Good morning, friends. ☕🧢⚾ 2 November 2025 Last night, I stayed up late watching Game 7 of the World Series—Los Angeles Dodgers vs. Toronto Blue Jays. Final score: 5–4 Dodgers, crowning them champions once again. Yay, says this hat-wearing Dodgers fan. I have to admit, the outcome caught me off guard—oh me of little faith. The Blue Jays’ offense was formidable: a lineup of heavy hitters, big-bodied sluggers who looked capable of launching baseballs into orbit. At the top of the ninth, with one out and the Dodgers trailing 4–3, Miguel Rojas stepped to the plate. A light-hitting utility infielder, Rojas hadn’t even cracked the lineup until Game 6. Then, out of nowhere, he delivered a solo home run—tying the game 4–4 and keeping the Dodgers alive. But survival hinged on their ability to hold. Hold they did. Yoshinobu Yamamoto, calm and consistent, took the mound. In my view, he was the Dodgers’ sovereign anchor throughout the series. Under immense pressure, he pitched through the ninth and tenth innings without surrendering a run. Then came the top of the 11th. With two outs and Shane Bieber pitching for Toronto, Will Smith stepped in and launched a solo home run—Dodgers up 5–4. The Blue Jays responded with their intimidating offense. In quick succession, they placed runners on first and third. A sacrifice bunt left one out. Then came Alejandro Kirk, whom I personally dubbed Mighty Casey. The tension was thick. Cameras panned to Blue Jays fans—some clutching their heads, others clasping hands beneath their chins as if in prayer. With the count at 1–1, Yamamoto delivered. Kirk hit a ground ball between second and third. Mookie Betts, now playing shortstop, fielded it cleanly and triggered a game-ending double play. And just like that, the Dodgers won. “It ain’t over till it’s over.” — Yogi Berra “But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.” - Ernest Lawrence Thayer #morning #friends #flower #basebass #WorldSeries
