National Baseball League

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Standings recap and playoff preview

Colin Cowherd:
Alright, let’s talk about it—because this is one of those seasons where the standings don’t just tell a story… they scream one.
First of all, we need to start with the most ridiculous thing in sports right now—the New York Yankees.
152–10.
Let me say that again—152 and 10.
That’s not a great team. That’s not even an all-time team. That’s a glitch in the system. That’s like playing a video game on rookie mode. At this point, the only question isn’t “are they the best team?”—it’s “are they bored?”
And here’s the scary part—they get a BYE. They’re rested. They’re waiting. They’re watching everybody else fight in the mud.
Now flip over to the Cleveland Indians—134 wins.
In any normal universe, we’re spending all day talking about Cleveland. Instead? They’re the second most dominant team in their own league.
That’s how absurd this year is.
And then in the National League, I LOVE this story—
the Chicago Cubs.
119 wins. First playoff appearance in 14 years.
That’s what sports is about. That’s a sleeping giant waking up. That’s a fanbase that’s been sitting there forever finally saying, “Yeah… this might be our year.”
Now let’s talk matchups—because this is where it gets fun.
AL Wild Card: Red Sox vs Rays
You’ve got the Boston Red Sox and the Tampa Bay Rays.
Boston’s hovering around .500, Tampa’s clearly better on paper—but this is classic baseball. Boston’s loose. No expectations. Tampa? All the pressure.
I’ll take Tampa—but I’m telling you, this smells like a “why is this series going three games?” situation.
AL Wild Card: Mariners vs Angels
The Seattle Mariners vs the Anaheim Angels.
This is a coin flip. Three teams in that division basically tied, and Anaheim sneaks out with it.
This is the series nobody can predict—which usually means it’s the most entertaining one.
NL side—this is chaos.
Diamondbacks vs Giants
The Arizona Diamondbacks and the San Francisco Giants—both 90 wins.
That’s a heavyweight fight in the first round.
San Francisco’s been there before. Arizona’s hungry. This is the series where you go, “Why are these teams playing this early?”
Brewers vs Padres
The Milwaukee Brewers vs the San Diego Padres.
San Diego—again—great regular season. 99 wins.
But here’s the problem… we’ve seen this movie. Three World Series appearances. Three losses.
At some point, it’s not bad luck. It’s identity.
I like San Diego to win the series—but until they prove otherwise, I don’t trust them in October.
And don’t forget the BYE teams:
Miami Marlins – quietly dangerous, 100 wins
Chicago Cubs – the NL powerhouse
New York Yankees – historic juggernaut
Cleveland Indians – machine-like consistency
Big Picture
This postseason? It’s not balanced. It’s not wide open.
It’s top-heavy.
You’ve got four teams—Yankees, Indians, Cubs, Marlins—who feel like they’re playing a different sport than everyone else.
And in the end, everything comes back to one question:
Can anybody—ANYBODY—beat the Yankees four times?
Right now?
I don’t see it.

