The Dodgers beat the Brewers by a final score of 5-1 on Friday night, securing a sweep of the NLCS and advancing to the World Series for the second consecutive year. If you just look at the scoreline and the sweep, you might think that this game was devoid of interest. I won’t lie to you – it was definitely not as dramatic as the wild Mariners-Blue Jays game from earlier in the night, and that series has had far more twists and turns than this one. But forget the lopsided final score, and forget the lopsided series. Friday night was a show – or, I should say, a Sho.

Shohei Ohtani made his second start on the mound of the playoffs, and after a leadoff walk to Brice Turang, he looked every bit the impossible, ace-plus-slugger hybrid we’ve come to expect. His stuff was sharp tonight, with his fastball scraping triple digits and his vicious sweeper up several ticks but maintaining its ludicrous movement. That leadoff walk didn’t even phase him; he took a deep breath, a few paces on the mound, and then turned Jackson Chourio into a cardboard cutout. Biting sweeper, two increasingly diving sliders, with Chourio taking an emergency hack to stay alive, and then a 100.3 mph fastball, pumped right through the zone, to remind everyone that, yeah, this Ohtani guy can spin it.

The next batter, Christian Yelich, got ahead in the count 2-0; Ohtani regrouped with an outrageous flotilla of sliders (90 mph), cutters (95), and fastballs (100) on the low-and-away corner that eventually flummoxed Yelich into a called strikeout. William Contreras? Thanks for entering the batter’s box, sir, better luck next time. Ohtani struck him out on three pitches, the last two of which were demonically breaking sweepers that weren’t even in the same zip code as Contreras’ bat. Then Ohtani sprinted off the mound and disappeared into the dugout. Read the rest of this entry »

This postseason, I’m continuing my use of a new format for our managerial report cards. In the past, I went through every game from every manager, whether they played 22 games en route to winning the World Series or got swept out of the Wild Card round. To be honest, I hated writing those brief blurbs. No one is all that interested in the manager who ran out the same lineup twice, or saw his starters get trounced and used his best relievers anyway because the series was so short. This year, I’m skipping the first round, and grading only the managers who survived until at least the best-of-five series. Earlier this week, I graded Aaron Boone and A.J. Hinch. Today, we’ll continue with the two managers who lost in the National League Divisional Series, Craig Counsell and Rob Thomson.

My goal is to evaluate each manager in terms of process, not results. If you bring in your best pitcher to face their best hitter in a huge spot, that’s a good decision regardless of the outcome. Try a triple steal with the bases loaded only to have the other team make four throwing errors to score three runs? I’m probably going to call that a blunder even though it worked out. Managers do plenty of other things — getting team buy-in for new strategies or unconventional bullpen usage behind closed doors is a skill I find particularly valuable — but as I have no insight into how that’s accomplished or how each manager differs, I can’t exactly assign grades for it.

I’m also purposefully avoiding vague qualitative concerns like “trusting your veterans because they’ve been there before.” Playoff coverage lovingly focuses on clutch plays by proven performers, but Cam Schlittler and Michael Busch were also great this October. Forget trusting your veterans; the playoffs are about trusting your best players. Cristopher Sánchez is important because he’s great, not because of the number of playoff series he’s appeared in. There’s nothing inherently good about having been around a long time; when I’m evaluating decisions, “but he’s a veteran” just doesn’t enter my thought process.

I’m always looking for new analytical wrinkles in critiquing managerial decisions. For instance, I’ve increasingly come to view pitching decisions as a tradeoff between protecting your best relievers from overexposure and minimizing your starters’ weakest matchups, which means that I’m grading managers on multiple axes in every game. I think that almost no pitching decision is a no-brainer these days; there are just too many competing priorities to make anything totally obvious. That means I’m going to be less certain in my evaluation of pitching than of hitting, but I’ll try to make my confidence level clear in each case. Let’s get to it. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m trying out a new format for our managerial report cards this postseason. In the past, I went through every game from every manager, whether they played 22 games en route to winning the World Series or got swept out of the wild card round. To be honest, I hated writing those brief blurbs. No one is all that interested in the manager who ran out the same lineup twice, or saw his starters get trounced and used his best relievers anyway because the series was so short. This year, I’m skipping the first round, and grading only the managers who survived until at least the best-of-five series. Today, we’ll start with the two managers who lost in the American League Divisional Series, Aaron Boone and A.J. Hinch.

