Let me be very clear: This doesn’t matter. What I’m about to show you is small sample size theater. It’s not statistically significant. It has no bearing on what’s actually going to happen in the World Series. We are here for a fun fact rather than a learning opportunity. Are we all in agreement? Okay, then let me show you something wild. Here are Aaron Judge’s career numbers against the Los Angeles Dodgers.

So, uh, yeah. A .389 batting average is good. A slugging percentage in the thousands is good. A wRC+ over 300 is also good. Just in case you were wondering how good those numbers are, here’s a table that shows the best career numbers against the Dodgers, minimum 40 plate appearances, courtesy of our splits leaderboard. Read the rest of this entry »

You are allowed to be sad. You do not have to be psyched about watching two gigantic legacy franchises smash everything in their paths and then start smashing each other in the Godzilla vs. King Kong World Series. You can be bummed that both of the obvious favorites made the World Series even though you also would have been bummed if some undeserving Wild Card team had sneaked in. Anyone who expects you to be rational in your rooting interests is being completely unreasonable. This a matchup designed specifically for fans of hegemony. You do not have to be good. You are allowed to cheer for Team Asteroid.

That said, there’s still a lot to be excited about in this matchup. The World Series offers itself to your imagination. I doubt that there’s one person reading this who doesn’t enjoy watching Aaron Judge, Shohei Ohtani, Mookie Betts, Juan Soto, or Freddie Freeman play baseball, who doesn’t thrill at the thought of seeing them on the biggest stage the game has to offer. It’s just inconceivable that a baseball fan could be so hopelessly lost.

Judge hit 58 home runs this season. He led baseball with a 218 wRC+. That’s the seventh-best qualified offensive season since 1900. The only players who have topped it: Barry Bonds, Babe Ruth, and Ted Williams. Judge is blasting his way onto Mount Rushmore in front of our eyes. Ohtani’s 181 wRC+ ranked second. While rehabbing from Tommy John surgery, he put up the first 50-50 season in history. When you combine his offense and baserunning, Ohtani was worth 80.7 runs this season, the 35th-highest total ever. Over 11 postseason games, he has a .434 on-base percentage with 10 RBI and 12 runs scored, and somehow his offensive line is worse than it was during the regular season. Soto was right behind Ohtani at 180. In seven big-league seasons, he’s never once been as low as 40% better than average at the plate, and he is still getting better. Read the rest of this entry »

Hunter Gaddis didn’t want to throw Juan Soto a fastball. With two on and two out in the top of the 10th inning, Gaddis started the fearsome slugger with three sliders in a row: one for a ball, one for a called strike, and one for a foul ball. Behind in the count now, Soto fouled off two changeups and then another slider. This was supposed to work. Opponents batted .135 against the two pitches this season. They whiffed 30% of the time. Gaddis had clipped the edges of the zone with the nastiest stuff he could muster — some of the nastiest stuff in the game — and Soto simply refused to be beaten. Six soft pitches in a row, and Soto was hanging back and spoiling them at the last possible moment. Surely Gaddis could get away with one fastball, right? Right?

Asked after the game about his mindset during the at-bat, Soto said, “I was just saying to myself, ‘You’re all over that guy.’” Gaddis finally threw a fastball. Soto was all over it.

The four-seamer left Gaddis’ hand at 95.2 mph. It left Soto’s bat at 109.7. Soto didn’t leave the batter’s box at all. He watched as the high, arcing blast traveled 402 feet into the Cleveland night and center fielder Lane Thomas, head craned upward, drifted slowly back to the warning track. By the time Thomas had run out of real estate and the ball had landed safely in the standing room section just past the wall, Soto still hadn’t reached first base.

The blast gave the Yankees a 5-2 lead in Game 5 of the American League Championship Series and propelled them to their first World Series since 2009. The 15-year hiatus matches the gap between New York’s 1981 and 1996 appearances, the franchise’s longest stretch away from the Series since it first reached it in 1921. Asked what was going through his mind when Soto hit the go-ahead home run, general manager Brian Cashman said, “I was thanking God.”

New York’s 4-1 series victory belies a tight and thrilling series that featured multiple extra-inning games, riveting reversals, likely heroes, and extremely unlikely goats. For the third straight game, the Yankees and Guardians were tied during the ninth inning. For the second straight game, the Yankees scored the winning runs off Cleveland’s untouchable high-leverage relievers. The vaunted Guardians bullpen, asked to pitch 28 innings over five games, actually ran a slightly better ERA than New York’s relievers, but Cleveland simply needed more from them. As has so often been the case, the Guardians always looked to be a couple solid bats short.

