach, settled in after giving up a pair of runs in the fourth, including a two-out triple by Miami’s Jose Cruz.

But the Pirates answered back quickly. In the bottom half of the third, center fielder Jon Jantz laced a two-run single to tie the game. From there, the two clubs traded scoreless frames until the decisive 10th.

Jon Farley, Pittsburgh’s unsung bullpen hero, tossed three clean innings of relief to earn the win. His calm presence on the mound set the stage for the walk-off, and manager Craig Blackwood didn’t hesitate to praise him.

“Farley gave us exactly what we needed—steady hands and shutdown innings,” Blackwood said. “That allowed us to be patient and get the bats going again.”

Miami Missteps Costly
Despite a solid outing from Miami starter Pedro Guzman, who struck out five over seven innings, the Marlins struggled defensively—committing two errors in the later innings, including one by center fielder Nick Walker that loomed large in the Pirates' 10th-inning rally.

“It’s playoff baseball,” said Miami skipper Ramón Borrero. “One swing, one play, one bounce can change everything. Today, it just didn’t go our way.”

Game 2 Outlook
The series resumes tomorrow at PNC Park. The Pirates will have a chance to close out the best-of-three set and advance to the National League Division Series. With momentum—and now a taste of magic—on their side, the Bucs are one win away from extending a storybook season.

“We’ve got work to do,” Pitre said. “But yeah—it feels pretty good right now.”

GAME NOTES

Player of the Game: Eduardo Gavarrete
Attendance: 48,079
Weather: Clear, 57°F, wind blowing in from center at 8 mph
Start Time: 2:05 p.m. ET
Time of Game: 2:38
Next game: Thursday, October 5 — PNC Park. First pitch scheduled for 2:05 p.m. ET.

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“Go Crazy, Folks! Go Crazy!”: Murrone Delivers as Cardinals Walk Off Reds in Game 1
By Jack Buck (in spirit)

ST. LOUIS — Well folks, if you didn’t believe it before, believe it now — these Cardinals know how to win when it counts. In the bottom of the ninth, with their backs against the wall, the defending World Series champions delivered a moment that’ll echo through Busch Stadium for years to come. And just like that, Game 1 of the National League Wild Card Series belongs to St. Louis.

The final score: Cardinals 2, Reds 1. And it came in the most dramatic of fashions.

Trailing 1-0 with just three outs to go, the Cards rallied behind the steely resolve of a team that’s been here before. Young Carlos Murrone came to the plate with one out, two on, and all of Busch holding its breath. A fastball came in — belt high — and Murrone sent it scorching into right field.

One run scores. Two runs score. The Cardinals win. The crowd erupts.

“Oh baby! What a finish!” I’d have said it myself, folks, but the crowd beat me to it.

A Pitcher’s Duel in the Heartland
Before the fireworks, we had ourselves a tightrope classic. Steven Janczak, the Cardinals’ big right-hander, was absolutely terrific — seven strong innings, six hits, one earned run. He looked calm, composed, like a man who's been toeing that rubber since he was born.

The Reds drew first blood in the eighth thanks to a pair of doubles — Frankie Martinez and Anthony Liotta combined for the go-ahead run. That could’ve been the game... but this St. Louis team? They’re never out of it.

On the other side, credit where it’s due: Cincinnati’s starter, José Landaverde, gave the Redlegs every chance. Seven shutout innings, just four hits, no room for error. But baseball’s a funny game. It doesn’t always reward the starters.

Enter: The Moment
The bottom of the ninth. Busch buzzing. The Reds turned to Tony Plascencia out of the bullpen. A couple of hits, a little pressure... and then Murrone delivered. Two runs in. Ballgame over. Series lead secured.

“They wrote us off,” Murrone said after the game, sweat still glistening under the clubhouse lights. “But we weren’t done yet.”

Oh, what a sound it made. The crack of the bat. The roar of the crowd. The heartbeat of October.

On Deck
Tomorrow, the series resumes here in St. Louis. The Cardinals have a chance to close it out and punch their ticket to the Division Series. With the momentum they just earned — and the memories of 1915 still fresh — you can bet they’ll be ready.

From high above the field at Busch, this is Jack Buck — if only in spirit — saying: I don’t believe what I just saw.

But boy, oh boy... I’m glad I did.

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Tim McCarver Style Column: Twins Fold Early Again—And This Time, It Feels Different

MINNEAPOLIS — You can talk about the long grind of the regular season all you want, but let me tell you something, folks—October baseball exposes everything. And this year, what it exposed in Minnesota was a former champion with a cracked foundation and no October magic left in the well.

