National Baseball League

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(YES Network energy meets pure Larry David neurosis—this is gonna be fun)

Michael Kay:
Well… if you like offense—if you love offense—if you dream about offense… then Game 2 in the Bronx was your kind of afternoon. The New York Yankees defeat the Boston Red Sox… 25–10.
Twenty-five runs. Twenty-one hits. And frankly, it felt like more.
Larry David:
Yeah, yeah, it felt like more because it never ended. This game—three hours and forty-one minutes—I aged during this game. I started watching in my living room, I finished it in a retirement home!
Kay:
Let’s start with the story of the game—Zuby Ejiofor.
Five hits. Three home runs. Seven runs batted in. Five runs scored.
That’s not a stat line—that’s a video game on beginner mode.
Larry:
Three home runs?! THREE?!
Who is this guy?! Why is nobody stopping him?! At some point you just walk him! Walk him every time! Put him on first, put him on second—give him a sandwich, I don’t care—just don’t let him hit again!
Kay (laughing):
And he wasn’t alone!
Rick Carter—four home runs.
German Cavazos—four hits, four RBIs.
Tim Culpepper—bases loaded bomb.
The Yankees hit twelve home runs as a team.
Larry:
Twelve home runs?! That’s not baseball—that’s a fireworks show! Where’s the permit for this?! You need a permit for that many explosions!!
Kay:
And here’s the amazing part, Larry—the Red Sox scored 10 runs.
Larry (stops, confused):
They scored TEN… and lost by FIFTEEN?!
How is that possible?! If you score 10 runs, you should win! That’s the deal! That’s the social contract of baseball!
Kay:
It usually is… just not today.
Boston actually led this game 7–3 in the second inning.
Larry (stunned):
Wait—they had a FOUR-RUN LEAD?!
(pause)
…they should be investigated. I’m serious. You can’t lose by fifteen when you were up four! Something’s wrong!
Kay:
The Yankees tied it… then took the lead… and then just kept scoring. Fourth inning—four runs. Fifth inning—four more. Sixth inning—another four.
It was relentless.
Larry:
Relentless?! It’s RUDE!! At some point you stop! You ever hear of manners?! You’re up by ten—go home! Wrap it up! Have some decency!
Kay:
That’s not how October works.
Larry:
It should be! There should be a mercy rule! I’m calling for a mercy rule! This is inhumane!
Kay:
And now the Yankees take a 2–0 series lead heading to Fenway Park.
Larry:
Oh great—so now Boston has to go home… in front of their fans… after giving up TWENTY-FIVE RUNS?!
That’s not a homecoming—that’s a public shaming!
Kay:
If you’re the Red Sox, what do you even say?
Larry:
You don’t say anything—you APOLOGIZE! You line up, you apologize to the fans, you apologize to baseball, you apologize to the concept of pitching!
Kay (smiling):
Game 3… Wednesday night… Fenway Park.
Larry:
Yeah—and bring extra baseballs… because apparently they’re not staying in the park!!
Kay (classic sign-off tone):
The Yankees—25 runs, total domination, and a commanding 2–0 lead.
We’ll see if Boston has any answers…
…but after tonight—Larry—I’m not so sure they do.
Larry:
No answers?! They don’t even have QUESTIONS anymore!!

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Harry Doyle:
Well folks… if you just tuned in, you missed a whole lotta baseball… and if you’re an Angels fan, you might wanna keep that dial movin’.
The Cleveland Indians absolutely hammer the Anaheim Angels… 18 to 1.
That’s not a ballgame—that’s a public service announcement.
Now let’s start with the man of the hour—Nate Martin.
Eight no-hit innings. Count ‘em—eight.
He was mowing ‘em down like grass in July. Fastball here, fly ball there—heck, the Angels couldn’t hit water if they fell outta a boat.
And then… (sighs)
Top of the ninth.
Double. Triple.
There goes the no-hitter… there goes the shutout…
…and somewhere, a bar tab just got a little heavier.
But give the kid his due—complete game, two-hitter, one run.
That’ll play. That’ll play anywhere.
Meanwhile… the Indians offense?
Ohhh boy.
Edgar Morales—three hits, a homer, two doubles, five RBIs, two walks…
At one point I thought they were gonna let him bat twice in the same inning just to keep things interesting.
And Henri Veesaar—three home runs.
Three!
You hit three home runs in a playoff game, you don’t pay for drinks in this town ever again… and frankly, you shouldn’t have to pay for parking either.
Mike Amero? Four hits.
Danny Alay? Three hits.
Everybody’s hittin’!
I’m lookin’ at the bat rack—even the pine tar’s got a batting average today!
Eighteen runs on twenty hits.
Folks, that’s what we in the business call… a good day.
And the Angels pitching staff?
Well… let’s just say if you’re lookin’ for ‘em, check the lost and found.
So the Indians take a 2–0 series lead, headin’ west for Game 3…
And if you’re Anaheim, you might wanna bring a little pitching… and maybe a prayer.
(pause, lighter flick)
That’s all from Cleveland…
where the beer is cold…
the bats are hot…
…and for eight glorious innings…
Nate Martin was untouchable.