With Tanner Bibee starting on three days’ rest, the Yankees threatened from the very beginning. Gleyber Torres started the game with a single through the right side, then Soto ripped a low liner into the right field gap and all the way to the wall. Third base coach Luis Rojas waved Torres around third, but a perfect relay from Jhonkensy Noel and Andrés Giménez nabbed him just inches before he was able to slide his left hand across the plate. Giménez’s 94-mph laser was on the money, without a hop.

It took an incredible relay to foil the gutsy send, but two batters into the game, it was still a questionable decision. Instead of second and third with no outs, the Yankees had Soto on second with one out. Bibee hit both Aaron Judge and Jazz Chisholm Jr. to load the bases, but managed to escape the inning unscathed. Just when it looked like the Yankees might run away with things and get to the overtaxed Cleveland bullpen early, Bibee settled down. He retired the next 10 Yankees in order and faced the minimum over the next four innings, consistently inducing chases on changeups and breaking pitches below the zone.

During the first inning, Carlos Rodón looked every bit as sharp as he had in Game 1, striking out two and retiring the side in order. He started the second inning with a strikeout as well, but the Naylor family slowed his roll. Josh Naylor tapped a grounder off the end of the bat to the abandoned left side of the infield, and the charging Chisholm had no shot at catching him at first base. Rodón struck out Noel to notch the second out, then Bo Naylor worked what would’ve been the at-bat of the game if not for what happened later. He pulled the 10th pitch he saw down the right field line for a line drive double. As Alex Speier noted, it was the first time a lefty had hit an extra-base hit off Rodón since July 28. More importantly, with a full count and two outs, Josh Naylor was running on the pitch, allowing him to score easily. Rodón still looked excellent, but after two Naylor hits and zero hard-hit balls, Cleveland led, 1-0.

The Guardians added an insurance run in the fifth inning, when Gimenéz shot a one-out double down the third base line and Steven Kwan singled him home two batters later. David Fry reached out and broke his bat on a changeup, lifting a popup into shallow left center. Judge, Alex Verdugo, and Anthony Volpe converged on the perfectly placed ball, which went in and out of the diving Judge’s glove. Verdugo tried to hurdle Judge, but somehow he didn’t actually leave the ground and was lucky not to injure the prostrate behemoth. Kwan, who had to wait and make sure the ball wasn’t caught, advanced to third, while Fry reached second with a double. Rodón’s reward for obliterating Fry’s bat on a ball that Statcast gave a 90% catch probability was a trip to the showers. He allowed five hits and two runs over 4 2/3 innings, striking out six and walking one. Four of the five hits came off the bats of Cleveland’s left-handed hitters. Rodón wouldn’t be in line for the loss for very long.

Bibee came out to pitch the top of the sixth, which also meant facing the top of the New York lineup for the third time. At the very least, we have to acknowledge that manager Stephen Vogt didn’t have an easy decision in front of him. The Guardians used nine total pitchers in Games 3 and 4 on Thursday and Friday, seven in each game. Five of them appeared in both games, including the team’s big four of Cade Smith, Tim Herrin, Emmanuel Clase, and Gaddis. The options were to leave in the cruising Bibee, to bring in an excellent but possibly gassed reliever for the third straight game, or to bring in a fresher but worse reliever. Vogt chose door number one, and while the call was defensible, well, we talk about the third time through the order penalty for a reason.

Torres reached out and yanked a soft liner over the third baseman for a single, and Soto ripped a more convincing single right back through the box. With runners on first and second, Judge sent a ball right to short for an easy 6-4-3 double play. That prompted a visit from the training staff, which seemed to be a fairly transparent ploy to buy Cade Smith some extra time to warm up, except Smith didn’t come in.

With Giancarlo Stanton at the plate, Bibee looked appropriately scared; he had no intention of attacking Stanton in the zone, even after he got the red-hot slugger to chase his first two pitches, a slider away and a changeup low. Bibee stuck with that approach and tried to tempt the hulking hitter with three soft pitches off the plate, but all three of them missed the zone by too much, and Stanton laid off. For the 3-2 pitch, Naylor set the target a solid 18 inches outside, but Bibee missed in a far worse spot, spinning a slider right over the middle and slightly down. Stanton did what Stanton does, shooting an absolute missile into the left field stands. The line drive left the bat at 117.5 mph and had a projected distance of 446 feet.

