Monthly Archives: October 2025

Yanks rallied after being down 6-1 last night with the season on the line. Aaron Judge had a great game, the game we’ve been wanting him to have in October for years. They came back and won and it was a jumping joy for Yankee fans.

They’re back at it tonight with the Kid on the mound. Figure he’s got to do better than Fried and Rodón—who knows? Big ask on his shoulders but heck, this is October, and the dude seems to be pretty cool-headed.

Let’s hope Judge and the boys have another strong night.

Never mind vacation: Let’s Go Yankees!

Picture by Bags

There’s a part of that pines for the tension of those late 90s/early aughts battles between the Yankees and the Red Sox, when each game carried the weight of decades, as if DiMaggio and Williams, Munson and Fisk, and all the rest were watching. A series in May seemed terribly important, and those few series in October were life or death.

It was that nostalgia (and, believe it or not, a George Costanza bobblehead) that justified a trip to New York this summer with my son to see two games in New York. I’d seen the Yankees play in the Stadium before, both the old one and the new, but I’d never seen a Yankees-Red Sox game in person, and so we went.

We chose the first two games of the four-game series in the third week of August. You’ll remember that series — the Boston wins in the opening three games were so decisive that the Yankee win on Sunday didn’t even matter. The Yankees were great against the bottom half of the league, the narrative went, but they couldn’t beat the good teams. They couldn’t beat Boston.

When they lost to the Red Sox on Tuesday night in the first game of the American League Wildcard Series, the narrative seemed to be correct. But as I pondered the possibility of another loss on Wednesday night, it occurred to me that what would really sting would be having the season come to an end; losing to the Red Sox wouldn’t add any extra pain. I just didn’t want this team to go out like that. Thanks to Cam Schlittler, they didn’t.

The Yankees scored their four runs in the fourth inning, courtesy of a couple questionable plays by the Red Sox and a couple seeing-eye ground balls, but it was nothing to apologize for. Even so, I won’t waste any space here discussing it.

The only story that matters coming out of Thursday night’s 4-0 win is Cam Schlittler. I had a good feeling about him heading into the game, and I even predicted to a friend that he would strike out eight; turns out I sold him short. With a variety of fastballs and sinkers ranging from 95mph to 101, Schlittler was absolutely dominant all night long, finishing with eight innings pitched, twelve strikeouts, and zero walks, and only five hits. It was the first time in postseason history that a pitcher threw eight or more shutout innings with 12 or more strikeouts and no walks. Think about that for a minute. He did something that Sandy Koufax and Bob Gibson weren’t able to do.

But the box score doesn’t tell complete story because box scores never do. Schlittler didn’t just dominate the Boston hitters, he dominated in the most cold-blooded way, never showing a hint of emotion. He was a Bizarro World Fernando Cruz, just putting his head down and walking to the dugout as the Stadium exploded after yet another strike out. It was one of the greatest pitching performances I’ve ever seen, and it was a rookie making his first postseason start in an elimination game against the Boston Red Sox.

More than just advancing the Yankees to the American League Divisional Series, young Mr. Schlittler gave us permission to dream. First, there’s the Big Dream — a rotation of Gerrit Cole, Max Fried, Carlos Rodon, Cam Schlittler, and (fill-in-the-blank) for the next six years. Just imagine.

But what about the Immediate Dream? Having Fried and Rodon at the top of the rotation gives the Yankees a shot in any postseason series, but Schlittler’s start changes the entire calculus. We can’t expect him to reproduce what he did last night on a regular basis, but just knowing that he has that in him changes everything. None of the remaining eight teams can match the three starters the Yankees are rolling out right now, so right now everything is possible. Everything.

So in the aftermath of Thursday night’s clinching win, I thought back to that August night my son and I spent with the Bleacher Creatures. There was an undeniable passion for the Yankees, but there was also an underlying anxiety that bubbled up from time to time whenever someone in a Red Sox jersey stood up to cheer. Or even to go get a beer. Fists never met flesh, but there were at least two or three shouting matches, and by the seventh inning or so several of NYPD’s finest were dispersed among the crowd to keep the peace. After the final out, as a disappointed crowd slowly made its way through the concourse and out into the Bronx night, the handful of Red Sox fans we saw were gleefully eager to engage, taunting anyone within earshot about the game and a season that seemed to be spiraling down the drain.