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Carrie Mathison:
No… this wasn’t just a baseball game.
This was chaos disguised as competition.
Start with the surface:
Final score—16–14, San Diego Padres over the Miami Marlins.
Series tied 1–1.
That’s what they want you to see.
But look deeper.
This game spiraled immediately. First inning—3–0 Padres.
Then Miami answers—3–3.
No control. No containment.
That’s not coincidence—that’s a system breaking down.
Second inning… that’s the trigger event.
Danny Speigel.
Bases loaded. Two outs.
Grand slam.
Everything shifts right there.
The Marlins’ starter, Coronado? He’s done. Pulled early. Damage irreversible.
And Speigel doesn’t stop—4-for-6, 8 RBIs, triple, double.
That’s not just production—that’s total operational dominance.
But here’s where it gets complicated…
Miami didn’t fold.
Jesus Davila.
Five hits. Two home runs. Six runs scored.
Six.
That’s not normal. That’s escalation.
And Josh Clark—seven RBIs.
They kept responding. Every time San Diego created separation, Miami closed the gap.
So why didn’t they win?
Because they couldn’t control the bleeding.
Look at the pitching logs.
Miami cycles through four arms. None of them stabilize the situation. Walks. Long balls. Missed locations.
They weren’t executing—they were reacting.
And when you’re reacting, you’ve already lost.
San Diego? Not clean—but just controlled enough.
They absorb the early hit—eight runs allowed by Ramirez—and pivot.
Burquez comes in, contains. Limits damage. Keeps the structure intact.
That’s the difference.
And then the eighth inning.
Four runs by San Diego.
That’s the kill shot.
Miami scores 14 runs… 23 hits… and still loses.
You know what that tells me?
They had access. They had opportunity.
But they couldn’t finish the operation.
Now the series shifts to San Diego.
Momentum? That’s real—but it’s fragile.
Because if Miami cleans up even one layer of execution—pitch sequencing, bullpen timing, defensive positioning—this flips again.
But right now?
San Diego just proved something critical:
They can survive a game where everything goes wrong… and still win.
(quiet pause)
And that’s the kind of team…
that becomes very hard to stop.

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Harry Caray:
HOLY COW!!!
ARE YOU KIDDIN’ ME?!?!
I have been around this game a long time, folks… but what we just saw at Wrigley Field—YOU DON’T SEE THIS! You just don’t!!
The Chicago Cubs didn’t just beat the San Francisco Giants…
They STAMPED ‘EM!
21 TO 7!!!
And let me tell ya something—this game was over before you even got your hot dog and a cold one!
First inning—BOOM! Cubs hang a four spot!
Second inning—BOOM AGAIN!
And the Giants? They’re lookin’ around like, “What just hit us?!”
But folks… this game belongs to ONE man.
A kid! A rookie! Twenty-one years old!
BIRGIR IRVING!!!
Three home runs! Count ‘em! ONE! TWO! THREE!!!
Nine runs batted in!
Five hits!
Five runs scored!
HOLY COW, did he put on a SHOW!!!
I mean—this kid was hittin’ everything! Fastballs, curves, didn’t matter! If you threw it up there, it was GONE!
Into the bleachers! Into the seats! Into Chicago legend!!
And how about this Cubs lineup?!
22 hits!!
Scott Evans—five hits!
Alex Lozano—three doubles!
Hopson drivin’ in runs!
It was a HIT PARADE!!
Meanwhile, the Giants pitching… oh boy…
They used EVERYBODY! And it didn’t matter WHO they brought in—
The Cubs just kept SWINGIN’ and SWINGIN’ and SWINGIN’!
Now hey, give the Giants a little credit—Snapp hits a homer, knocks in four… they scratch out seven runs…
But when you give up TWENTY-ONE—
Heh… it ain’t gonna be your day!
And just like that, this series—
ALL TIED UP! One game apiece!
Now they’re headin’ back to San Francisco… and let me tell ya…
If I’m the Giants, I’m thinkin’—
“How do we get THIS guy out?!”
(laughs, almost in disbelief)
Because if Birgir Irving keeps hittin’ like that…
You can forget about scouting reports…
You might need a prayer!
HOLY COW!!! What a ballgame!!!