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There are postseason games… and then there are epics. What unfolded at Tropicana Field on October 2nd, 1940 was something closer to theater—messy, dramatic, unpredictable, and ultimately unforgettable.
The Boston Red Sox defeated the Tampa Bay Rays 11–7 in 10 innings in Game 1 of the American League Wild Card Series, but the score alone hardly captures the chaos. This was a game that twisted and turned, where momentum changed hands like a baton in a relay—sometimes gracefully, often recklessly.
Early on, Tampa Bay appeared to seize control. Behind two home runs from Francisco Hernandez—including a thunderous two-run shot in the first—the Rays built a 5–1 lead and seemed poised to justify their postseason position. But Boston, resilient and relentless, chipped away. A three-run fourth inning erased the deficit, and from there, the game became a test of endurance as much as execution.
And then there was Justin Madigan.
Madigan delivered one of the great individual performances in postseason history—5-for-5, a home run, two triples, two doubles, and four runs batted in. It was not merely production; it was domination. Each time Boston needed a spark, he provided it, culminating in a decisive two-run homer in the 10th inning that broke the game open for good.
Yet even that doesn’t fully define the night.
This was a game riddled with defensive miscues—seven total errors—and interrupted by a 63-minute rain delay that only added to the sense of disjointed drama. The Rays briefly reclaimed the lead in the seventh, Boston answered in the eighth, and by the time the ninth inning ended in a 7–7 stalemate, it felt inevitable that something extraordinary would decide it.
That moment came courtesy of Devin Thorn, whose go-ahead RBI triple in the 10th inning pierced the tension and shifted the balance decisively. From there, Boston surged, scoring four runs in the inning and silencing the home crowd.
In the end, what we witnessed was not a clean game, nor a conventionally well-played one—but it was compelling in the way only October baseball can be. Imperfect, unpredictable, and utterly captivating.
The Red Sox now hold a 1–0 series lead, with two opportunities to advance. The Rays, meanwhile, are left to regroup, knowing that in a series this short, the margin for error—much like in this game—is vanishingly small.

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And now, if you’ll indulge me… let’s take you to a cool October afternoon in Anaheim, where the shadows grow long and the stakes grow even longer.
The Seattle Mariners and the Anaheim Angels opened their Wild Card Series with a ballgame that felt, from the very first pitch, like it might not wish to end quietly.
Seattle came out with purpose. They scratched across a run in the first, added another in the second, and for much of the afternoon, they played the role of the steady traveler—unflustered, opportunistic, and just a bit sharper than the home side. By the seventh inning, behind a lively performance from Ricky Roman and a parade of triples—yes, triples, a most elegant and increasingly rare delight—they had built a 6–4 lead.
But baseball, as it so often does, had other plans.
Anaheim lingered… patiently, almost poetically. In the fourth, David Antillon’s home run tied the game. In the sixth, a flurry of well-placed hits—Juan Garcia with a double, Matt Jones with a triple—brought the Angels back to life. Still, Seattle would not yield. They pushed ahead again, 7–4, heading into the late innings.
And then came the quiet tension of the eighth and ninth… the kind that settles over a ballpark like a held breath.
In the eighth, Juan Garcia—who spent the afternoon reaching base and circling it with purpose—tripled and scored, helping trim the deficit. The crowd began to stir. A murmur turned into belief.
By the ninth, the Mariners were three outs away.
But October has a memory. And sometimes, it remembers the home team.
With two outs, a hit batsman. A walk. Suddenly, the tying runs were aboard. And then Matt Jones—calm, composed—lined a double into the outfield. One run scored… and then another. No throw. No play at the plate. Just the roar of 34,000 voices rising all at once as the Angels completed an 8–7 comeback.
A game that began with Seattle’s control ended with Anaheim’s crescendo.
Juan Garcia, reaching base four times and scoring three runs, was the quiet engine. Matt Jones, with the final, emphatic stroke, was the author of the ending.
And somewhere in the California twilight, you could almost hear the game whisper its timeless refrain:
It’s never over… until it is.

[jg2977]

