Is it spring training yet? No — but the championship season is upon us, a finer thing still.

THE MORNING HORSEHIDE HERALD

"Every Score Set Down, No Deed Unsung"

~ Being a Faithful Daily Chronicle of the National Pastime ~

Volume I · No. 61 · Monday, the Seventh of September, Two Thousand and Twenty-Six

Reporting 15 contests from the day prior.

The Game of the Day

FORTY THOUSAND PHILADELPHIANS BOO HIM ALL AFTERNOON, AND HE THANKS THEM WITH THE TYING THUNDER — RILEY'S TRIPLE FINISHES THE ARGUMENT: BRAVES 5, PHILLIES 4

Down four runs to one in the eighth, Atlanta is delivered by the villain the Citizens Bank faithful built with their own lungs: Ronald Acuña Jr. turns a hundred-mile fastball into a three-run blast, tours the bases at a promenade, waves to the jeering grandstand from the dugout steps — and Austin Riley's ninth-inning triple takes the game, the set, and the season's series besides

The booing began early Sunday afternoon and never let up, and Ronald Acuña Jr. collected every note of it like tribute. The reader will recall the feud from yesterday's columns: Saturday's 450-foot promenade, Wheeler's answering strikeout and his jab about men who round bases. Sunday brought the third act, and the trailing club wrote it. Atlanta stood four runs to one in arrears in the eighth — Nola and the Philadelphia bullpen having smothered all but Acuña's sixth-inning sacrifice fly, Hill and Schwarber having struck seventh-inning homers, the latter's his two-and-fortieth, the majors' leading count — when Acuña stood in against the young McFarlane with two aboard. The pitch arrived at better than a hundred miles to the hour; it departed considerably faster, 414 feet to left-center, and the account stood level at four. The man made a ceremony of the occasion: a trot of two-and-thirty seconds, the ears covered against the din, and then — the grandstand howling — a step atop the dugout stairs and a wave, the full curtain call, uninvited and unhurried.

"They boo me every time and I enjoy that," Acuña explained afterward, with the serenity of a man describing a favorite meal. "I love the fans from Philly because they boo me. So, that's motivation." The scorers append the sober column: four runs driven in on the day, and a fortnight's account of .500 hitting — seventeen safeties in four-and-thirty tries since the eight-and-twentieth of August — that has restored the man to full menace at the season's sharpest hour. His manager Weiss kept the summary brief: "The great ones rise to the occasion and that was huge." There remained the small matter of the winning run, and Austin Riley supplied it in the ninth, lining a sharp triple past the center fielder to cash Albies and turn four-all into the final verdict, the reliever Lee banking his sixth win without a defeat and Iglesias sealing his one-and-thirtieth save while the loss fell to Duran. Riley, asked about his teammate's eighth-inning thunder, testified like a man who had watched from the best seat: "To pull that to the left-center with authority, I mean that takes a special player."

The freight the game carried runs deeper than one afternoon's theatre. The verdict closes Atlanta's season account with Philadelphia at seven games to two — the series banked, and with it a tiebreaker of the first water — and holds the East's lead at five full games with twenty mornings left to the season's final page. For the Phillies the sting is doubled: level with Chicago in the loss column for the wild card's first chair, they surrendered a four-one lead at home to the one man their faithful most wanted silenced. The desk has read its Aesop and knows how this fable runs: the more Philadelphia boos him, the stronger he becomes — and the two clubs, by the schedule's mischief, are back at the same grounds at 1:05 this very afternoon.