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New York Yankees: 17th ALCS berth
1904 1905 1909 1910 1912 1913 1920 1921 1922 1923 1924 1925 1926 1927 1937 1939 1940

Mike Francesa:
Alright, let me tell ya something right now, okay… this is what the New York Yankees do. This is what they’ve ALWAYS done.
You don’t win 152 games by accident, Chris. You don’t stroll into Boston Red Sox territory, Fenway Park, and just hope things go your way.
They demolish you. That’s what they do.
Chris Russo:
Oh Mike, STOP IT! Stop it right now! DEMOLISH?! They didn’t demolish ‘em—they OBLITERATED ‘EM! They vaporized ‘em! Boston didn’t even KNOW what hit ‘em!
Francesa:
It’s a sweep. That’s the bottom line. Three games—DONE.
And now—17th ALCS appearance in 40 years. Seventeen! That’s not a franchise, that’s a MACHINE.
Russo:
Mike, I’m gonna say it—this is ridiculous! It’s not fair! How is this fair to the rest of baseball?!
You got this guy—what’s his name—Zuby Ejiofor?!
.667! SEVEN HOME RUNS IN THREE GAMES?! That’s not real! That’s a video game!
Francesa:
He was great. No question. He’s your series MVP. But don’t lose the forest for the trees here.
This lineup—top to bottom—EVERYBODY hits.
Kassebaum—four hits today.
Martinez—three hits, triples all over the place.
Cavazos, Thomas, Carter—they all contribute.
Russo:
THE EIGHTH INNING, MIKE!!! EIGHT RUNS!!!
They turned the game into batting practice! Boston’s bringin’ in pitchers—one guy gives up four runs in TWO-THIRDS OF AN INNING! Another guy gives up FOUR HOMERS!
FOUR HOMERS, MIKE! IN ONE INNING!!
Francesa:
It got outta hand. That’s what happens when a great team smells blood.
And let me say this—Alex Leal? That’s exactly what you want. Complete game, keeps the pitch count reasonable, gives up three runs—game’s never in doubt.
Russo:
Boston had NO shot! NONE!
They score one run, they blink, it’s 4-1… then BOOM—it’s 13-1 before they even realize what’s happening! The fans are headin’ for the exits, the game’s over, season’s over, GOOD NIGHT!
Francesa:
And now here’s the key question—who are they gonna play?
If it’s Cleveland Indians, that’s a heavyweight fight. That’s a real series.
If it’s Anaheim Angels—still good, but Cleveland’s the one with the pedigree this year.
Russo:
I don’t care who it is, Mike—I’M TELLIN’ YA RIGHT NOW—
If the Yankees hit like THIS?!
Pack it up! Wrap it up! Start engravin’ the trophy!
Francesa (calm, definitive):
Let’s not get carried away. It’s October. Things change.
But I’ll say this—
Right now?
They’re the best team in baseball…
…and it’s not particularly close.

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Bob Costas:
There are October games… and then there are October games that seem to spill out of their own boundaries—where structure gives way to chaos, and the box score reads less like a summary and more like a novella.
Game 3 between the Cleveland Indians and the Anaheim Angels was unmistakably the latter.
At first glance, it appeared Cleveland was scripting something memorable of their own.
Henri Veesaar—already authoring a remarkable postseason—put together one of those rare performances that demands historical context. Two home runs. Two triples. Four hits. Five runs batted in. Fourteen total bases.
It was, quite simply, a virtuoso performance… the kind that typically wins a playoff game.
And yet, somehow, it didn’t.
Because this game refused to belong to any one man—or any one moment.
Anaheim answered early, erasing deficits almost as quickly as they appeared. By the middle innings, the game had already unraveled into something unpredictable.
Triples ricocheted into the gaps. Errors crept in at the worst possible moments—five of them by Cleveland, each one subtly shifting the balance.
And then came the sixth inning.
Cleveland surged ahead, plating five runs in a display of relentless offense that felt decisive at the time. At 9–7, with Veesaar continuing his assault, it seemed the Indians might seize complete control of the series.
But October, as it so often does, had other ideas.
In the bottom of the seventh, with tension thick and the margin still fragile, Matt Jones delivered the swing that will echo in Anaheim baseball lore.
Two outs. Runners on. A season teetering.
One swing.
A three-run home run.
Suddenly, the Angels were not just alive—they were ahead.
And hovering over it all was Akiyuki Amano—October’s emerging constant.
Three hits. Three runs driven in. A presence that seems to grow with each passing game. Not always the loudest moment, but always somewhere near the center of it.
The final ledger is almost absurd:
12 runs on 11 hits for Anaheim.
11 runs on 17 hits for Cleveland.
A one-run game that felt like five different games stitched together.
For Anaheim, it is more than a win—it is a reprieve. A foothold.
For Cleveland, it is the kind of loss that lingers. One in which brilliance—Veesaar’s brilliance—is ultimately overshadowed by the collective unraveling around it.
The series now stands at 2–1.
And if Game 3 is any indication…
what comes next may be impossible to predict.