If you’re keeping score at home, on Bibee’s third time through the Yankees lineup, he faced four batters and allowed three hard-hit balls, two runs, and one lead. The game was knotted at two.

Vogt brought in Smith, who struck out Chisholm to end the inning. With the seal broken, the score tied, and his season in the balance, Vogt unleashed the rest of the big four. Despite pitching for the third day in a row, the quartet was effective. Smith got the first out of the seventh inning, then allowed a single, and Herrin finished the inning and pitched a perfect eighth. Clase worked a scoreless ninth, and Gaddis worked the fateful 10th. After Volpe lined out weakly to short to lead off the inning, Gaddis walked Austin Wells, then induced a groundball to second base from Verdugo. It was hit a bit too softly to get the double play, but in an attempt to get both outs anyway, Brayan Rocchio rushed through his part of the turn and botched the play altogether. Giménez’s feed clanked off the top of Rocchio’s glove, then bounced harmlessly to the turf. Everyone was safe.

Gaddis struck out Torres, bringing Soto to the plate. “He’s gonna do it,” said Chisholm after the game. “That’s the only thing going through my mind: He’s gonna do it.” None of the three runs Soto drove in was earned.

In the visitor’s dugout, Aaron Boone had the luxury of managing with the knowledge that his back wasn’t against the wall, and it allowed him to choose door number three. Fourteen relievers threw at least 10 relief innings for the Yankees this season. Among those 14, not one of Mark Leiter Jr., Tim Hill, or Jake Cousins – the first four out of the bullpen on Saturday – ranked higher than seventh in terms of leverage index when entering the game. The three combined for 3 1/3 scoreless innings, walking four Guardians but allowing just one hit. Boone finally called on Luke Weaver to pitch the ninth and 10th innings, and the slight star allowed just one hit before ending Cleveland’s season on a lazy fly ball that landed in the glove of – who else? – Juan Soto.

Stanton, who took home ALCS MVP honors, had four hits in the series, all of them home runs. In Game 5, Soto went 3-for-5 with four hard-hit balls, including a double and the series-winning homer, and raised his OPS in the series from 1.159 to 1.373. When asked why he was so sure Soto would deliver, Chisholm said simply, “Because it’s Juan Soto. Pay my guy! Pay Juan Soto!” The World Series starts on Friday, Soto’s 26th birthday.

This is the Carlos Rodón the Yankees thought they were getting. When Brian Cashman inked the lefty to a six-year, $162-million contract in December 2022, Rodón was coming off a two-season stretch in which he’d gone 27-13 with a 2.67 ERA, 2.42 FIP, and 12.23 strikeouts per nine innings. From 2021 to 2022, his 11.2 WAR ranked the third among all pitchers. But, like Samson of old, Rodón’s strength deserted him when his beard fell victim to the Yankees’ facial-hair policy. A forearm strain and a hamstring issue limited him to 14 starts in 2023, and when he did take the hill, he ran an unsightly 6.85 ERA. He was better this season, but he was by no means the ace the Bronx faithful were expecting.

That guy finally showed up on Monday night. Rodón powered the Yankees to a 5-2 victory over the Guardians in Game 1 of the American League Championship Series, going six dominant innings and allowing one earned run on a solo homer. He blew his fastball by the Guardians and tempted them over and over again into chasing his slider as it burrowed into the dirt. Read the rest of this entry »

Do you have a favorite flavor of baseball? Maybe you enjoy a crisp, clean pitching duel, or maybe you prefer the luxurious mouthfeel of a decadent slugfest. But if what your tastebuds really crave is yelling – the sharp, mouth-puckering tartness of unbridled emotion and constant, heartfelt screaming audible through the on-field microphones – then Game 3 of the National League Divisional Series between the Dodgers and Padres was the contest for you. The San Diego fans screamed pretty much all game long and the players screamed whenever anything big happened, which is to say often.

With the series tied at one coming into the game, drama was the watchword of the day. The Padres had roasted the Dodgers, 10-2, in Game 2 on Sunday. The fans threw things at the San Diego players. Manny Machado threw a ball into the Los Angeles dugout. Dave Roberts asked the league office to investigate the throw, which, he said, was directed at him with “something behind it.” When Zapruder-esque video of the toss surfaced online, that something was revealed to be petulant but ultimately harmless. Tensions were high enough that before the game, the Padres released a statement reminding their fans that throwing things at the Dodgers is frowned upon. So rather than throw, the fans just screamed. For hours.