News Around the League

THE MILESTONE DESK: FOUR HUNDRED SAVES FOR CHAPMAN — THE NINTH MAN THROUGH THAT DOOR, AND HE KNOCKED UPON IT AT A HUNDRED AND ONE MILES TO THE HOUR

The visitors' clubhouse at Camden Yards rang Sunday with a one-word chant — "Chappy! Chappy!" — and the man so serenaded had earned it in the manner of his whole career: a 101-mile heater past Encarnacion-Strand to end the ballgame, the four-hundredth save of Aroldis Chapman's life and his three-and-thirtieth of the season. He becomes the ninth reliever in the annals to reach the figure, joining a register that reads Rivera at 652, Hoffman at 601, Jansen, Smith, Kimbrel, Rodriguez, Franco, and Wagner — four of the eight already enshrined at Cooperstown. "There was a moment that I thought I wasn't going to be able to do it," Chapman admitted, and the desk certifies the doubt was honest: from 2022 through 2024 the great left-hander wandered through four clubs and a demotion from the closer's office, gathering but nine-and-twenty saves in three seasons, before Boston handed him the ninth inning again and he repaid the trust with two All-Star summers. He is eight-and-thirty years old; his sinker still averages eight-and-ninety miles to the hour; and earlier this season he passed Hoyt Wilhelm for the most strikeouts any reliever has ever collected. Asked whether he had saved something extra in the tank for the milestone pitch, the man was almost offended: "No, no, I just was focused on making a good pitch at that moment." The rookie who won the game put it best, as the card below relates: to be that elite, for that long, is a thing worth stepping back to watch.

THE CHASE CONCLUDED: CROW-ARMSTRONG'S FORTIETH ANSWERS THE QUESTION THIS DESK HAS ASKED ALL WEEK — AND POSES A GRANDER ONE IN ITS PLACE

The number this paper has carried at nine-and-thirty since Friday's masthead finally turned its digit. Pete Crow-Armstrong, batting in the fifth inning of a Miami afternoon that otherwise went badly for his club, drove a baseball 403 feet at a hundred and eleven miles to the hour — his fortieth home run of the season, a threshold no Cub had crossed since Derrek Lee's six-and-forty in 2005, and one only ten men in the franchise's long history have ever reached. He is the first left-handed Cub to do it since Billy Williams in 1970, and at four-and-twenty years of age his forty stand second on the club's ledger for that age to Ernie Banks's four-and-forty of 1955. "Forty home runs — it's a hard number to get to and not many guys ever get to it," ruled the manager Counsell, while the man himself kept the batsman's creed: "The thought is always just be ready to hit every pitch."

And now the grander arithmetic. Crow-Armstrong has stolen three-and-thirty bases; forty and forty in one season is a country only six men have ever visited; and the last to enter it at four-and-twenty or younger was one Ronald Acuña Jr. — the center fielder's boyhood hero, and, the reader will note with a smile, the very man conducting this morning's lead column. Seven thefts in twenty mornings is brisk work but not impossible work for the National's second-swiftest, and the desk hereby opens the new watch. The evening's fuller misfortunes stand in the card below; the milestone required its own column, and got it.

THE INFIRMARY WARD: THE GREAT OHTANI IS EXPECTED BACK THIS VERY EVENING, PERDOMO WALKS AWAY FROM A FEARFUL BLOW, AND THE WEEKEND FILES ITS INVALID PAPERS

The ward's most famous file may close tonight. Shohei Ohtani, absent from the Dodger order a fourth consecutive game Sunday, is expected back in the lineup this evening against Cincinnati — "My expectation is he'll be in the lineup tomorrow," said the manager Roberts, reporting the man came away well from Saturday's cage work. The bat returns; the arm, by every honest reading, does not. Ohtani has not thrown from a mound since the eight-and-twentieth of August, and Roberts declined the formality while conceding the fact: "Not officially. But obviously, if you're looking at the calendar, how much he's thrown in the last week, I think we can all do the math." The club's stated ambition is a man at his best for October, whatever uniform of duties he wears there.

