I’m going to get out ahead of this and just condemn the Braves. I know what happens now, because my motherfuck skills have risen to a level I can no longer control or understand. I just speculated on what the baseball world would think of Dave Roberts. I tried to make it clear that I didn’t think the series was over. I was doing my best to hedge my bets, hoping to stave off that motherfucking ether.
The Braves won’t get a better shot. They had their best pitcher on the mound, and the Dodgers didn’t have any plan for Game 5. It was a bullpen game, meaning they had to make it up as they went. Even the Dodgers’ first solution, the galactically annoying Joe Kelly, got hurt after giving up two runs. What more could you ask if you’re Atlanta? You’ve got your best gun fully loaded and the other side is trying to fashion weapons out of matches, loose gunpowder, and a couple PVC pipes.
Max Fried swallowed his tongue, the Braves offense didn’t do anything after the first, and after an 11-2 drubbing the Braves are going to have to get through either Max Scherzer or Walker Buehler for a second time, even if neither are at the height of their powers. Which takes more than a smile. Sure, they’ll be at home, where they’ve yet to lose this postseason, but this is still an 88-win team vs. a 106-win one (though a greatly hobbled 106-win team now).
I’ve seen this movie. I know how it ends. It’ll be Dave Roberts with that smile of a man who deep down knows he got away with another one and he can put the impostor syndrome fears away for another winter. It’s Mookie Betts being a superhero for another game or a Cody Bellinger home run on either a pitch up around his neck or a curve that hangs so badly it actually pauses in mid-air. Just getting out in front of it.
You don’t let the Dodgers off the mat, Braves. Didn’t you learn last year?