The game featured plenty of action, all of it stuffed into the span of one inning. The teams combined for 10 runs in the bottom of the second and the top of the third, and then, when it looked like the onslaught might never stop, the bats went cold and the game turned into a one-run nailbiter headlined by unhittable bullpens. If you had Walker Buehler surrendering six runs on your bingo card, congratulations on having a bingo card full of extremely probable outcomes. If you had him getting through five innings, then you lucked out. But if you somehow had both of those outcomes, you should probably upgrade from bingo to the Mega Millions, because fortune is smiling upon you. Meanwhile, the Padres started Michael King, who ran a 2.95 ERA this season and threw seven scoreless innings in Game 1 of the Wild Card Series. What looked for all the world like the world’s most lopsided pitching matchup ended up as very nearly a draw.

In the end, the Padres pulled out a 6-5 victory, and they now have a chance to end the Dodgers’ season on Wednesday night. If they do, it will mark the third straight time that the Dodgers have won the division but failed to make it to the League Championship Series. Read the rest of this entry »

They played nine innings in Cleveland on Saturday afternoon. They really did, a whole baseball game’s worth of innings, but Game 1 of the American League Divisional Series between the Detroit Tigers and the Cleveland Guardians was decided long before all that. The game wasn’t just over after the first inning; it was over before the Tigers had so much as pitched a third of a frame. It’s one of baseball’s quirks that we measure pitching performance in innings pitched, which is to say by the number of outs recorded. There are plenty of stats that make more sense if we use total batters faced as the denominator, and that’s before you think about the occasional outing in which the pitcher doesn’t record an out. Dividing by zero doesn’t really work, and on Saturday, no one was more acutely aware of that bleak mathematical reality than Tyler Holton, Detroit’s starter (or opener, or — maybe more accurately — sacrificial lamb), who had the first no-out outing of his short career.

Last week, A.J. Hinch described his pitching strategy as “Tarik Skubal tomorrow and pitching chaos the rest of the way.” With Skubal lined up to start Game 2, Saturday was a day for chaos. Holton ran a 2.19 ERA over 93 1/3 innings this season, putting up 1.4 WAR. He gave up just five total runs in the second half, and not all of them were earned. But his name didn’t even appear in Jake Mailhot’s series preview. I point that out not to malign Jake, but to emphasize the sheer volume of excellent Tigers relievers that both we and the Guardians need to keep track of in this series. There were so many that Detroit’s Game 1 starter (or opener, or losing pitcher) didn’t even rate a sentence.

One of the more depressing things about chaos theory is that it’s almost entirely devoted to explaining that what looks like chaos is actually just complexity. So much of the randomness, disorder, and inexplicability that we humans find so compelling can actually be explained in mathematical terms that make us want to repeatedly bang our foreheads against the nearest school desk. It’s all about understanding the initial conditions so that you can see how each action affected the system as a whole.

The initial conditions in Cleveland were lovely. It was bright and sunny, 68 degrees at game time. In Tanner Bibee, the Guardians had their ace on the mound, well rested and coming off a September in which he ran a 2.64 ERA. The last time he didn’t leave a game with more strikeouts than innings pitched was August 11. The Tigers, with Skubal lined up to pitch in Game 2 and 5, were starting out with house money. Hinch could organize his chaos just how he liked, and for the second game in a row, he led off with Holton.

Bibee had some ugly misses in the top of the first, letting his fastball sail way above the zone and to his arm side. It could have been nerves, but either way, he was able to locate his slider in the zone. Still, after he struck out Parker Meadows swinging on a changeup, Kerry Carpenter stayed back on a curveball and drove it up the middle for a line drive single, and for a moment it looked like Bibee’s wildness might end up costing Cleveland. Matt Vierling hit a soft chopper to second base for a fielder’s choice, moving Meadows to second, then Bibee hit Riley Greene in the front foot with a curveball, prompting an early mound visit from pitching coach Carl Willis and a brief infield huddle. Whatever Willis said worked just fine. Colt Keith lined out to left field to end the top of the first. It was the last time the Guardians would have anything to worry about.

In the bottom of the inning, Holton started Steven Kwan with sinker off the plate outside. That would be the high point of the day for the Tigers; a 1-0 count on Steven Kwan was as good as it got, the initial condition from which all ensuing calamities cascaded. Kwan ripped Holton’s second pitch, a sinker off the plate inside, off the top of the right field wall for a double, missing a homer by a foot or so. David Fry took Holton to a full count, then fouled off a cutter and a changeup before earning a walk.

