Brewers vs Rays World Series: Why Milwaukee Never Panics
The World Series is the one stretch of the year when every baseball fan is watching the same thing, and this year it is worth watching. Through two games, Milwaukee and Tampa Bay gave us bunts, hit-and-runs, double steals and two one-run games. Nick and I spent most of Sunday's show on it. Here is where I landed, and where I think the series was heading.
Game 1: exactly the game we expected
Brewers 1, Rays 0. Tampa sent Nick Martinez to the mound, which was a quiet way of saying they were not conceding Game 1 but were not building their plan around it either. Martinez pitched almost pitch for pitch with Jacob Misiorowski, and for a team facing the best arm in baseball, losing by one felt fine.
What I liked about Misiorowski was that he did what we said he had to do. He pounded the zone. He was middle-middle with a lot of pitches and essentially said: here is 103, here is 104, hit it if you can, and please do not walk anyone. He had stretches where he lost command, but they lasted a batter or two, and when he settled himself down he went right back to dominant. He was out after 78 pitches, and I do not read that as a sign he was struggling. Those are not 78 pitches in May on a Tuesday. Those are 78 pitches with the sweat running into your eyes, and the mental load of a World Series start is its own kind of fatigue.
The Rays had chances to tie it twice and did not cash either one. In a series where one team needs to play almost perfect baseball, wasted chances matter more than usual.
Game 2: Tampa's worst game of the year, and they lost by one
Liam Hicks capped a four-run first inning for the Rays with the first home run of the series. Milwaukee answered with two in the bottom half, tied it on a Sal Frelick homer to center, and went ahead on a Cooper Pratt single in the seventh. The bullpen shut the door.
Here is the part that stuck with me. Tampa played about as badly as it has all year and still lost by a single run. Drew Rasmussen looked rusty on extra rest. The defense, a strength all season, came apart. The Rays ended two innings on caught stealings and had another runner cut down at the plate. Bringing Ian Seymour into a high-leverage spot and watching him burn the team was one more decision that did not work out.
Think of it two ways. The optimistic read for Tampa is that if this is their floor, they can hang with Milwaukee. The pessimistic read is the one that matters: the Brewers were not great either, Pratt made a bad error in the first, and Milwaukee still won because the lineup has no automatic outs. Every hitter gives you a 10 to 12 pitch at-bat, and if he makes the out he usually dunks one into left or right first. You cannot give a team like that extra outs.
The Aranda play is not Buckner
The soft trickler that went through Jonathan Aranda's legs at first base and scored the third run will be compared to Bill Buckner by people who want a story. Do not buy it. That ball was a two-hopper with side spin that skipped off the edge of the grass. Should he have made the play? A thousand percent. But the error was that he tried to throw before he gloved it, because he saw a chance to cut down a runner and got a little ahead of himself. That is a fundamentals mistake by a young first baseman in a big moment, not a fungo that rolled through his legs.
Kevin Cash is overmanaging
This is the part Nick and I debated most. Cash said after the game that people might think he was being reckless and that he planned to keep doing it. I think he is being reckless. William Contreras is excellent at throwing runners out, and Tampa kept sending guys into him, except for Chandler Simpson, the one runner who actually has the speed to challenge him and who has been picking his spots.
Nick defended the call to send Aranda on a 3-2 count with one out and Simpson at the plate, since you do not want to hit into an inning-ending double play. I argued Simpson is nearly impossible to double up, so the downside of running was bigger than it looked. Either way, the issue is the pattern: this is a team that won with disciplined, patient baseball, and it has been forcing the game in the World Series. The Brewers let the game come to them. The Rays are trying to dictate to it. That is a thin line, and it showed up all over Game 2.
Contrast it with the dugouts. Pat Murphy is so mellow that when something goes wrong, his players look over and he gives them a nod that says we are good, keep playing. Cash is pacing, creating pressure that did not need to exist.