I wondered about those Boston fans on Thursday night. I wondered if that glorious night in August was enough for them.

I was in a bind yesterday. The game had a 3:08 Pacific time start, and my basketball practice went from 3:30-5:30. So I could track the score through practice (and be a bad coach) then race home afterwards (and be a bad driver) to catch the end. Or I could turn off my phone, focus on practice, drive home like a normal person, and then watch the recording in my deprivation tank.

I chose option two, but I figured I could still listen to the beginning of the game on the drive over to practice. Kind of a temporary compromise. Soon after Dave Sims* described Ben Rice’s blistering line drive into the right field seats, I turned off the car, turned off my phone, and headed to the gym with a smile on my face and a 2-0 Yankee lead in my pocket. Things were going to be just fine.

*A quick note about Dave Sims. A commenter mentioned something here earlier this week that I have to second. I often find myself driving home after school or practice during the early innings of the Yankee game, so I’ve listened to a lot of games this season on Sirius XM. Dave Sims has been an absolute joy, and it’s made me realize that I only put up with John Sterling because he came with Suzyn Waldman. The pairing of Sims and Waldman has been perfect, and it seems like they’ve been working together for years, not months. If you haven’t had the chance to listen to them, I highly recommend it.

But when I got back to my car after practice, I made a rookie mistake, probably because of my rising nerves. I punched the ignition button and the audio screen came to life, spoiling all my plans: Yankees 4, Red Sox 3, Bottom of the 8th. At least it was good news, so I couldn’t really be disappointed either with the unraveling of my plans or with Trent Grisham’s strikeout to leave the bases loaded. I’d only have to wait three outs instead of three hours to learn the Yankees’ fate.

It’s just a twenty-minute drive home, but I wonder if my fellow commuters knew what was going on inside my car. I was passing a park filled with hundreds of youth volleyball players as David Bednar struck out Wilyer Abreu, and a few blocks later I was screaming at the top of my lungs while sitting at a traffic light as he caught Jaren Duran looking on a 3-2 count. All of you probably threw up in your mouths while Ceddanne Rafaela’s ball was arcing towards the right field stands, but Dave Sims gave a measured description that never had me worried* and I shouted with joy just a few blocks from home. I looked into a few car windows around me, wondering if by some chance, three thousand miles away from the Bronx, there was someone else celebrating the victory, but alas I was alone.

*Have you ever had moments of stress about something that didn’t happen? When I finally got home and saw this play during the highlights, my stomach dropped even though I knew Judge was going to catch the ball. I can’t imagine the swing of emotions I’d have had watching live — the fear that the game was tied followed so closely by elation that it was over. Kind of the like the last swing of the 2000 World Series.

There was one mystery that I needed to be explained. During the ninth inning Sims had mentioned that Jazz Chisholm, Jr., (who had given an Ichiro-style postgame interview* on Tuesday night) had scored from first base on a single from Austin Wells. I tried to imagine a scenario in which this could happen. When I finally saw the play, I couldn’t help but think how different this Yankee team is. Jazz was on the move on a 3-2 count, so when Wells smashed a line drive down the right field line, he had already rounded second before the ball touched the grass. He never broke speed, rounding third in a blur before diving head first and sliding his left hand across the plate just a breath ahead of the tag.

*It’s hard to remember what a novelty Ichiro was when he first arrived. The second-best player in baseball right now is from Japan, along with more than a dozen others sprinkled around baseball, but in 2001 there was only Ichiro, and as big as he was in Seattle, he was far bigger in his homeland. There were rumors that a Japanese publication was offering $2 million for a nude photo of the superstar, so for a time Ichiro was conducting locker room interviews with his back to the assembled media as he changed to avoid any unwanted photographs. It was a crazy time.