My goal is to evaluate each manager in terms of process, not results. If you bring in your best pitcher to face their best hitter in a huge spot, that’s a good decision regardless of the outcome. Try a triple steal with the bases loaded only to have the other team make four throwing errors to score three runs? I’m probably going to call that a blunder even though it worked out. Managers do plenty of other things — getting team buy-in for new strategies or unconventional bullpen usage behind closed doors is a skill I find particularly valuable — but as I have no insight into how that’s accomplished or how each manager differs, I can’t exactly assign grades for it.

I’m also purposefully avoiding vague qualitative concerns like “trusting your veterans because they’ve been there before.” Playoff coverage lovingly focuses on clutch plays by proven performers, but Cam Schlittler and Michael Busch were also great this October. Forget trusting your veterans; the playoffs are about trusting your best players. Blake Snell is important because he’s great, not because of the number of playoff series he’s appeared in. There’s nothing inherently good about having been around a long time; when I’m evaluating decisions, “but he’s a veteran” just doesn’t enter my thought process.

I’m always looking for new analytical wrinkles in critiquing managerial decisions. I’m increasingly viewing pitching as a tradeoff between protecting your best relievers from overexposure and minimizing your starters’ weakest matchups, which means that I’m grading managers on multiple axes in every game. I think that almost no pitching decision is a no-brainer these days; there are just too many competing priorities to make anything totally obvious. That means I’m going to be less certain in my evaluation of pitching than of hitting, but I’ll try to make my confidence level clear in each case. Let’s get to it. Read the rest of this entry »

On Friday night in Seattle, Logan Gilbert was on the mound gutting out two scoreless innings of relief a mere two days after he’d won the third game of the American League Division Series. That performance was do or die; hold the Tigers scoreless or head home for winter. The entire Mariners team contributed to that 15-inning win, never mind any knock-on effects for the pitching staff. A few days after that, on Monday in Toronto, Gilbert tried to reprise his heroic, short-rest effort against a relentless Blue Jays offense in Game 2 of the American League Championship Series.

The Mariners couldn’t expect to get a peak Gilbert start, so their bats had to put up enough runs to outrun the ongoing effects of the massive workload its pitching staff shouldered late last week. The offense delivered plenty of scoring, and the pitchers more than held their own despite the circumstances. When it was all settled in a 10-3 Seattle win, the Mariners were just two wins away from their first World Series appearance in franchise history. Read the rest of this entry »

Man, am I tired of writing about the Dodgers and Phillies. I mean some of that narrowly – this is my second recap of these two financial juggernauts facing off in the past 24 hours, which means I’ve spent more time pondering these two teams than sleeping lately. I mostly mean it broadly, though. We get it, the Dodgers and Phillies are the best two teams in the NL every year. I hear you, they each have a slugging lefty DH who hit 50 homers and has a rabid following. It’s true, they have a former MVP lefty first baseman who departed his longtime NL East team and got a big sack of money for it. Oh, how original, a slight-of-stature righty shortstop who is a dynamic offensive player anyway. A slugging right-handed right fielder who honestly shouldn’t be playing defense? Yup. Endless stacks of pitchers? Sure thing, buddy, nothing but the best for these two.

Maybe it’s my lack of attachment to either team that makes me so tired of seeing them in October. Philadelphia’s “Oh, we’re a bunch of plucky underdogs” act? Exhausting. The Phillies have a $300 million payroll. Dodgers Baseball And Capital Appreciation Corporation employees executing carefully workshopped “dances” to simulate “fun” after base hits? No one’s buying it. But I don’t think it’s just the neutrals. My guess is that even fans of these clubs are sick of it at this point. Everything that annoys you about your opponent in this series is exactly what annoys the rest of us about your team. They even have obnoxious fanbases – not every fan, obviously, but come on, even Dodgers and Phillies partisans will agree with me on this one. Can’t we have someone else?

We can’t, of course. These teams have all the stars! Of course they’re always in the playoffs! And even more confusingly for me, you’re presumably here because you find this series interesting. If you just wanted to know the score, well, they publish those right away. So bear with me. The teams might be overexposed and easy to root against, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a good recap. Just follow Emperor Palpatine’s advice and let the hate flow through you. Read the rest of this entry »

Shutting down the Dodgers offense has been one of the toughest assignments in baseball this October. A series of great opposing pitchers, including Cy Young candidates aplenty, surrendered 27 runs in their first four playoff games. Sure, the Los Angeles pitching has been great too, but you can score on the Dodgers. The difficulty has been with stopping their unending procession of base-clearing prowess.

