Wednesday night in Los Angeles it was finally the Blue Jays' turn to benefit from a historic performance. They'd lost Game 2 of this World Series to an unhittable Yoshinobu Yamamoto, who put together nine innings of dominance the likes of which, by at least one measure, had not been seen in a World Series since before the launch of Sputnik. They'd lost a surreal Game 3 in which Shohei Ohtani socked two dingers and two doubles and reached base nine times in nine plate appearances, which has never happened before and is not likely to ever happen again, unless Ohtani someday does it himself. In their own wins, the Blue Jays had been normal—admirably normal—out there doing normal baseball things, simply put together in the right sequences. That Toronto's victories did not require anyone sprouting wings was encouraging, and helped to establish a sense that they'd been broadly the better team, even if the wins themselves were somewhat rudely overshadowed.
The performance in Game 5 of rookie Blue Jays starting pitcher Trey Yesavage was not quite an Ohtani-level what the fuck is happening right now type of thing. Yesavage's 12 strikeouts were the most by a rookie in a World Series game in history. Yesavage, making his second start in this series, his fifth start of the postseason, and pitching on the road in a playoff game for the first time in his career, mowed his way through the Dodgers' lineup, making several of the game's biggest stars look overwhelmed and ridiculous along the way. His disgusting splitter, thrown from approximately the tropopause, induced seven swing-and-misses against just one ball-in-play; his slider, thrown from the same preposterous arm angle, induced a whopping 14 swing-and-misses. Just three of Yesavage's 104 pitches were hit hard and in play, per Statcast. One of them, launched by Kiké Hernandez into the stands in left in the bottom of the third inning, accounted for Yesavage's only run allowed in seven innings. Yesavage didn't even watch the ball fly out of there; two batters later, he used one of those dive-bombing splitters to make the best baseball player in the world look entirely foolish, and finished the inning. The Dodgers never came close to bothering him again.
The Dodgers offense is certifiably funked. They have now scored four runs over the last 29 innings of the series. You are allowed to consider those numbers somewhat rigged—they include nine innings of extras from the insane finish to Game 3—but you are not allowed to pretend any longer that the non-Ohtani Dodgers are carrying their share of the weight. Freddie Freeman is batting .250 with two extra-base hits in the series. Will Smith is at .238. Mookie Betts, who was shuffled down a spot in the lineup Wednesday to account for his ghastly underperformance, is batting .130 with just three walks and zero extra-base hits. You hate to say it about a collection of excellent and proven veterans, but: More like Freddie Peeman, Nil Smith, and, God help me, Puke-y Betts.
"I’ve just been terrible," said a staring Betts, after the loss. "I've been terrible and there's no, uhh. I wish it was from lack of effort, I really do, but it's not." Los Angeles's superstar supporting trio, plus Ohtani, went 1-for-15 Wednesday night, with eight strikeouts and zero walks; the only hit the Dodgers got from their top four hitters came on a single in the ninth inning, when the Blue Jays were leading 6–1. The runner was stranded.
The helplessness of Los Angeles's hitters Wednesday night made it so that the game's decisive run was scored on the third pitch of the game. Blake Snell, whose aura remains distinctly post-apocalyptic even while thriving, had already allowed one dinger, a first-pitch ambush job to the delightfully plumber-ish Davis Schneider. Two pitches later, Snell fired a fastball over the inside of the plate and Vladimir Guerrero Jr. cranked it into the Dodgers bullpen. The Blue Jays, per Sarah Langs, became the second team ever to open a postseason game with consecutive dingers, and the first to do it in a World Series. Guerrero is showing Los Angeles's big boys how it's done: The broadcast shared the mind-boggling statistic Wednesday night that Guerrero has hit eight home runs in this postseason while striking out just five total times. I had to see it for myself, this morning, and it's true: In 16 games, he's got 11 extra-base hits, including the eight dingers, plus 12 walks, and he has struck out just five times.
The template for Toronto is supposed to involve wearing down a Dodgers starter, pestering him to an early exit so that their hitters can then bully around the several awful bozos that Dave Roberts is forced to pull out of his bullpen. Two dingers in three pitches is, under the circumstances, sort of a confusing outcome: Snell escaped the first inning on just 15 pitches. Sure, there was a crooked number up there, but how are the Blue Jays supposed to make a meal out of Los Angeles's relievers at this pace? And, in fact, Snell did settle down and make it into seventh inning. Roberts did everything he could to avoid pulling his starter, including letting Snell face Schneider a fourth time with his pitch count already up over 100. Snell needed a double-play but couldn't get it, and handed the ball over to Edgardo Henriquez with two away and runners on the corners.
"It's hard because you can only push a starter so much. I thought Blake emptied the tank, " Roberts said, after the game. "In this situation, second base with Vlad up, I felt Henriquez was the guy to get him out." True to form, Henriquez allowed both inherited runners to score, the first on a wild-pitch, Los Angeles's third of the half-inning. Of course Anthony Banda's ass allowed another run to score in the eighth, after uncorking a wild pitch of his own.
You hate to do it to them, you truly do, but: Blake Smell. Dave Slobberts. Banda defies but also does not require this sort of nicknaming. And you are picking up a note of Los Angeles Fraudgers in there, as well. Don't deny it!
The Dodgers are obviously here for a reason. With their accumulation of talent—an accumulation so obscene that they have recently been accused of breaking the sport—they are perfectly capable of breaking out of this slump and burying the world. It's just that it's been so long now since they've shown any real signs of offensive life, it's getting harder to remember what that even looks like. They haven't really unloaded on anyone since the first week of October, when they were handed the pre-chewed Cincinnati Reds as a playoff appetizer. The Dodgers are supposed to have distinct advantages over the Blue Jays, dominant enough in starting pitching and offensive firepower to cover for that shaky bullpen and a lineup that is a spot or two short of the desirable length. But when the starting pitching can't make magic, and while the top of the lineup is slumping all at once, it becomes extremely hard to ignore that the Dodgers have recent Washington Nationals—Banda and outfielder Alex Call—playing important roles in the actual World Series.
Eventually you are forced to accept the evidence and grant that the Blue Jays might just be the better team, comprehensively. They can be normal, and perform steadily within the expansive limits of normalcy, and beat the Dodgers. The Dodgers, so far as we can tell, require lightning to strike. That's a tough way to make a living.
