For a moment there, it was getting a bit sleepy. In the bottom of the seventh inning, the Tampa Bay Rays were up 3-1 on the Cleveland Guardians: a lead, but not an insurmountable one. Each of their three runs came from plinking away at the Guardians' relievers—the Guardians were reduced to a bullpen game to fend off elimination—in the second and third innings. Then, up came Junior Caminero with a runner on. After, it was impossible to drowse off.
The numbers on the home run themselves are not very impressive, nor was the timing particularly special. Caminero just dinked the foul pole; Statcast indicates that it would have only been a home run in Houston, New York, and, indeed, Tampa. Speaking purely in homer quality, it paled in comparison to his teammate Yandy Díaz's next-inning dagger. But absent the aesthetic appeal of a no-doubter, or the narrative sway of a game-winner, what made Caminero's home run incredible was Junior Caminero.
Most pimp jobs, because they center on the bat flip, require total confidence that the ball will be leaving the field. Caminero, who was already partway down the first-base line by the time the home run was confirmed, had to innovate. He jogged backwards and, before touching first base, banged his chest and roared at the home crowd, which answered back in kind. He paid some attention to each part of the Rays' stadium as he rounded the bases, and slowed down again just before touching home plate. There, he made sure to point at the dugout and fold his arms. Sarah Langs had the numbers: At 38.66 seconds, Caminero put together the slowest home run trot since Statcast began tracking in 2015, behind only Junior Caminero, a month ago.
The Rays would go on to win the game 7-3 and the series 4-2. It was fitting they won the series the way that they did, with a game that aptly summarized the Rays' whole deal. Game 6 starter and ALCS MVP Freddy Peralta was a trade deadline acquisition; he had been very good with the Brewers, then quite poor for the Mets, and then fixed again by the Rays. In the top of the ninth, the Rays brought out their closer Bryan Baker, who never had an ERA below 3.49 prior to 2026, when he racked up 41 saves and a 1.44 ERA. Even in a non-save situation, he induced a ground out, a ground out, and a pop out.
Alchemy is nothing. The Rays have been transmuting lead to gold for over a decade now; the Dodgers have their process, and the Rays have theirs. It's just that unlike in 2020, when games were still being played in empty stadiums, the fundamental "if a tree falls in the forest" aspect of the team is at least temporarily suspended. Caminero's slow trot around the bases let the spectator take in the full scope of Rays fans, back at home in their janky, reroofed stadium, aroar. (Caminero also provides an easy and necessary Guy for a team whose most notable recent characters have been the Bullpen Homophobes.) The size of the market hardly matters if the stadium is packed; both the Rays and their World Series opponents have proven that with their respective postseason runs. Someone is watching.
Rays–Brewers is a surprising matchup. The narrative is already written: One of these teams will walk away with the first World Series victory in its history, the first such World Series since 1980, when the Philadelphia Phillies defeated the Kansas City Royals. It feels like an underdog facing off against an underdog, but unlike, say, 2023, it shouldn't. The Rays won 98 games and had the best record in the American League; the Brewers won 103 games and had the best record in all of baseball. Here was a rare case of regular-season success entering and then actually exiting the MLB postseason wringer fully intact.
If Rays–Brewers feels like an underdog facing off against an underdog, that would be because of their—forgive me for saying this word, but it must be said with a lockout on the horizon—payrolls. The Brewers had the 19th highest payroll in MLB this year, the Rays a whopping 28th. The Rays currently have zero dollars in actual payroll committed for 2028, just two years from now. Their official 2028 payroll number of $454,545 reflects the suspended Wander Franco's signing bonus.
This is not to lionize stingy ownership—I much prefer the Texas Rangers' strategy—but simply to note, as memories are short, that for all of the discourse, the sport of baseball itself provides its own parity. It is a sport built on fine lines, sequencing, moments. You can have a process, but sometimes you just need to play the game. And if you play the game, anyone can win, whether they've done it before or not.