With no outs and runners on first and second, superstar José Ramírez came to the plate. Things couldn’t have looked better for Cleveland, but their luck would only improve. Ramírez chopped the ball down the third base line, and the topspin seemed to confuse Zach McKinstry. What looked like a high but routine bounce completely flummoxed him. He just kind of whiffed on it, so handcuffed that he never made a real attempt to catch the ball or even get in front of it. Kwan came around to score on the error, and the Guardians had runners on second and third with no outs.

The Tigers brought their infield in, and their luck didn’t change. The left-handed Josh Naylor rolled over a sweeper, slipping a soft grounder neatly between the first and second basemen to score Fry. That was the end of Holton’s day. He threw 20 pitches and surrendered one hard-hit ball. He allowed three hits, one walk, and one batter to reach on an error. He did not retire a batter.

For the first time all year, Reese Olson entered the game as a reliever instead of a starter. Olson didn’t have Holton’s season, but he still managed a 3.53 ERA and 3.17 FIP over 22 starts, racking up 2.4 WAR in the process. The first postseason pitch of his career was a slider. It was also the first postseason pitch of Lane Thomas’s career. It brings me no joy to report that for the next few days, you will necessarily be hearing the phrase “Lane Train” more often than you would like to hear it, which – and I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here – is exactly zero times. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Thomas was sitting slider. He demolished the pitch, launching it 394 feet into left field to make it 5-0.

Remember, the Tigers had yet to record an out at this point. Four of those five runs belonged to Holton, making his ERA for the game four divided by zero times nine.

Olson eventually made his way out of the inning, and then a bunch of people started singing about colon cancer screenings. One of their neighbors was wielding hedge trimmers. He was finishing off a topiary of an anthropomorphic box in which you can mail a stool sample to the company that made the people start singing about their colons. The real CGI box just kind of stood there next to its horticultural doppelgänger, seemingly not at all surprised to be looking into its own eyes, only in the form of a bush. Somehow, it felt of a piece with the baseball that preceded it.

After that, Olson settled down beautifully. He pitched five innings, allowing just two more hits and a walk. Ty Madden would relieve him in the sixth, surrendering two more runs to make it 7-0 Guardians. That’s how the game would end. Despite a few more ugly misses in the early innings, Bibee would cruise through 4 1/3, surrendering just four hits and a walk while striking out six Tigers.

All season, Cleveland’s bullpen has been the opposite of chaos. Stephen Vogt’s crew has been running like clockwork, and that continued in Game 1. Cade Smith followed Bibee, striking out all four batters he faced. Tim Herrin struck out two more in the seventh, Hunter Gaddis worked a clean eighth, and Emmanuel Clase needed just eight pitches to shut the door in the ninth, giving the Guardians the victory and a 1-0 lead in the series.

You could argue that the Tigers needed this game much less than the Guardians. They’ve got Skubal going in Game 2, and he’s lined up for Game 5. They came into the game wanting to win, sure, but also thinking that they’d be happy to steal just one of out of their three potential chaos contests. However, after seeing how that went, the Tigers must be discouraged. Save for one pitch, they wasted a brilliant bulk-relief appearance from Olson, and their offense mustered just four hits while striking out 13 times. If chaos really is just unpredictability that can be unraveled if you math hard enough based on how things start, Detroit might need a new plan.

Just before the top of the ninth, with the Astros trailing the Tigers, 5-2, in the second game of the AL Wild Card series, something caught my eye. Several somethings, actually. Will Vest, who despite his more than 200 career appearances has just five saves, was taking a moment on the back of the mound to rub the baseball and breathe. The low third base camera found him, and it was hard to differentiate between the routine, meditative acts that Vest always uses to calm himself before an appearance, and the twitches and tics that might only be surfacing now, during the biggest moment of his career.

When Vest determined that the ball had been sufficiently rubbed, he put his glove back on and tossed the ball into it. He adjusted the left shoulder of his jersey, then his hat, then the right shoulder. He rubbed his fingertips against his thumb and his palm to disperse the sweat, and then rubbed his whole hand against his pants leg. He took shallow breaths as he gently worked his foot into the dirt in front of the rubber. He dumped the ball from his glove back into his pitching hand, then pressed it against his right hip in order to wedge it securely into a changeup grip. He brought his glove to his belly and briefly touched the back of his hand to his butt before nesting it in his glove. He came set, then lifted his left leg ever so slightly and came set again.