OH MY GOODNESS, WHAT A GAME, WHAT A GAME, WHAT A GAME!!!
The San Francisco Giants… they did it AGAIN! I mean, you’re watching this thing unfold at Oracle Park, you’re saying to yourself, “They’re DEAD! They are DONE! Stick a fork in ‘em!”—and somehow, SOME WAY, they come storming back and rip Game 1 away from the Arizona Diamondbacks, 7–6!!
Let me tell you something right now—this is why October baseball is the BEST thing we have!!
Arizona comes out SWINGING! Two runs in the first, they tack on three more in the fifth—boom! 5–1, then 6–2 in the sixth! You’ve got homers from Jason Anderson, John Duncan—this lineup is hitting rockets all over the yard! And I’m sitting there going, “Giants pitching? Where is it?! Jonathan Parker? Forget it! He’s getting knocked all over Northern California!”
BUT WAIT A SECOND!!
Here come the Giants… and it starts with a guy you’re gonna remember: Steve Taylor. Three hits! A triple! Two doubles! This guy is EVERYWHERE! He’s the spark, the engine, the whole operation! He’s saying, “Not today! Not in my ballpark!”
Then the sixth inning—BOOM! Three runs! Now it’s 6–5 and you can feel it… the building is shaking, the Diamondbacks are getting tight, and you just KNOW something crazy is coming!
And then… the eighth inning…
Rogelio Herrera steps in.
You’ve got a man on… the Giants are still down a run… and this guy unloads! A TWO-RUN SHOT! RIGHT INTO THE NIGHT!!
BALLGAME FLIPPED UPSIDE DOWN!!!
7–6 GIANTS!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
And give me Chad Swinford out of that bullpen—three innings, ONE hit, shuts the door, calms everything down after Parker got rocked early. That’s a winning performance! That’s guts!
And Arizona? Three errors! THREE! You cannot do that in October! You just can’t! You give a team like the Giants extra chances, they’re gonna MAKE YOU PAY—and that’s exactly what happened!
So now the Giants, with all that postseason pedigree, all that history, they’re sitting pretty—up 1-0 in the series, with TWO chances to close it out.
And the Diamondbacks? Oh, they’re gonna be SICK about this one. This game was theirs! THEY HAD IT!
But they let it slip… and the Giants snatched it right out of their hands!
OH, THIS IS OCTOBER BASEBALL AT ITS FINEST!!!

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Under a warm Southern California sky at PETCO Park, what began as a competitive October afternoon gradually turned into a vivid demonstration of offensive force.
The San Diego Padres struck first, as Danny Jimenez opened the bottom of the first with a home run—an early signal that this Wild Card matchup might carry some volatility. And for a time, it did. The Padres traded blows with the Milwaukee Brewers through the early innings, even reclaiming the lead at 6–5 by the end of the fourth. There was rhythm, tension, and the sense of a game still very much in the balance.
But postseason games can pivot suddenly—and decisively.
The turning point came in the top of the fifth. Corey Shipps, already making his presence felt, launched a solo home run to tie the game. Moments later, Eddie Dirks tripled—again—and Devin Harris followed with a two-run homer. In the span of just a few batters, a tight contest became a widening gap. Milwaukee scored four runs in that inning, then added three more in the sixth, methodically pulling away.
Shipps, in particular, authored a performance that will linger in postseason memory: a home run, a triple, a double, three runs scored, and a quiet command of the moment. He did not merely contribute—he orchestrated.
Around him, the Brewers’ lineup was relentless. Antonio Sanchez collected four hits, including three doubles. Harris drove in four runs. Dirks reached base four times and tied a playoff record with two triples. It was less an attack than an avalanche—layered, sustained, and ultimately overwhelming.
San Diego, to its credit, did not disappear. They tallied 12 hits of their own, with Jimenez and Jeff Rucker each contributing strong efforts. But after the fourth inning, their offense was largely subdued by Mike Lisson, who delivered five innings of composed relief, allowing just one unearned run and stabilizing a game that had briefly teetered.
And so, what began as a back-and-forth October duel concluded as a decisive 14–7 victory for Milwaukee.
In a best-of-three series, there is little room for ambiguity. The Brewers now stand one win from advancing, their offense unmistakably awakened. The Padres, meanwhile, are left with urgency—and the understanding that in October, momentum can be as fleeting as it is powerful.
Game 2 awaits.