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Bill Swerski: Alright, alright, alright, welcome back to Bill Swerski’s Superfans! I’m Bill Swerski, and boy—lemme tell ya—dis was not a baseball game… dis was a public service announcement!
Pat: Daaaa Cubs!
Carl: Da Cubs went out to San Francisco—nice town, little foggy, overpriced coffee—and just absolutely destroyed da San Francisco Giants!
Todd: 20 to 5!!! TWENTY!! You don’t score 20 in baseball unless you accidentally switch to football in da middle of da game!
Bill Swerski: I mean, what was dat? Was dat a playoff game or batting practice?!
Pat: Dat was a statement game, Bill! Da Chicago Cubs came in like, “Oh, you got nice weather? That’s cute. We’re gonna hang TWENTY on ya.”
Carl: Can we talk about dis guy Justin Hopson?! SIX RBIs!! SIX!!
Todd: SIX!! I don’t even got six friends, Carl!
Pat: Speak for yourself, Todd.
Todd: I’m countin’ you guys and I’m still short!
Bill Swerski: And how about dis—da Cubs score runs in every inning!
Carl: Dat’s consistency! Dat’s fundamentals! Dat’s Midwestern values right dere!
Pat: Yeah, not like dem coastal teams, always takin’ innings off… “Oh I need a break, I’m tired…”
Todd: “Oh I gotta admire da view of da bay…” NO! HIT DA BALL!
Bill Swerski: And den da ninth inning—like dey didn’t already do enough damage—Hopson hits a THREE-RUN BOMB to make it TWENTY!
Carl: That’s not necessary!
Pat: It’s EXTREMELY necessary! You gotta send a message!
Todd: Yeah, message received: “Please make it stop.”
Bill Swerski: Meanwhile, da Giants…
Carl: Yeah what happened dere?
Pat: Nothin’. Dat’s what happened.
Todd: Dey scored five, but it felt like negative five!
Bill Swerski: Look, dis series is now 2-1 Cubs…
Carl: One more win! ONE MORE!
Pat: First playoff appearance in 14 years and now dey’re just steamrollin’ people!
Todd: Dis is how dynasties start, I’m tellin’ ya!
Bill Swerski: Final thoughts—
Pat: Cubs by a billion.
Carl: Cubs in four.
Todd: Cubs forever.
All together: DAAAA CUBS!!! 🐻⚾

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You ever notice how baseball pretends to be a calm, orderly game?
Nine innings… nice and neat… very polite…
Yeah, not tonight!
Tonight you got the Miami Marlins and the San Diego Padres playin’ what I can only describe as a numerical crime spree!
Eleven to eight?!
That’s not a baseball score—that’s a bank password!
And I love this—Miami scores eight runs…
EIGHT!
In most neighborhoods, eight runs wins you the game, buys you dinner, and gets you a parade!
Not here!
Here, eight runs gets you a polite handshake and a plane ticket home.
San Diego scores in the first inning—BOOM!
Home run, triple, double—these guys are hittin’ for the cycle of violence!
By the fourth inning, it’s 7–4, and I’m thinkin’,
“Alright, that’s enough chaos for one evening.”
NOPE.
They come back with a three-run homer like they forgot something in the oven!
“Oh wait! We left more runs! Put ‘em on the board!”
And then you got this guy—Marco Ceryantes…
Two hits, a home run, walks, runs scored…
This guy’s doin’ everything except sell hot dogs in the stands!
At this point, just give him a glove, a bat, and the keys to the city!
But my favorite part?
Miami keeps comin’ back!
Every time San Diego scores, Miami’s like,
“Hey, we’re still here! We brought more numbers!”
Seven… eight… six… five…
This game looks like someone dropped a calculator down the stairs!
And the pitchers… oh, the pitchers…
You got ERAs lookin’ like gas prices in a crisis!
13.50?!
That’s not an ERA—that’s a cry for help!
But here’s the thing I love about baseball…
It’s the only sport where you can score eight runs…
have eleven hits…
do almost everything right…
…and still walk away feelin’ like you just got mugged by arithmetic.
So now the Padres lead the series 2–1…
And Miami?
Miami’s gotta be sittin’ there thinkin’,
“Next game… maybe we try scoring TWELVE.”
Because apparently…
eight ain’t enough to survive this insanity! 😄