I didn’t catch all that the first time; my attention was focused on the background. Those several somethings were flickering in gold, setting off tiny lens flares all around the screen, but because Vest was the hero of the shot, they were out of focus and blurred. I puzzled over what they might be, wondering at first whether the Houston fans were shining their cell phone flashlights, holding some sort of vigil for the team’s flatlining season. It took me a moment to remember the King Tuck crowns. Read the rest of this entry »

One of the fun things about the new Wild Card format is that after the first day, every game is an elimination game. On Wednesday, all four games could have ended with one team heading home and one team punching its ticket for the next round. Three of them ended that way, and the one game left on the docket Thursday will end that way too, after the Brewers beat the Mets to even the National League Wild Card Series at one game apiece.

That kind of pressure is nothing new for the Mets, who spent pretty much the entire season dancing on a knife’s edge, but it’s certainly an unfamiliar feeling for the Brewers, whose playoff odds hadn’t dropped below 75% since May or below 90% since early August. “I’m going to be honest with you: It’s hard to be tired when you’re playing playoff baseball,” New York third baseman Mark Vientos said following Tuesday’s Game 1 win. “I had a bunch of energy. I know all of us did.” The Mets certainly didn’t come out flat on Wednesday night, but they did come out horizontal.

I’ll explain what I mean by that in a moment, but I shouldn’t bury the lede any longer: This was the Jackson Chourio Game. Or at least it was the first Jackson Chourio Game; we could be in for a lot more Jackson Chourio Games over the next decade or two. The 20-year-old, who entered the season as the no. 5 prospect in baseball, has already emerged as one of the game’s best young talents, and now he’s made it clear that he’s absolutely nails in the playoffs. In Wednesday’s NL Wild Card Series Game 2 (Jackson Chourio Game 1), the Brewers left fielder ripped two game-tying home runs in a 5-3 Milwaukee win. Read the rest of this entry »

Last night, the Royals finally won a baseball game. In doing so, they snapped a seven-game losing streak that very nearly burned up their 5.5-game cushion in the Wild Card standings. The only reason they’re still in position for the third spot this morning is that the Twins have lost five of their last six. Even so, the Royals did everything in their power to avoid getting the win last night. They stranded nine baserunners over the first four innings and squandered a brilliant start from Cole Ragans. They took a scoreless game into the 10th inning, and they scored (for the first time in 27 innings) only because the Nationals did everything short of driving the zombie runner around the bases in the bullpen cart. The Manfred Man scored when the Nationals threw the ball away in the top of the 10th. In the bottom of the inning, with a runner on third base and two outs, the Nationals did the Royals another favor, removing Nasim Nuñez, who has a .386 on-base percentage, in favor of Joey Gallo, whose OBP is more than 100 points lower. In the most Joey Gallo plate appearance of all time, the slugger was one pitch from walking, then 10 feet from wrapping the game-winning homer around the right field foul pole, before finally striking out.

Now that the Royals have finally won a game, it’s time to investigate what exactly went wrong. The numbers weren’t great, but they weren’t terrible either. During the streak, they ran an 88 wRC+, which ranked 20th over that period. Their 3.24 FIP was the second best in baseball, and their 3.79 ERA ranked 14th. They hit 10 more homers than they allowed and their strikeout differential was up above 40. No matter. Six of those seven losses were decided by either one or two runs. They just kept finding a way to lose, because they were cursed. At a certain point, that’s just the simplest explanation. In order for Kansas City to break its streak, the team required the good fortune of running into a Nationals team that had lost six of its last seven, had already clinched its fifth consecutive losing season, and played as if it badly wanted to throw away a ballgame. In other words, the only thing that saved the accursed Royals was running into a team that was somehow even more despised by the movers of the universe. After all, if there’s one thing the baseball gods love, it’s whatever fits neatly into a baseball writer’s pre-existing narrative.

What did the Royals do to anger the baseball gods so? That’s what we’re here to find out. The baseball gods can be hard to please and even harder to understand. They’re vindictive. They’re unpredictable. Sometimes they like bunting, and yet other times, not so much. So let’s focus on what we know. Clearly, this infraction occurred on September 14, the date of Kansas City’s last victory before the freefall. In order to figure out what went wrong, I went back and watched the game closely, taking detailed notes about any and all possible transgressions. Surely, one of these infractions had to be the reason for the skid.

First Inning

Well, here’s a gimme right off the bat. This team is literally called the Royals. They’ve got crowns all over their uniforms and their stadiums. Ever heard of hubris, Kansas City? You’re claiming the divine right of kings; no wonder the almighty wants to see you laid low. Maybe dial it down to the Kansas City Nobles. If you want to be extra safe, you could go with the Kansas City Miserable Wretches. Just like the rest of us, the baseball gods love an underdog.