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So what is the deal… with playoff baseball games that are three different games in one afternoon?
You’ve got the Boston Red Sox and the Tampa Bay Rays—it starts out, nice, normal, respectable… and then by the eighth inning it turns into a fireworks show, a track meet, and a math problem all at the same time.
I mean, the Rays jump out 3–0 in the first inning—boom! Right away! You’re sitting there thinking, “Alright, this is their game.” Then they keep scoring… 4–1, 6–1, 8–1… at one point it’s 9–1! Nine to one! That’s not a game, that’s a lead. That’s the kind of lead where fans start looking at dinner plans.
And then Boston… Boston… they just hang around like that one guy at a party who never leaves.
“Oh, you’re still here?”
“Yeah, I brought offense.”
Suddenly the eighth inning hits—five runs! FIVE! Triples everywhere! When did triples become so popular? Nobody hits triples! It’s like seeing someone use a fax machine—“Oh wow, that still exists!”
And then the ninth inning… what is this, a video game? Another FIVE runs! Home runs, triples, doubles—guys are just circling the bases like they forgot something in the dugout. Justin Madigan is out there hitting like he’s late for a train—two triples, a home run, four RBIs—.800 average?! That’s not a stat line, that’s a typo.
Meanwhile, the Rays are just standing there like, “We had nine runs… we thought nine was enough! Since when is nine not enough?!”
And the pitching? Forget it. By the end, every pitcher looks like they just ran a marathon carrying groceries. Nobody’s getting outs, everybody’s scoring—it’s like the strike zone filed a complaint and left the building.
But that’s playoff baseball! You think you’re watching one story… and suddenly it’s a completely different show. It’s like you sat down for a drama and halfway through it turns into an action movie.
Final score: 11–9, Boston. Series over. Sweep!
The Red Sox are moving on to face the New York Yankees… which, by the way, is the only matchup where both fanbases enter already angry.
And somewhere in Tampa, fans are still asking the same question:
“How do you score nine runs… and lose by two?!”

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So let me get this straight… the Seattle Mariners come all the way out to Anaheim, right? Big trip, big series, everything on the line… and what do they do? They score three runs. Three! That’s not a baseball score—that’s a bowling frame!
Meanwhile, the Anaheim Angels… they get seven runs on seven hits. Seven runs on seven hits! That’s efficiency! That’s like ordering takeout and getting exactly seven fries—no more, no less. Who does that?!
And this guy David Antillon… ohhh, this guy. Three runs, two hits, home runs, triples—he’s doing everything! You ever have a day where everything just works? You find a parking spot, your shirt fits right, the sandwich is perfect? That’s Antillon! Meanwhile, Seattle can’t even figure out how to get a guy home from third without being thrown out like he’s trying to sneak into a movie theater.
And the errors! Two errors by Seattle. TWO! You can’t give away outs in baseball! That’s like giving away your seat on the subway—what are you doing?! Sit down! It’s your seat!
And how about this—Seattle keeps getting guys on base… and then nothing happens. Nothing! It’s like they’re setting up a surprise party and then forgetting to invite the guest of honor. “We got runners in scoring position!” Great! Score them! That’s the whole point of the position!
Then Anaheim—boom—home run here, triple there, sac fly, steal a base… they’re playing baseball like they’ve got somewhere to be! Seattle’s out there like, “Eh, we’ll get to it.”
And by the ninth inning, it’s already over. Shoemaker hits a home run—now you hit a home run?! That’s like apologizing after the relationship is over. “Oh, NOW you’re thoughtful?!”
So Anaheim wins, sweeps the series, and moves on. Seattle? They’re going home thinking, “You know… we almost had ‘em.”
Almost?! You lost by four runs!! That’s not almost—that’s definitely!