Houston supplied Sunday's fright. Arizona's Geraldo Perdomo, running from first, took Ketel Marte's 93-mile line drive square off the helmet between the bases and fell where he stood; the yard went silent, Marte took a knee beside him, and then the shortstop sat up, gathered himself, and walked off to cheers under his own power. He avoided the concussion protocol entirely — "We feel like we dodged a bullet," said the manager Lovullo, who has him penciled in at shortstop for this afternoon's engagement in Kansas City. The weekend's paperwork ran heavier elsewhere: Baltimore committed Luis Robert Jr. to the ten-day invalid list with the left hamstring, Boston sent Ceddanne Rafaela there with a strained right quadriceps, Chicago's Pham followed with the calf, and the Dodgers shelved the young catcher Rushing with a sore right elbow. Kansas City's Jac Caglianone is stopped from throwing some days with a strained flexor in the left elbow, and the Cubs' Happ awaits this day's testing on a balky knee. Against all that, one bright appointment: Aaron Judge stands in against live pitching this very day in the Bronx, the last box before a return the club hopes to make during the homestand it opens tomorrow against Colorado. Swift knitting to every name above.

THE HERALD LOWERS ITS COLORS: JOE MORGAN, WHO TOOK HIS HOMETOWN NINE AT MIDSEASON AND GAVE NEW ENGLAND A SUMMER OF MAGIC, DIES AT FIVE-AND-NINETY

The Red Sox announced Sunday the death of Joe Morgan — the manager, not to be confused with the Hall of Fame second baseman of the same name — who died Saturday at five-and-ninety years of age. A baseball lifer of the deepest dye, Morgan was seven-and-fifty and coaching third base for Boston when the club handed him the manager's office on an interim basis at the All-Star break of 1988; whereupon the nine he had raised at Pawtucket won his first twelve games, nineteen of his first twenty, and nineteen straight at Fenway Park, a fortnight of delirium New England knows to this day as "Morgan Magic." The interim tag did not survive the month. His Red Sox took the American's East that season and again in 1990, and his ledger closed at 301 wins against 262 — along with a store of sayings the game still quotes, none finer than his answer to a crossed team captain: "I'm the manager of this nine!" Dismissed after 1991, he pronounced the roster overrated on his way out the door and was, as usual, proved right. "Joe took over in 1988 and gave New England a summer it would never forget," said the club's chairman Werner, and the principal owner Henry called his chapter one of the most memorable in the franchise's history. The Herald observes that few men ever loved the pastime longer, served it humbler, or named a ballclub better — a nine, managed by a man who talked like this paper writes. The colors are lowered, and the cap is doffed.

THE DEBUT DESK: FOUR PERFECT INNINGS FOR HJERPE IN THE MOUNTAINS, AND A SIX-O'CLOCK FLIGHT DELIVERS ARROYO TO HIS BEST FRIEND'S SIDE

Two young men made their first appearances Sunday, and both went home winners. In Denver the Cardinals summoned the left-hander Cooper Hjerpe, their first-round selection of 2022, from Memphis that very morning; handed a 5-1 deficit in the fourth inning of a Coors Field brawl, he retired every one of the twelve men he faced — four perfect innings, six strikeouts, four-and-fifty pitches — and was rewarded with the victory when his mates stormed back, as the card below relates. "It was unbelievable. It was a great experience, great debut. Can't get much better than that," said the debutant, whose manager Marmol reached for the clubhouse's highest register: "That was gross. Everything coming out of the hand was really good."

In Seattle the summons came by telephone, late Saturday night, and the voice on the line belonged to Lazaro Montes — called up himself only days ago, and now breaking the news to his good friend Michael Arroyo that they would be teammates in the majors. Arroyo, one-and-twenty years old and the organization's foremost hitting prospect, caught a six-o'clock morning flight from El Paso, reached the yard in time to bat eighth and play second base in flannels numbered ninety-six, and watched his new club win behind Woo's silences, as the card relates. "You never stop believing in yourself," he said through the club's interpreter. The two signed together in the international class of 2022; Montes offered to collect his friend at the airport and was told to rest instead — "we both have to give the best we can out here in the field." The desk notes that September calls up the future for fading clubs and contending ones alike, and that on Sunday the future acquitted itself splendidly in both time zones.