The Phillies seemed to be well suited to stopping the Dodgers, but that was before Los Angeles won the first two games in Philadelphia. Even worse, the Dodgers sent ace Yoshinobu Yamamoto to the mound, so limiting the offense figured to be even more important than normal. That’s too much work for one starter, so Rob Thomson turned to Aaron Nola and Ranger Suárez looking for a tandem performance. As it turned out, that decision was inspired. Along with two Schwarbombs, the Nola-Suárez piggyback propelled the Phillies to an 8-2 win at Dodger Stadium and postponed elimination for at least one more night.

Nola has had a rough year. He missed three months with injury, and looked much diminished when he did pitch en route to posting the worst single-season ERA (6.01) and FIP (4.58) marks of his long, decorated career. He wasn’t in this game for a long time, but he was in it for a good time. He came out absolutely jacked, with his velocity up two to three ticks and a snapping knuckle-curveball that hearkened back to his form of a few years ago. It didn’t click right away – Shohei Ohtani scorched a line drive for an out and then Mookie Betts tripled – but Nola buckled down, blew away Teoscar Hernández with a beautiful curve, and escaped the inning unscathed. He kept it going through a perfect second, perhaps as far as he was ever expected to go. Read the rest of this entry »

Some playoff games flow like beautiful novels. Two ace starters might have a duel – narratively satisfying. Maybe one pitcher is trying to hold off the opposing offense – who doesn’t like a siege story? Or, perhaps a superstar slugger is on an absolute tear – the great man theory of postseason baseball is alive and well. But Monday night, the Brewers and Cubs played a game that doesn’t fit any of those tropes. The Brewers bullpenned it. The Cubs answered with Shota Imanaga, who gave up 15 homers over his final nine regular season starts, on a short leash. The result? A disjointed game, which can best be captured by a disjointed recap.

Justin Turner, Leadoff Hitter

Justin Turner doesn’t hit leadoff. In his lengthy major league career, he’s racked up exactly 69 plate appearances in the leadoff spot, and only one in the past decade. He’s never hit leadoff in the playoffs. He was well below average at the plate this year – a 71 wRC+ and negative WAR. Naturally, he hit leadoff in the most important game of the Cubs season so far.

Why? Because Chicago manager Craig Counsell is no dummy. The Brewers started Aaron Ashby, who astute observers will note pitched in Saturday’s Game 1. Ashby was just in there as an opener, a southpaw option against Kyle Tucker and the rest of the Cubs lefty contingent. Counsell’s counter-move was straightforward. The other guy starts with a lefty reliever? He’ll start with a lefty-killing righty as more or less a pinch-hitter.

The move didn’t pan out right away; Turner flied out softly to open the game. But the rest of the Chicago lineup immediately went to work – single, walk, massive home run from Seiya Suzuki. It was 3-0 in a blink. Brewers manager Pat Murphy tried to stretch Ashby through a second inning even after the setback, but it just wasn’t happening. Ashby needed 43 pitches just to get through 10 hitters. That’s right, 10 – his last batter was Turner a second time, and Turner flared an easy single to left to chase Ashby. Counsell’s gambit worked to perfection; he somehow got two straight good platoon matchups for Turner in a series where high-octane righties abound.

Bombs Away

Imanaga ended the year in poor form. All those homers ballooned his September ERA to a nasty 6.51. His 6.68 FIP was somehow worse. He appeared against San Diego in the opening round of the playoffs, as a bulk innings option behind opener Andrew Kittredge, and gave up another blast en route to an uneven appearance (four innings, three strikeouts, two walks, one homer, two earned runs). But what was Counsell going to do, not start him?

The Brewers aren’t necessarily a home run-hitting team, but they’re open to the idea if invited. Imanaga’s arsenal is nothing if not inviting; after a pair of two-out singles, Andrew Vaughn turned on a belt-high sweeper and tucked it into the left field stands. It was 3-3 before we left the first inning, but it wouldn’t stay that way long. When the top of the order came up again in the third inning, Willson Contreras demolished a 91-mph fastball to put Milwaukee on top 4-3. Christian Yelich followed with a hard-hit single, and Counsell had seen enough. He went to the pen after 46 pitches and eight outs.