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MIKE: Let me tell ya somethin’ right now, this is exactly what we talked about yesterday, okay? The Giants lineup? It’s RELENTLESS. You score 9 runs, Dog, NINE runs, and you still lose by five! That tells you everything!
MAD DOG: I mean—Mike! Mike!—what are the Diamondbacks supposed to do?! They got SIXTEEN hits! SIXTEEN! That’s supposed to win you TWO games! And they still get swept! Swept!
MIKE: Because they don’t pitch! They don’t pitch, Christopher! Pritchett gets knocked around, Logan gets knocked around, everybody’s getting knocked around! It’s batting practice out there!
MAD DOG: And how about this Taylor kid?! STEVE TAYLOR?! He’s Babe Ruth out there! Three hits, homer, triple—he’s on base every five seconds! You can’t get him out!
MIKE: He’s the best player in the series, that’s it. .667 average? Are you kiddin’ me? That’s video game stuff. That’s not real life.
MAD DOG: And Herrera! Herrera with the big blast in the fourth! BOOM! Two-run shot! Then Taylor comes right back—BACK-TO-BACK! The game’s OVER! It’s OVER right there!
MIKE: That fourth inning broke their back. You go from 4-2 to 7-2 just like that, and you’re chasing the whole rest of the afternoon in the rain. That’s not how you win playoff games.
MAD DOG: But give Arizona a LITTLE credit! They didn’t quit! Ninth inning—boom, boom, boom! Nunez, Casas—homers! They made it look respectable!
MIKE: Stop it. Stop it right now. The game was 14-6! Nobody in that ballpark thought Arizona was coming back. Not one person. Not even their families!
MAD DOG: I’m just sayin’, Mike, they showed some HEART!
MIKE: Heart doesn’t win you playoff series! Pitching does! And the Giants got enough of it—and they got a lineup that doesn’t stop. One through nine, they HIT.
MAD DOG: So now they get Chicago?! Ohhh, that’s a SERIES! That is a SERIES!
MIKE: That’s the one. That’s the test. But I’m tellin’ ya right now—if the Giants hit like THIS? They’re goin’ back to the World Series. Book it.
MAD DOG: BOOK IT?! It’s October 4th! You’re bookin’ it already?!
MIKE: I’m bookin’ it. They score 14 like it’s nothin’? I’m bookin’ it.
MAD DOG: Ohhhh boy… here we go!

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Charlie Brown:
Good grief… I don’t even know where to start.
The Milwaukee Brewers scored 10 runs… ten! That’s supposed to be enough to win a baseball game… right?
But… the San Diego Padres scored 16.
Sixteen…
(looks at box score, sighs deeply)
I mean… every time Milwaukee did something good… San Diego just did something better. It’s like trying to kick the football and having Lucy van Pelt pull it away at the last second. You think you’ve got a chance… and then—WHAM!—five runs in the fourth inning.
And that Manuel Rico guy…
Four hits. A home run. A triple. A double…
Good grief… he hit for the cycle. I can’t even get one hit in my neighborhood games.
And Cesar Morin! He hit a home run… and then TWO triples! Two! I didn’t even know you could do that in one game… I can barely run to first base without tripping.
(long pause)
The Brewers finally score five runs in the sixth… and for a moment, you think… “Hey, maybe they’ve got a chance!”
But no… the Padres just keep scoring. Again… and again… and again…
It’s like when I build a sandcastle, and the waves just keep coming…
(looks down)
And now the series is tied, 1–1.
So everything comes down to one last game.
Game 3…
(tiny bit of hope in his voice)
Maybe… maybe the Brewers can turn it around.
(immediate doubt)
…or maybe something will go wrong again.
Good grief.