The Rest of the Card

AN INJURED BIRD IS CARRIED TO SAFETY, AND ITS RESCUER RETURNS TO STRIKE THE DECIDING BLOWS: QUEEN CITY NINE 12, CREAM CITY NINE 8

The fourth inning at Cincinnati was stopped for the smallest baserunner of the year: a wounded bird grounded near the mound, defeating the removal efforts of pitcher, umpire, and bat boy alike, until Elly De La Cruz emerged from the dugout, gathered the creature gently in his batting gloves, and bore it off to applause. "I saw the guys struggling with it, so I went out and got it," the shortstop-turned-designated-hitter shrugged — and then, mercy discharged, returned to the day's sterner business: a two-run homer in that same fourth, his three-and-twentieth, a go-ahead two-run double in the fifth, and four runs driven in altogether against the owners of the game's best ledger. "How about that? He does it all," ruled the manager Francona. Milwaukee clawed level at six by the fifth — Bauers homering, Turang driving in three — but Cincinnati's fourteen-hit assault, Brito and Rodríguez chipping three apiece, banked the club's first home series win over the Brewers since the May of 2022, Singer surviving six runs for the win and Pagán sealing his two-and-twentieth save. The Brewers' Central lead thins to seven over Chicago, and the same clubs part company at once — Milwaukee home to receive the Cubs at 2:10 this afternoon in a set with the division's whole argument inside it.

TWELVE STRIKEOUTS, ONE PUSH-UP, AND A FOUR-HUNDREDTH SAVE TO CROWN THE BROOM: CRIMSON HOSE 3, BIRDS 1

The rookie Payton Tolle gave Camden Yards an afternoon to remember him by: six innings, four hits, a dozen strikeouts without a walk, and — the crowd's favorite — a slip mid-windup against Alonso in the third that the three-and-twenty-year-old answered with an impromptu push-up on the mound. "That's the first time and that'll be the last time," he ruled afterward. "That's as many as I'm getting out." Eli White's three-run homer in the second supplied all the scoring Boston required, Baltimore's account beginning and ending with Encarnacion-Strand's first-inning ground-rule double, and the ninth belonged to history: Chapman's four-hundredth, sung at proper length in the milestone columns above. The broom is the story's frame — a four-game sweep, Boston's fourth straight win, the second wild-card chair held by six full games — while the Birds have now dropped six running and drift four from the last chair. The rookie winner's first words were for his closer: "To be that elite, for as long as he's been elite, it's cool to watch."

THE BOY FROM FULLERTON GROWS UP TO BLANK HIS BOYHOOD CLUB, AND ONE SWING OF THE CATCHER'S BAT DECIDES: ALLEGHENYS 1, ANGELS 0

The Sunday bill this paper advertised yesterday morning paid out in full, if not in runs. Paul Skenes, born in Fullerton and raised a die-hard Angel — he met Garret Anderson as a boy — took the hill against his childhood club for the first time in his life and gave it nothing: five and a third scoreless innings of four hits, the reigning National Cy Young winner grinding on a day the strikeouts would not come. "You can't prepare for the game as a fan," he said afterward of facing Trout. "It truly is an honor to compete against him." The game's entire scoring was Henry Davis's third-inning homer, his ninth; the sharpest moment came in the fifth, when Trout hammered one to the left-center gap and Neto, racing for home, was cut down on a relay from Cruz to Lowe to the plate. The beaten Ureña deserves his line in the ledger — eight innings entire on but eight-and-eighty pitches, a complete-game loss of genuine quality — while four Pittsburgh relievers closed the arrangement, Montgomery sealing his tenth save. It is the Alleghenys' fourth consecutive series won, and at one-and-seventy wins they sail for Chicago with their long-odds September still breathing.