The Miz!

Jacob Misiorowski must eat sugary cereal for breakfast. I say that because I know how I act after I’ve had a bowl of Frosted Flakes, and he was exhibiting similar symptoms when Murphy turned to him to start the third inning. Think his fastball is fearsome at its usual 101 miles an hour? It’s downright terrifying when he ramps it up to 104, as he repeatedly did in his first inning of work.

Misiorowski is pretty much unhittable when he’s on. In the third, he tallied two weak groundouts, an overpowering strikeout – and a four-pitch walk. The second of the groundouts ended the inning, but also showed Misiorowski’s mindset. After fielding it cleanly, he ran to first base himself on a full sprint, perhaps a little too amped up to trust himself with an underhand toss. Then he flexed and roared, exulting in the playoff atmosphere.

The next inning brought more of the same – an amped-up Miz, two strikeouts, and a five-pitch walk where he got increasingly wild with each pitch. Oh yeah, the last of those batters was Michael Busch, in the game for Turner now that the leadoff spot came up with a righty on the mound. Again, though, you don’t so much beat Misiorowski when he’s this keyed up as wait him out. Nico Hoerner finally tallied a hit against him in the fifth, an opposite-field line drive, but there’s just no headway to be had when you’re trying to time up 103-mph fastballs and 95-mph sliders. The other three Cubs that inning managed a strikeout and two weak foul pops.

When Misiorowski finally departed at the start of the sixth, the Brewers led comfortably. The Cubs never looked particularly close to stringing anything together against him. I’m not sure how long he’ll be able to go in his next October appearance, or how many days of rest the Brewers will want to give him after 57 adrenaline-pumping pitches. I am confident that it’s going to be electric to watch, and that the Cubs are desperately hoping that they can somehow pull off a reverse sweep in this series without having to face any more 104-mph heaters. What a performance.

Action Jackson

Jackson Chourio missed almost the entirety of August with a hamstring strain. He looked less explosive upon his return, with less power and a less-adventurous approach to baserunning. Then he aggravated the injury in the first game of this series, putting his availability for Monday night in at least a bit of doubt. His first two at-bats produced two outs against the otherwise reeling Imanaga. His third time up? A towering, 419-foot homer to dead center that put the Brewers up 7-3 in the fourth inning.

Is Chourio back? It depends on how you’d define back. He’s still limping around at times, and it’s clear that the hamstring is bothering him. He bumped into Busch while rounding first base on a sixth-inning play and looked meaningfully slower as he continued to second (speed wasn’t an issue; Dansby Swanson had just sailed a throw into foul territory and there was little chance of a play at the base). But on the other hand, he’s blasting huge home runs and making nifty plays in foul territory, where he turned a foul ball into an out with a smooth, wall-scraping grab. I don’t think he’s at full strength, but he’s still a dangerous hitter, and even if his baserunning prowess is down, the Brewers will happily keep running him out there.

We’ve Got Ice

Caleb Durbin’s batting line in this game doesn’t look particularly impressive. He recorded no hits or walks. He hit into a double play. But in that fateful fourth inning, he saw a Daniel Palencia fastball headed in his general direction and heroically tossed his elbow at it. He caught the ball as flush as you can imagine, a direct hit on his arm, one of those “act like you’re getting out of the way but make sure to do the opposite” moves that grind-and-grit hitters have been using to accrue free bases since time immemorial.

It’s no accident that Durbin led the NL with 24 hit-by-pitches this year, only three off the major league lead. It’s more impressive than that, even; Durbin did it in 506 plate appearances, while leader Randy Arozarena needed 709 to get to 27 HBPs. You might not like this skill, but it’s real, and Durbin is the best in the majors at it right now.

Those free bases don’t always matter. This time, they did. Durbin’s spot in the lineup produced a baserunner instead of an out, which means that when Blake Perkins struck out immediately afterwards, there were two outs instead of three. That meant more pitches for Palencia, and also that Joey Ortiz’s line drive single turned the lineup over. You’ve already read what happened next – Chourio hit the ball to Wauwatosa (a wonderful suburb of Milwaukee, I promise) and gave the Brewers an insurmountable lead.