As if that weren’t enough, the second batter of the game, Bobby Witt Jr. crushed a majestic home run. If this isn’t hubris, I don’t know what else to call it.

He’s flapping his wings like a bird. What do the Royals call this celebration, the Icarus Dance? All season long, Witt has been flying too close to the sun (which in this tortured metaphor is Aaron Judge, I guess), and now his wax wings have melted and he’s fallen into the ocean to be devoured by the Detroit Tigers. Like I said, this is just the simplest explanation.

Second Inning

This is the final pitch of the second inning. It’s a four-seamer to Yasmani Grandal that’s supposed to be on the outside corner but instead ends up low and inside. It’s a mistake, but it’s still a good location. Starter Michael Wacha marches off the mound, certain that it’s strike three. Grandal thinks it’s ball four, and he starts toward first base and winds up to toss his bat over toward the dugout. When he finds out he’s instead been called out on strikes, he shouts, “No, man,” followed by a 70-grade F-bomb. But watch catcher Freddy Fermin behind home plate. He winds up to throw the ball back to Wacha before realizing that it needs to go to the first baseman.

It’s not clear whether Fermin thought the pitch was a ball, didn’t realize that it was strike three, or didn’t realize that it was the third out. Either way, he’s tempting fate. There’s one player on the field who’s always supposed to know the situation, and it’s the catcher. If it’s enough to make old-school baseball men weep into their beer, it’s enough to tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing.

Third Inning

Nothing to see here. Just a normal popup, right? Take a closer look, and this time keep your eye on Wacha. He doesn’t shout, “Up!” He doesn’t even point toward the sky in order to help any fielders who somehow made it to the big leagues despite lacking the spatial awareness to remember which direction up is. He’s violating one of baseball’s iron-clad laws. It’s in the rulebook. It’s in the unwritten rules. I’m pretty sure it’s in the Constitution. When the batter hits a popup, the pitcher points up and yells, “Up!” It’s the only thing that keeps the sky from falling.

Two innings earlier, Wacha remembered to point when he induced a popup from the exact same hitter. What makes this omission even weirder is that Wacha is especially well-suited to this easiest of tasks. If you watch the play again, you’ll notice that he does raise his right hand pretty high. It’s part of his follow-through, and he does it after every pitch. All he needed to do was extend his index finger. There’s nobody in baseball for whom this effort could’ve be easier, and yet Wacha couldn’t be bothered. Three Finger Brown is rolling over in his grave.

Fourth Inning

Do the baseball gods hate bat flips? It’s hard to say. I’d like to think that they keep up with the times, and that while celebrating a home run was once the kind of trespass that could get you demoted to Paducah for the rest of your living days, the mysterious beings who balance the scales of hits and errors have learned to enjoy a nice bat flip just as much as the rest of us. But if they do hate bat flips, then the only thing they hate even more is a bat flip that comes on a routine flyout. So MJ Melendez just might be to blame for this whole thing.

Fifth Inning

Look, this one isn’t Kansas City’s fault. The team was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Adam Frazier is about to lead off the inning with a triple, but first he needs to take a warmup cut and get situated in the batter’s box and — oh. Oh no.

Apparently umpire Chad Fairchild needs to get situated too. The best part is what happens after Fairchild wraps up downstairs. Frazier steps back out of the batter’s box and heaves the world’s biggest sigh. It’s hard to blame him for needing a second to refocus after what he just witnessed.

Later in the inning, Kyle Isbel got hit in the shin by a pitch. Disobeying the rule shouted by every high school baseball player in American history, he leaned over to rub the spot where he got hit. Still, I think that offense pales in comparison to Fairchild’s. I know I feel cursed after watching it.

Sixth Inning

I noticed two things in the sixth. First, it turns out that Adam Frazier has his own hip issues. I don’t know if this is enough to anger the baseball gods. Maybe they’re into this sort of thing. Either way, it is my solemn duty to bring any and all pelvic gyrations to your attention.

Just so we’re clear, I’m not looping the same video over and over. These are different pitches in the same plate appearance, all in the sixth inning. Frazier really needs to keep that pelvis good and limber.