The Baltimore Orioles walked into Target Field and left with a two-game Wild Card sweep, clinching it with a 7-4 win that wasn’t as close as the score suggests. The Twins? They’re going home early for the second straight year. And when that happens to a team that’s won back-to-back World Series, it tells you something: they’ve lost their edge.

Let me be clear: you don’t win two championships by accident. You’ve got to have horses in your rotation, you've got to get the big hits, and you’ve got to play clean, focused baseball. But right now, the Twins look more like a team living off yesterday’s headlines than one fighting for tomorrow’s trophy.

You want to know what kind of postseason it was for Minnesota? Look no further than the first inning today: Five runs from the Orioles before most of the crowd had finished their hot dogs. Starter Jordan Andrade couldn’t get out of the first inning. Just like that, the hill became a mountain—and this time, there was no climb back.

And look—credit to Kevin Johnson, the Orioles’ starter. He kept the Twins off-balance all day. Seven innings, no walks, seven strikeouts. A pitcher like that, when he gets ahead in the count and controls the tempo? You’re not going to do much damage, especially when you're chasing five before your first at-bat.

But here's what really stands out to me: four errors from the Twins. Four. You can't win postseason games with that kind of sloppiness. You just can't. In fact, you don’t even deserve to win when you play like that. Championship teams take care of the baseball. This team didn’t.

And let’s talk about Baltimore for a second, because they deserve it. Catcher Omar Herrera—three hits, two RBIs. That’s the kind of clutch performance that wins short series. And Sal Cantu? The MVP of the series after seven shutout innings in Game 1. He didn’t pitch today, but his presence loomed large.

You could feel it—the Orioles had the energy, the intent, the focus. They played like a team trying to make a statement. The Twins? They played like they expected to wake up in the Division Series just because their rings said they should.

Folks, when a team wins two World Series in a row, you expect them to at least get past the first round the next year. But now Minnesota’s gotten swept in back-to-back Octobers, and the whispers are going to get louder.

Has the window closed? Have they gotten too comfortable? You’ve got to ask the hard questions.

Because one thing I know after all these years around the game: you don’t stay on top just by being good—you stay there by staying hungry.

And right now, the Twins look full. Maybe too full.

— Tim McCarver (in spirit)

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BAL vs. MIN

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Mike Francesa-style Reaction: Astros Do What They Do — Mariners? Please. Not Ready.

Alright, listen. You watched it. I watched it. Houston wins 2-1. Game Two. Seattle’s done. Again. And I’ll tell ya, you can talk to me all you want about young talent, about the Mariners being “on the rise,” but you can’t sit there and blow a one-run game at home and tell me you’re ready for the next step. You're not.

Let’s start with the Astros. They know how to win. That’s what this was. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud. But it was clinical. They show up, they execute, and they go home with a sweep. That’s a franchise that’s been built for October. Say what you want about ‘em—they know how to finish.

Now, I give credit to Justin Hester—seven solid innings, gave up a run, scattered hits, never lost command. That’s what a Game Two road start should look like. He gets out of a couple jams, keeps his pitch count in control, and hands it off to the bullpen. And let me say this: Foulk comes in? Ice cold. Two innings? Not a problem. That’s what the Astros do. That’s why they’re moving on.

Now let’s go to the Mariners for a second—because listen, I know Seattle fans don’t want to hear this—but you had your shot. You had your guy, José Morales, on the mound. He gave you eight innings, gives up one earned run, no walks, keeps you in the game the whole way. And what do you do? You score one run at home. One.

You can’t waste that outing. You just can’t. Morales deserved better.

Let me say something else that’s gonna upset some folks out there—eight hits, one run? That’s not unlucky. That’s bad situational hitting. That’s chasing pitches, that’s grounding into double plays, that’s bad baseball when it matters most.

And look at this: Houston had zero walks, they still win the game. Seattle had chances! They left eight guys on base. That’s your season right there. I don’t care how many hits you get—if you can’t cash them in, you go home.

Let’s also talk about this: Seattle makes an error. Houston does not. That’s the difference. That’s postseason baseball. You play clean, you move on. You kick the ball around, you pack your bags.

So now Houston moves on to face the Yankees. That’s a big-boy matchup, folks. And I’ll tell ya right now: don’t sleep on Houston. I know it’s the Yankees, they’ve been sitting around waiting, but the Astros are coming in hot. They just won two on the road. They know how to pitch. They’re not scared.

Seattle? Back to the drawing board. Nice year, fun team, great crowd—but that’s not enough. October’s not about fun. It’s about winning. And they didn’t.

Back after this.

[jg2977]

HOU vs. SEA