Lockdown

The Cubs offense might have gone quiet against Misiorowski, but there was still time left. They had 12 outs to play with after Milwaukee’s scariest arm departed, but they couldn’t do anything with them, because the guys behind the Miz are pretty good too. Chad Patrick struck out two Cubs in a perfect sixth. Jared Koenig followed with four straight outs, with huge assistance from Vaughn, who made a nifty play in foul territory behind first base to turn a would-be infield single into an out. All of the sudden, there were only five outs to play with, and Milwaukee hadn’t even gone to its late-inning options.

Even a one-run deficit feels almost insurmountable against the Brewers by the time the eighth inning rolls around. Trevor Megill and Abner Uribe were both spectacular this year, with matchingly gaudy ERAs and strikeout rates. Megill’s health was a question heading into Game 2; his first appearance back from a flexor strain was the regular season finale, and he didn’t appear in the first game of this series. His stuff looked slightly diminished – slower fastball, less-biting curve – but stuff has never really been Megill’s problem. The little stuff heatmaps on our player pages? They don’t get darker red than Megill’s. He looked plenty nasty even sitting down a tick, and he pounded the strike zone with plus command. Good luck, hitters.

No one knew how good Megill would be Monday. There was no such doubt about Uribe’s form. He started 2025 strong and got stronger as the year wore on, blowing lineups away with his trademark sinker/slider duo while halving his walk rate. The Cubs were just the latest victims as he struck out the side on 13 pitches, retiring each batter with a scintillating slider below the strike zone. The Brewers didn’t need a lockdown performance from their bullpen, but with a travel day Tuesday, there was no reason to leave anything to chance; Murphy put the hammer down consistently as soon as he had a lead.

Conclusions

Don’t let the early innings fool you; the Brewers absolutely torched the Cubs today. They were constantly on base, threatening to score in nearly every inning, and only let off the gas at the very end. How in the world are you going to score seven runs against their bullpen? This one wasn’t as close as the not-very-close scoreline. Even before Chourio put things away, the Cubs didn’t seem particularly likely to put anything together against Milwaukee’s endless parade of strong relievers.

I don’t know if a bullpen game is helpful to Milwaukee’s long-term chances, but it’s pretty hard to argue with its effectiveness on a single night. Toss an in-form Misiorowski into the mix, and there just isn’t much time to score runs before the door closes. Even with the nifty Turner-leadoff gambit, the Cubs ended up with a lot of tough matchups against a lot of excellent pitchers. I can imagine a seven-game series blunting the effectiveness of the strategy, and the Brewers will probably tinker with their roster ahead of a potential championship series, but this is a really strong run prevention plan. They might be able to make the entire series out of pitching from Freddy Peralta, a to-be-announced starter (Jose Quintana or Quinn Priester), and a dominant bullpen.

On Chicago’s side, there’s not a ton of strategy to discuss; the Cubs just need to score some runs, and also to give up fewer of them. There weren’t a ton of interesting situations where a different decision might have sent us down a different path, no spots where a pivotal play could have gone Chicago’s way. The Cubs seized on their big chance with a three-run first. It just wasn’t enough. That doesn’t mean that the rest of the series will go the same way – as they always say, momentum is tomorrow’s starting pitcher – but so far, the Brewers have been thoroughly outclassing the Cubs.

The key decision point in Saturday night’s Mariners-Tigers game came in the fifth inning, when manager Dan Wilson left righty George Kirby in the game to face a dangerous lefty, a third time through, with a runner on base. Kerry Carpenter smacked a 400-foot homer, erasing a Seattle lead, and the Tigers won 3-2 in 11 innings. So on Sunday, when righty Luis Castillo found himself in a similar pickle, Wilson found himself in a bind of his own.

The situation: a Gleyber Torres single put runners on first and third with two outs in the fifth inning. The next batter? None other than Carpenter. For the second straight day, the Mariners held a 1-0 lead, and this time, further runs didn’t feel likely, not with Tarik Skubal on the mound. Castillo had bobbed and weaved his way through the Tigers lineup two straight times, but he’d thrown 85 pitches to do so, scattering four walks and that Torres hit through his 4 2/3 innings.