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Bob Costas:
At Petco Park on a mild October afternoon, what unfolded was not merely a decisive Game 3… it was something closer to controlled chaos—an offensive eruption that felt, at times, almost unsustainable.
The San Diego Padres defeat the Milwaukee Brewers, 15–12, to capture the National League Wild Card Series, two games to one… and advance.
But the score alone doesn’t quite capture the rhythm of this game.
Milwaukee surged early—five runs in the first two innings, then three more in the fifth. By the middle innings, they had built what, in most games, would feel like a commanding lead. And yet… nothing about this game behaved normally.
San Diego answered not incrementally, but emphatically.
Down 8–3 in the fifth, the Padres delivered the first decisive counterpunch—five runs, capped by a towering three-run home run from Danny Speigel, who would ultimately be named Player of the Game. That swing didn’t just tie the score—it reset the emotional tenor of the afternoon.
Then came the sixth inning… and with it, the game’s defining sequence.
Milwaukee appeared to seize control once more, powered by a grand slam from Paul Bader to take a 12–8 lead. For a moment, it felt like the final turn in their favor.
But baseball, particularly in October, has a way of humbling certainty.
The Padres responded—again—with six runs in the bottom half. Extra-base hits came in waves: doubles, a triple from Manuel Rico, relentless pressure, and an inability by Milwaukee’s pitching staff to stop the bleeding. By the end of the inning, San Diego had reclaimed the lead, 14–12… and this time, they would not relinquish it.
Rico, Speigel, and Marco Ceryantes formed the backbone of an 18-hit attack. Speigel alone accounted for six runs batted in, while Rico’s combination of power and speed consistently tilted the field.
And hovering over the entire series was Cesar Morin—the MVP—who hit an astonishing .615 across the three games, reaching base at the same rate, scoring seven times, and serving as a constant catalyst at the top of the lineup.
Milwaukee, to their credit, did not falter offensively. Twelve runs, thirteen hits, and a grand slam in an elimination game will win you most nights.
Just not this one.
And so, the Padres move on—to face the Miami Marlins in the Division Series, a rematch of last year’s National League Championship Series.
If this game is any indication… that series may demand even more from both clubs.
Because what we witnessed here was not simply a victory.
It was endurance. It was volatility.
And, in its own way… it was October baseball at its most unrestrained.

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[jg2977]

1940 League Division Series

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Mike Francesa:
Alright—alright—lemme just say this right now. If you just looked at the score… 33–8… you’d think it’s a typo. You’d think somebody fat-fingered the scoreboard at Yankee Stadium. IT IS NOT A TYPO!
The New York Yankees just obliterated the Boston Red Sox in Game 1. This is a playoff game! This is not June! This is not batting practice!
Chris Russo:
MIKE—I MEAN—WHAT ARE WE DOIN’ HERE?! Thirty-three runs?! THIRTY-THREE?! I mean, I’m sittin’ there, I’m watchin’, I blink, it’s 4–0. I go get a sandwich—it’s 9–1! I come BACK—it’s 15–2!!
This is a postseason game or a pinball machine?!
Francesa:
Dog, I’ve been watchin’ baseball a long time. You don’t see 33 runs in a WEEK, let alone one game in October. And here’s the thing—you ready? Boston didn’t even play that bad offensively. They had 12 hits! They scored eight runs!
Eight runs usually wins you the game by five!
Russo:
Exactly! Devin Thorn’s hittin’ triples all over the yard like he’s Ty Cobb, Madigan’s on base every two seconds—and it DOESN’T MATTER! It doesn’t matter!
Because every time the Yankees come up, it’s like—boom! homer! boom! double! boom! GRAND SLAM—well not even a grand slam, they didn’t NEED it!
Francesa:
Let’s talk about this guy—Cory Kassebaum. Four-for-five. Two homers. Two doubles. TWELVE RBI.
TWELVE!
That’s not a typo either. That’s a record. That’s one guy driving in a football score by himself!
Russo:
Mike, I’m tellin’ ya right now—if you’re Boston, how do you even show up tomorrow?! What do you do, take a day off?! Send a postcard?!
Because psychologically—you got DESTROYED!
Francesa:
And it wasn’t just Kassebaum. This whole Yankee lineup—top to bottom—was ridiculous.
Zuby Ejiofor—three homers
Mark Martinez—four hits, three triples, six runs! SIX!
Rick Carter—six runs!
Cavazos, bombs
Thomas, bombs
Culpepper, bombs
Dog, they hit everything!
Russo:
They scored in EVERY inning except the ninth—AND THEY DIDN’T EVEN BAT IN THE NINTH! They probably would’ve gotten to 40!
Francesa (laughing):
They left runs on the table! That’s the scary part! They left runs on the table!
Russo:
And Boston’s pitching—forget it. Juarez? Eight runs in ONE inning! Wohlfahrt comes in—gets shelled! Bloom—shelled! Garcia—shelled! Everybody gets shelled!
It’s like a parade of misery!
Francesa:
Here’s the bottom line: The Yankees came into this postseason as a powerhouse—and in Game 1, they didn’t just win…
They sent a message to the entire league.
Russo (rapid-fire):
A message?! Mike, this is a WARNING LABEL! This is—“Do not operate heavy machinery while facing the Yankees lineup!” That’s what this is!
Francesa (firm):
Series is 1–0. Long way to go. But if you’re Boston…
You’re not just down a game.
You’re trying to recover from a historic embarrassment.
Russo (dramatic):
Game 2 tomorrow?! I wouldn’t sleep tonight! I’d be up ALL NIGHT thinkin’ about Kassebaum comin’ up with the bases loaded again!