As I watched him sprinting from first third, it occurred to me that rarely have the Yankees enjoyed a player as fast as Jazz. One measure of a team’s overall baserunning ability is a stat called “Extra Bases,” or how often a player takes an extra base by scoring from second on a single or from first on a double. The 2025 Yankees are tied for last in this category, but here was Jazz taking two extra bases in the bottom of eighth inning to keep his team alive. It was a beautiful thing.

The second best thing that happened for me on Wednesday night was that the Dodgers ended their series, allowing the network to push tonight’s Yankee game to a more reasonable (for me) 5:00pm Pacific start. I won’t get to watch the first couple innings live, but that’s not the end of the world.

I feel really good about Cam Schlittler, so I feel great about the game.

Let’s go, Yankees!

In keeping with yesterday’s theme, it’s time to turn the page.

In some ways, Game 1 went exactly as hoped. Max Fried was excellent and Aaron Judge had a couple hits, but that was about it. The Yankees couldn’t have expected to get much off of Boston ace Garrett Crochet, so when Anthony Volpe’s line drive settled into the right field seats to give the Bombers a 1-0 lead in the second inning, there was hope. When Fried retired Jaren Duran for the first out in the seventh and left with that same 1-0 lead, I even found myself counting outs.

And of course, that’s when everything went south. Luke Weaver had Ceddanne Rafaela in an 0-2 hole, but walked him, then gave up a bloop hit to Nick Sogard on a ball that landed short of the right field gap between Judge and Trent Grisham. Sogard never broke stride as he rounded first and slid into second ahead of a throw from Judge that was… not what you’d expect from a right fielder. When Red Sox manager Alex Cora was asked about the play after the game, he was blunt but seemed reluctant to criticize the Yankee captain. “That was preparation.” What he didn’t say was, “We know Judge is compromised right now and we’re going to run on him every chance we get.”

Regardless, the Red Sox had men on second and third with one out, and suddenly it felt like more than just the game was on the line. Pinch hitter Masataka Yoshida only needed to see one pitch. He laced a fastball into center field, and both runs scored. Weaver, who has sometimes looked like the dominant closer of the 2024 World Series run and sometimes not, faced just the minimum three hitters in his outing. He walked the number eight hitter, gave up a double to the nine, and then the two-run single to the pinch hitter.

An added insurance run in the top of the ninth loomed large when the Yankees mounted a rally against Boston in the bottom of the ninth against the suddenly unhittable Aroldis Chapman. Paul Goldschmidt flipped a base hit into right field, bringing Judge to the plate as the tying run.

The best hitter in baseball was striding to the plate to face possibly the best pitcher in baseball in the bottom of the ninth inning, but the confrontation didn’t last as long as it took you to read this sentence. Judge looked at a 100mph fastball and sent it back through the box and into centerfield at 116mph. It wasn’t a game-tying home run, but it was a small victory.

Clay Bellinger followed Judge’s hit with another one-pitch at bat, dumping a single into the left-centerfield gap to load the bases with none out.

In that moment, with Postseason Giancarlo Stanton striding to the plate, ESPN pegged the Yankees’ win expectancy at 49.4%. (It had been 8.7% at the start of the inning.) But Stanton struck out, Jazz Chisholm, Jr., popped out to right, Grisham struck out, and Chapman struck his usual triumphant pose on the mound.

And in case you’re wondering, this was the first time in postseason history that a team had loaded the bases with no outs in the bottom of the ninth and failed to score.

As you’d expect after a game like this, there was plenty of drama in the aftermath as questions abounded. Should Aaron Boone have pulled Fried after just 102 pitches? Should Chisholm, Jr., have been in the starting lineup? Is Judge’s arm at full strength?

Regardless of where you come down on any of these questions (my answers: I guess so, yes, and obviously not but I don’t care), what’s done is done. And even though being down 0-1 in a best of three series is not what you want, I still feel good about this team’s chances. I honestly think Rodon will be great tonight, and I think the Yankees have finally figured out Brayan Bello. If they win tonight — and they will win tonight — I have faith in Cam Schlittler on Thursday night. I still feel good!

Let’s go, Yankees!