This was no easy decision. Each choice had several points in its favor, but several downsides as well. Why pull Castillo? The situation greatly disfavored him. He’s far better against righties than lefties, and his platoon splits have only increased since he moved to Seattle and started weaning the changeup out of his arsenal. Even worse, Carpenter was up for a third time and had already seen 10 pitches from Castillo, including everything in his arsenal. Carpenter himself has huge platoon splits; in his career, he’s faced righties six times as often as lefties, with a 138 wRC+ against righties and a 69 wRC+ against lefties. Gabe Speier, Seattle’s middle-inning lefty of choice, is outstanding against lefties, and generally just outstanding overall. Finally, Castillo didn’t have his best stuff, and certainly didn’t have his best command. A change would meaningfully improve the matchup for Seattle, in the biggest spot of the game. Read the rest of this entry »

On Wednesday afternoon, I briefly thought that A.J. Hinch had lost his mind. I really don’t know how else to explain it. With runners on the corners and one out in the top of the seventh inning of Game 2 of the Wild Card Series between the Tigers and the Guardians — which Cleveland won, 6-1 — Detroit had Riley Greene, its best hitter, at the plate with a chance to break a 1-1 tie. The Guardians went to the bullpen, bringing in lefty Tim Herrin. Herrin, a 6-foot-6 curveball specialist, figured to be a tough matchup for Greene; he’s been lights out against same-handed batters throughout his career. But then Hinch made a surprising call to the bench. He pulled Greene back and pinch-hit with Jahmai Jones – and now here I am writing this article.

Jones had one key thing going for him here: Like Inigo Montoya, he is not left-handed. He’s also hit lefties much better than righties in his brief major league career, and in his minor league career, too. Greene, on the other hand, is a poor left-on-left hitter. So you can at least see where Hinch’s decision was coming from. I want to give this kind of shocking decision the full consideration it deserves before just laughing it out of the building – after all, what if it was the right call? So let’s do all the math to get an idea of what Hinch was giving up, and what he was getting.

To model pitcher-against-batter outcomes, I first took projections for both players, the granular ones that consider specific outcomes. I also calculated platoon splits for each player by taking their observed career splits and regressing them toward league average based on sample size. I put those two projections – hitter and pitcher – into a modified log5 formula and used it to predict the likelihood of each possible outcome of a plate appearance. Then I applied those outcomes to the game state when Greene’s spot came up in the lineup.

That’s a lot of explanation jammed into one paragraph, so I think an example is in order. Let’s say that the Jones-Herrin confrontation results in a single 25% of the time, a deep fly ball 25% of the time, a strikeout 25% of the time, and a walk 25% of the time. Those are nowhere near reasonable, of course, but just an example. A single would mean runners on first and second (at least) and a 2-1 lead, for a win probability of 73.4%. A deep sacrifice fly? That would get the Tigers to 66.6%. A strikeout? 50.1%. Walk? 65.7%. Average those four probabilities, and the Tigers come out with a 64% chance of winning the game. There are more than four possible outcomes, of course, but this process is how I turn outcomes into win probabilities. Read the rest of this entry »

The noble tiger is a rare beast, but Wednesday night, there was a sighting in Los Angeles. A NOBLETIGER, for those of you who are perhaps less online than I am, is a contrived but delightful acronym: No Outs Bases Loaded Ending in Team Incapable of Getting Easy Run. In other words, it’s a team going from bases loaded and nobody out to a scoreless inning, and Cincinnati’s feline accomplishment felt like the last moment before it was washed away by the crushing tide of Los Angeleno excellence.

The Reds started Game 2 of their Wild Card Series against the Dodgers with a burst of energy. A hit-by-pitch, a fielding error, a slashed groundball single, and suddenly the underdogs were up 2-0 on the indomitable Yoshinobu Yamamoto. They struggled to find much more traction against him for the next three innings, nine up and nine down, but those initial two runs gave them a bulwark against the perpetual Dodger onslaught on the other side of the field.

Zack Littell, Yamamoto’s counterpart, wasn’t quite as sharp, but he held the Dodgers at bay with smoke and mirrors for three innings. In the fourth, the constant pressure became too much; the bottom half of the Dodgers order struck for two runs, putting them up 3-2, and the Reds called in Nick Lodolo from the bullpen to escape the inning. After the teams exchanged scoreless frames in the fifth, the stage was set for our fateful inning.
Read the rest of this entry »