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Harry Doyle:
Well, good afternoon, folks… and if you’re just tuning in, I hope you like offense… because that’s about all we had today at Jacobs Field.
Final score: the Cleveland Indians… 29… the Anaheim Angels… 8.
Yep… twenty-nine.
(pause)
That’s not a typo… that’s a cry for help.
Now, coming into this one, you figured Cleveland had the edge… but nobody—nobody—saw this coming.
The Indians jumped out early—four runs in the first—and right there you start thinking, “Okay, nice start.”
Then they scored again… and again… and again…
By the sixth inning, this thing was less “Division Series opener”… and more “batting practice with a scoreboard.”
Let’s talk about Henri Veesaar… because, well… you have to.
Three home runs.
Count ‘em—one… two… three.
Drove in six, scored four, stole a couple bases just for fun… at one point I think he considered pitching the ninth.
He’s your Player of the Game… your Player of the Week… maybe your Player of the Decade.
And then there’s Raul Espino.
Five hits… FOUR doubles… a home run… seven RBIs…
Four doubles! You don’t see that unless the outfielders are charging admission to chase the ball.
Everybody got in on the act.
Engel—two homers.
Holloway—five runs scored.
Alay—five runs scored.
Hewes—four hits.
At one point, the lineup card started to look like a phone book.
Now, to Anaheim’s credit… they didn’t just roll over.
They put up eight runs… had eleven hits… even had a five-run inning.
(slight chuckle)
Problem was… Cleveland had already hung ten on the board by then… and they were just getting warmed up.
Pitching-wise…
Well…
Let’s just say the Angels used six pitchers… and I think all of ‘em are gonna want to forget they were here.
One guy gave up four runs in a third of an inning… another gave up five… and by the end, the bullpen phone probably just rang and nobody answered.
Bob Soto gets the win for Cleveland—seven innings, solid enough…
And when you score 29 runs, “solid enough” is more than enough.
So the Indians take Game 1… and take it emphatically.
Series lead: 1–0.
And if you’re Anaheim?
You show up tomorrow… you stretch… you regroup…
(pause)
…and maybe you don’t give up thirty.
We’ll see you for Game 2, folks.
And until then…
(grinning tone)
Remember—there’s no mercy rule in the playoffs.