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Cleveland Indians: 13th ALCS berth
1902 1919 1920 1921 1923 1924 1925 1926 1930 1935 1937 1939 1940

“Hi everybody, and welcome once again to the show…”
Well, pull up a chair, grab yourself a cold one—you might need two after this one—because the Cleveland Indians are headed back to the League Championship Series… and folks, they didn’t exactly take the scenic route.
Final score: Cleveland 15, Anaheim Angels 12.
Or as we like to call it… “pitching optional.”
This one had everything.
Home runs, triples, doubles… probably a partridge in a pear tree somewhere in the seventh inning.
The Indians come out swinging early—and I mean early—Mike Amero says hello with a two-run shot in the first, and from there… well… they never really stopped saying hello.
Amero again later—another home run, a couple triples for good measure—14 total bases!
At that point, you don’t need a bat… you need a frequent flyer card.
And how about Matt Holloway?
Four hits, four RBIs… just quietly ruining Anaheim’s afternoon like a guy who shows up to a picnic and eats everything.
Meanwhile, Henri Veesaar—your series MVP—didn’t even need a huge night.
That’s how ridiculous this lineup was.
He just tosses in a homer, reaches base, smiles, and says,
“Yeah, we’ll see you in the ALCS.”
Now let’s talk about the pitching…
Actually—no, let’s not.
Because if you like ERA, this game probably made you physically uncomfortable.
Jose Correa starts it, gives up seven runs…
Perezchica comes in, gives up five…
and somehow—somehow—he gets the win!
That’s baseball, folks.
You give up five runs and they hand you a victory and a handshake.
And give the Angels credit—they didn’t go quietly.
Down 8–3? They make it 8–7.
Down again? They keep swinging.
Nine runs through six innings… and they’re still chasing!
That’s like scoring eight touchdowns and still losing the football game.
But in the end, Cleveland just had too much.
Too many bats, too many big swings, too many moments where Anaheim probably said,
“Hey… can we get just one inning off?”
Answer: No. No, you cannot.
So the Indians take the series 3 games to 1…
And now—oh boy—now it gets interesting.
Because waiting for them… are the New York Yankees.
“We’ll see you in the ALCS…” 😄

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Chicago Cubs: 2nd NLCS berth
1913 1940

“HOLY COW!!!” 😄
The Chicago Cubs are goin’ to the National League Championship Series!!! Can you believe it?! For just the second time in franchise history—and the first time in 27 years!!

Oh, and they didn’t just win this game…
They DEMOLISHED the San Francisco Giants!
14 to 4!!! FOURTEEN RUNS!!
That’s not a baseball score—that’s a football game, for cryin’ out loud!

Right from the get-go—BOOM!
Four runs in the first inning!
Triples flying all over the ballpark—
I mean, what is this, a track meet?!

Birgir Irving! Two triples!
Scott Evans! Two more triples!
Alex Lozano! He’s hittin’ triples like he’s ordering off a menu!

You get a triple! YOU get a triple! EVERYBODY gets a triple!!!

And Irving—oh baby!
Three hits, three runs, three RBIs…
Stealin’ bases, flyin’ around—he looked like he had a jetpack on out there!
No wonder he’s your Series MVP!

And how about Joe Nation?!
Starts it off with a double… later hits a HOME RUN!
Nine total bases!
That ball he hit in the eighth inning?
I don’t know where it landed—but I hope it had a passport!!!

Meanwhile, the Cubs just kept comin’…
Seven runs in the first two innings!
By the time the Giants sat down in the dugout, they’re probably sayin’,
“Hey… can we start this thing over?!”

Give a little credit to San Francisco Giants—they had some hits, a couple triples, even a homer…
But tonight?
Tonight belonged to the Cubs.

And how about Franklin Ramirez?
Not perfect—but good enough!
Gets the win, keeps things under control while the offense puts on a fireworks show behind him!
So here it is, folks…
The Chicago Cubs are movin’ on!
The NLCS awaits!

Will it be the Padres? Will it be the Marlins?

Who cares right now?!

The Cubs are rollin’!!!

“Cubs win! Cubs win! Cubs win!!!” 🎙️🔥

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