Editor’s Note: Cade Michaelson is a fourth-year journalism major and The Point’s sports editor. The opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect those of The Point.
Moments after I watched an anxiety-inducing, heart-pounding Game 6 of the World Series that ended with a miraculous double play to force a Game 7 and a chance to see my Dodgers beat the Toronto Blue Jays and win back-to-back titles, I received a call from my mom.
My dad’s birthday was the following day, and she wanted to surprise him by flying me home to watch Game 7 with him. I had a choir performance, but I knew that if I didn’t take the opportunity and missed out on the chance to watch an awesome World Series-clinching game with my dad, I’d be filled with regret. To say I made the right decision is an understatement.
If you had told me before the game that Shohei Ohtani — the greatest baseball player of all time and the Game 7 starter for the Dodgers — would only throw 2.1 innings and give up three runs while Max Scherzer, the 41-year-old hurler for the Blue Jays, would throw 4.1 innings of one-run ball, I’d tell you I didn’t like our chances. And as it turned out, I didn’t like our chances for 95% of this game. That’s baseball.
This World Series is the epitome of why baseball is the greatest game there ever was. This series included young studs, seasoned veterans and future Hall of Famers: Shohei Ohtani, Vladimir Guerrero Jr., Clayton Kershaw, Max Scherzer, Freddie Freeman, Bo Bichette and Mookie Betts. And yet, when you ask me about the 2025 World Series, maybe the first player I’ll think of is the 36-year-old role player Miguel Rojas.
It truly took everybody on the Dodgers to win this series. Freddie Freeman’s 18th inning walk-off homer in Game 3 put the Dodgers up 2-1. Will Klein, who threw a total of 15.1 innings in the regular season, threw four scoreless innings and more pitches than he’s ever thrown at the professional level to allow Freeman to walk it off.
Yoshinobu Yamamoto threw a complete game in Game 2 to even the series, six innings in Game 6 and closed the Fall Classic out on zero days’ rest after throwing 96 pitches the day prior. Kiké Hernandez caught a line drive off the bat of Andres Gímenez and fired to Rojas, who made an unbelievably hard pick at second to thwart the threatening Jays and force a Game 7.
Max Muncy hit a homer to get within one run in the eighth inning. Rojas — who in 12 seasons in the big leagues has only hit 57 home runs — was the one to hit a game-tying shot as the Dodgers were two outs from elimination. And Will Smith, a stalwart force for the Dodgers’ offense all season, delivered the game-winning big fly.
Need I go on? Because I certainly can. I’m only scratching the surface. So much happened in this series, and so many guys had to execute for this to go the Dodgers’ way. I haven’t even mentioned Kershaw’s triumphant final appearance, retiring Nathan Lukes with two outs and the bases loaded to keep the game tied. Or Teoscar Hernandez and Tommy Edman’s perfectly executed relay to throw out Davis Schneider at the plate just two innings prior. Or Mookie Betts, in one of the worst offensive stretches of his career, coming up with a two-run single in a 3-1 Game 6 win. Or how about Andy Pages, who had one of the worst offensive postseasons of all time, coming in for Tommy Edman and making a season-saving catch as he trampled Kiké Hernandez at the warning track?
Baseball has a way of finding every player at some point. And it’s what makes it the greatest sport in the world. In basketball, you know the ball will be in the hands of the best player in the biggest moment. In football, you know there’s a good chance the quarterback is looking for his best receiver in the biggest moment. In baseball, you can’t control the fact that your nine hitter may come up with the season on the line. He may let you down, but he may do what Rojas did.
Rojas is an instant legend in the Dodgers community and will never have to buy a drink in Los Angeles again. You can’t control where the ball is going to be hit. Pages redeemed all of his offensive ineptitude by catching an Ernie Clement fly ball I certainly thought was going to end their season. Baseball.
Being a diehard Dodgers fan, much of that game was an excruciating watch. As Bichette went yard in the third to go up 3-0, I worried that I flew home to watch the Dodgers get trounced. As the Jays loaded the bases with one out in the bottom of the ninth, I feared a walk-off was looming. But in baseball, there’s always a chance. Baseball has no clock. Time isn’t working against you. There’s always a chance something miraculous will happen. And though much of that game was watched with immense stress and pacing around the house, it ended in jubilee, a feeling of euphoria.
We hugged, we yelled, we accidentally created a dogpile of sorts. As much as it was excitement, it was also relief and shock. I had just watched my team win arguably the greatest baseball game of all time. And I got to watch it with my family, and my dad specifically, who is the main reason I love this game so much. It provided me with one of the best nights of my life, and in my dad’s words, “The greatest birthday ever.”
Baseball is the best. Nobody can convince me otherwise.