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Dexter Morgan:
Tonight… the blood told a story.
Not the kind I’m used to.
No plastic wrap. No ritual. No precision.
Just chaos… loud, explosive… impossible to ignore.
At LoanDepot Park… the Miami Marlins didn’t just win Game 1.
They overwhelmed the San Diego Padres.
11–6.
But the score doesn’t capture the moment everything changed.
It started quietly.
San Diego struck first… methodical… controlled.
A run in the first. Another in the second.
A clean… surgical approach.
The kind I respect.
And then… the third inning happened.
(pause)
Five runs.
Not built… unleashed.
Tyler Adams.
Two swings earlier in the game… two home runs.
But the third inning? That was confirmation.
Another blast. No hesitation. No doubt.
Three hits. Two home runs. Four RBIs.
Efficient. Ruthless.
He didn’t chase the moment…
He became it.
And then there was Felix Ochoa.
The swing that broke the structure.
A three-run home run… deep… violent…
The kind of contact that doesn’t just score runs…
It ends resistance.
San Diego’s starter, Evan Kendrick…
He didn’t collapse all at once.
He unraveled.
Four home runs allowed in less than three innings.
Each one louder than the last.
Each one… final.
The Padres tried to respond.
They always do.
A run here… a home run from Speigel… pressure… movement…
But it wasn’t enough.
Because Miami never lost control again.
They just… kept applying pressure.
Quietly.
Relentlessly.
And that’s what makes this dangerous.
Not the noise.
Not the scoreboard.
But the certainty.
The Marlins now lead the series 1–0.
And the Padres?
They’re not dead.
Not yet.
But they’ve been opened up.
Studied.
Exposed.
And once you see how something breaks…
(slight pause)
…it’s hard to unsee it.
Game 2 is tomorrow.
Same place.
Same conditions.
Different outcome?
(quiet, almost amused)
We’ll see.
Because now…
Miami knows exactly where to cut.

[jg2977]

Chris Russo (Mad Dog):
DOG HERE!! DOG HERE!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS GAME?!?!
Game 1 at Wrigley Field—and the San Francisco Giants come in and just start BASHIN’ the Chicago Cubs all over the North Side!!
13–9!! THIRTEEN TO NINE!! This thing was a TRACK MEET!!
And let me tell ya something right now—EDGAR PERDOMO!!!
THIS GUY!! THIS GUY!!!
3-for-5!! TWO HOME RUNS!! A DOUBLE!! FOUR RBIs!!
He’s hittin’ balls all over Chicago like he’s got a map of the place!!
Left! Right! Center! Probably hit one onto Waveland, I mean GOOD NIGHT!!
And the Giants lineup?! RELENTLESS!!
Valenzuela—three hits!
Campbell—big bomb!
Herrera—homered early, set the tone!
Shackelford—three hits!
They had 18 hits!! EIGHTEEN!! You kidding me?!?!
But hey—HEY—give the Cubs a little credit!!
They didn’t roll over!!
Nine runs! Nation with a BIG homer! Lozano goes deep! Irving’s runnin’ around hittin’ triples like it’s batting practice!
They get it to 10–9 at one point and you’re thinkin’—
“WE GOT A GAME!! WE GOT A SERIES!!”
But then—BOOM!!
Giants tack on… insurance… more insurance… then a little extra just for fun!!
And that bullpen—T. Green comes in—SHUTS. IT. DOWN.
Now lemme tell ya the REAL story though—
The Cubs pitching?!
(groans loudly)
OOOF!!
Gaytan gives up SIX runs in TWO innings!!
Jackson—more runs!!
Everybody’s givin’ up rockets!!
You cannot pitch like that in October! YOU CAN’T!!
And how about this—wind blowin’ IN at Wrigley…
IN!!
And they STILL hit like NINE MILES of home runs combined!!
WHAT IS THAT?!?!
So now—Giants take Game 1…
ON THE ROAD…
In a place that’s been WAITIN’ 14 YEARS for this moment!!
And they just walk in and say—
“Yeah, we’ll take this one, thanks.”
Game 2 tomorrow!!
And I’ll tell ya right now—
If you’re the Cubs, you better tighten that pitching up FAST…
Because if not?
This series is gonna be over before you can say—
(laughing, shouting)
“HEY MIKE, THE GIANTS ARE BACK!!!”