The check swing everyone argued about
Yandy Diaz was rung up on a check swing to end Game 2, and the internet came unglued. We went through the stills and agreed: the bat head got out in front of his wrists, which is how I define a swing. If the wrists stay locked and the bat head is behind the hands, you are in control and it is a check swing. When the wrists break and the bat head gets in front, you are attempting to hit the ball. Diaz is strong enough to pull it back and make it look less severe, but he crossed the line.
More important, I do not like building a narrative around one call. I can name five plays in that game that cost the Rays more than that strike three, including a send of Hicks, the slowest runner on the team, on a single to left that never had a chance against Jackson Chourio's throw. Any two of those going the other way and the game ends differently.
Why this Brewers team feels different
I will say something that might sound unkind: this roster is almost devoid of star power. Outside of Misiorowski, Chourio and Christian Yelich, the average fan cannot name anyone in the starting lineup. It reminds me of the Patriots dynasty, a collection of guys who would be third and fourth options elsewhere and become stars because they buy into the system and sacrifice their numbers to win.
Chat added the better comparison: the 2015 Royals. Great defense, speed, contact, and a way of nickel-and-diming you into surrender. Another thing I noticed in this postseason: every time a Brewers player makes a mistake, he gets redemption later in the same game, and if he does not, a teammate picks him up. Frelick, Jake Bauers and Pratt have all done it. It is a death by a thousand cuts, and it is more demoralizing than one big blow because you sit and wait for the next one.
They also never seem to panic. I have not seen this team look rattled in any game this postseason, including a 4-0 hole against the Dodgers. They almost do not lock in until they trail, like a boxer spending the first round feeling you out before deciding on a game plan. That is a managing credit to Murphy as much as a players credit.
The bullpen and the Ashby problem
My biggest worry going in was the bullpens, and it is where the series is being decided. The Rays pen is good. The Brewers pen is elite. Aaron Ashby had not allowed a run in 11 innings, with a 98 mph fastball and a curveball in the high 70s from the left side that is simply unfair. I think he may be the best pitcher on the staff, full stop, and he is working from the bullpen.
My only concern is overexposure. Hitters see him repeatedly, and a reliever used this heavily can start to tire. Murphy's answer was that he is penciling guys in unless they tap him on the shoulder, and he left Ashby in for a final out rather than bringing in Trevor Megill, which is also a way of not burning your other weapon. I would not be surprised to see Ashby in every game. Dustin May is likely to be used in a bullpen role, and I think he could open Game 4 if Milwaukee is in control.
Where it stood on Sunday
The Brewers led 2-0 heading to Tropicana Field. My read was that Tampa had to win all three at home to have a real chance, that the Rays needed Freddy Peralta to shove against his old team, and that they had to stop trying to play someone else's game. I also said William Contreras was the runaway MVP of the series, with the hits, the RBIs and the runners gunned down, which is worth remembering when you read how it finished. Here is the full World Series story, and here is what we said after it ended.
Also on the show
Defensive plays: Nick's top five World Series plays, with Brooks Robinson, Devon White, Dwight Evans, Andrew Paez's tackle of Kike Hernandez in last year's Game 7 and, at number one, Willie Mays in 1954. My pushback: Mays's throw was as good as the catch and nobody talks about it.
Home runs: his five most dramatic, led by Bill Mazeroski in 1960, followed by Joe Carter, Kirk Gibson, Carlton Fisk and David Freese. Chat made the case for Kirby Puckett.
Chat questions: the most meaningful World Series memory (2004 for Nick; 2013 and the Boston Strong parade for me), the closest World Series ever (2016, 1991, 2001, last year), and which losing team deserved it most (the 1995 Indians and 2004 Cardinals from me; the 2001 Yankees were a popular answer).
Trivia: Two Truths and a Lie, World Series edition. Misiorowski fell 12 strikeouts short of Ben Sheets's Brewers single-season record.
Business of baseball: Game 1 viewership came in around 10 million, the lowest since 2023, though the numbers were unofficial. Bud Selig publicly backed a salary cap, which surprised no one. Sonny Gray said he wants to pitch one more year and would like it to be in Boston.
Milestone: five years of Rounding Third. Thank you, truly.
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