The second thing seemed much more likely to cause a curse. All game long, there were two Royals fans in the fancy seats behind home plate. (This is off topic, but in that section, the snacks that go for Armageddon prices in the rest of the stadium aren’t just free, they’re tossed to you by a vendor who walks around in a full Pirates uniform. Sometimes you’ll see him winding up to throw a water bottle and you’ll think for second that one of the perks of sitting in the fancy seats is being waited on by an actual big leaguer.) I had my eye on that pair the entire time. The fan on the left had some glorious facial hair and a cool vintage hat. (He also kept pouring the free water on his neck to beat the heat, and considering what those water bottles cost in the rest of the stadium, it was the most conspicuous consumption I’ve ever witnessed in my life.) The fan on the right was wearing ear buds the entire game and looking down constantly, either because he was checking his phone or because his left leg just happened to be really interesting.

In the bottom of the sixth, however, the best buddies switched seats. And just to make sure we all knew about it, ear buds guy waved directly at the camera.

Same seats, guys. Same seats! We’re trying to make the playoffs here.

Seventh Inning

Salvador Perez and Aaron Judge are the only current players in baseball who have attained the rank of captain. Judge doesn’t wear a C on his uniform because the Yankee pinstripes are sacrosanct and it would be a crime against nature to alter them in any way (unless it’s to add an enormous Nike swoosh). But look at Perez’s C when he comes up in the seventh. Where did they even find a C that small?

It’s minuscule, and I mean that in the most literal possible sense: It’s a lowercase C. It’s honestly so small that it seems disrespectful. It’s so tiny. Did they just run out and buy it from a Michael’s? It looks like it’s just the copyright symbol for the swoosh. When Jason Varitek captained the Red Sox back in the 2000s, he wore an enormous C. It was actually the same size as the team name emblazoned across his chest.

That thing needed its own parking spot! Don’t tell me nobody in the Kansas City clubhouse was capable of finding a big chunky C for their big captain. They definitely have one, and you know how I know? Because it’s right there on the jersey! Just take that one. Problem solved. Curse broken. You’re welcome, Kansas ity.

Eighth Inning

Fermin singled to lead off the top of the eighth, at which point first base coach Damon Hollins helpfully gave him some tips about the new pitcher on the mound. Before he could do so, however, Hollins needed to consult his notes.

That’s right, Hollins apparently doesn’t use one of those cool little positioning cards that the players get. He just walks out onto the field every inning with several sheets of computer paper folded hot-dog style and flapping around in his back pocket. When the situation calls for it, he pulls them out and searches for the proper page like a best man about to give the world’s longest, sweatiest toast. How is it possible that Hollins has so many notes that it requires multiple pages? Has he never considered folding the pages a second time so that they fit comfortably into his pocket without threatening to fall out? This whole situation is an affront to any number of gods.

Ninth Inning

Look, I came into the ninth inning thinking that I’d round things off with a classic blunder; some egregious, old-school infraction tailor-made to anger the baseball gods. And I got one too. David Bednar walked leadoff batter Maikel Garcia, who promptly stole second and third, and then Isbel, who promptly stole second. The Royals had runners on second and third with no outs, and then they couldn’t manage to scratch out a single run. The next three batters went: strikeout, intentional walk, double play. If only they’d hit the ball the other way or executed a safety squeeze, the baseball gods would have squealed with delight and showered them with championships.

So that should’ve been the end, but before it all went down, I saw something even more egregious. I saw something much more petty and not at all relevant to the game of baseball. But it was also so bizarre and outré that I couldn’t go without mentioning it. Behold, Tommy Pham’s snake-skin belt buckle, complete with a miniature American flag. I had to see it and now you do too.

I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have never seen with my own eyes an object that was more certainly cursed. Still, Pham wore this abomination last night, when the Royals finally failed into a win, so now this accursed accessory might just be team’s lucky charm.

It’s entirely possible, dear sir, that I simply misheard you given the permeating hubbub in this, our fair city’s modern-day Colosseum, but just a moment ago I was left with the odd impression that you might have pronounced me out. At the risk of contravening such an esteemed authority as yourself, I aver that I must have misheard you, owing to the fact it surely was clear to one and all that the only sensible course of action under a circumstance such as this one would be to adjudge the ball foul. The only fair call is a foul ball (if you’ll forgive the indulgence), but as I say, these ears love nothing so much as to play their little tricks on me from time to time, so if the issue at hand is a simple case of misapprehension, then simply say the word and off I’ll scurry. It would be my genuine pleasure to gather my lumber, as it were, and assume once more the ready position here in the right-hand rectangle, for I do adore a tussle. Read the rest of this entry »