THE FORTIETH ARRIVES IN A LOSING CAUSE, FOR THE FISH FEAST ON EVERYTHING ELSE: FISH 10, NORTH SIDERS 3

Chicago's consolation stands in the milestone columns above — Crow-Armstrong's fortieth, struck in the fifth to draw the game level at three — and Miami's answer to it was immediate and total: a five-run reply in the bottom of that same fifth, built on a hit batsman with the bases full, Owen Caissie's two-run single, and run-scoring knocks from Heriberto Hernández and the catcher Mack. Hernández had earlier struck his four-and-twentieth homer and finished with two driven in; Javier Sanoja closed the accounts with a two-run blast in the seventh; and Phillips carried the win. The Fish, three-and-forty wins against nine-and-twenty defeats at home, remain one of the season's quiet curiosities — a level club that plays like a contender in its own yard — while the North Siders, their three-game winning run snapped, hold the wild card's first chair by half a game over beaten Philadelphia and proceed to Milwaukee for the week's heaviest set.

A THIRD WALK-OFF IN A SINGLE SERIES, AND THE LAST CHAIR COMES HOME TO LAKE ERIE ALONE: LAKE ERIE MEN 3, MOTOR CITY NINE 2, IN TEN INNINGS

The weekend Cleveland began with two walk-offs in one Friday, and paused for Saturday's whitewashing at Greene's hands, ended precisely as the faithful now expect: Daniel Schneemann, lining a tenth-inning single to right to cash Genao, the first walk-off hit of his life and the club's seventh of the season — three of them inside this one four-game set, a thing no Cleveland nine had managed since the May of 2013. Detroit had struck first on Riley Greene's two-run double, the man's fine weekend continuing; Bazzana answered at once, Brayan Rocchio — Friday's twice-crowned hero — levelled it with a fifth-inning homer, and Gavin Williams struck out eleven Tigers, his eleventh start of ten strikeouts or better this season, the most in the majors. "We're right on the cusp," said the reliever Smith, who took the win. The arithmetic warms the words: with Toronto beaten in Kansas City, the American's last chair is Cleveland's alone again at three-and-seventy wins, one clear of the Jays, and the Central's leaders sit but two and a half ahead — with the Lake Erie men opening in Baltimore at 1:35 this afternoon. "The rest of the year feels like the postseason," ruled the manager Vogt, and on the weekend's evidence his club agrees.

BATY AND BICHETTE OVERTURN THE EIGHTH, AND SENGA LOCKS THE DOOR BEHIND THEM: METROPOLITANS 4, BAY NINE 2

San Francisco had carried a two-run account since the fourth, when Jung Hoo Lee singled home a pair, and was three outs from banking it when the eighth turned. Brett Baty, summoned from the bench, halved the deficit with his ninth homer; and before the inning was old Bo Bichette turned on a ball from the faltering Seymour and sent it to left-center with two aboard — his sixteenth, three runs, and the whole game reversed in the space of five batters. The winning pitcher, the desk notes with a smile, was Tobias Myers, recalled from Syracuse only that morning and in the books as a victor by nightfall, while Kodai Senga worked the ninth for his sixth save. The Metropolitans and the Bay nine play out September for pride and for 2027; on Sunday's evidence the pride, at least, is in working order. The clubs go their ways, New York to Miami for a 1:10 engagement this afternoon.

ARENADO ANSWERS ALVAREZ, THE BULLPEN HOLDS THE DOOR, AND THE CHAIR STAYS IN THE DESERT: SONORAN NINE 3, ASTROS 2

Houston's opening argument was formidable — Yordan Alvarez's first-inning blast, his eight-and-thirtieth, drawing him level with Tampa Bay's Caminero atop the American's home-run table while his batting figure and his five-and-ninety runs driven in already lead it, an arithmetic that spells out the grandest of crowns for those bold enough to say it — but Arizona had the fuller reply. McCann's sacrifice fly levelled it, Nolan Arenado struck a two-run homer in the third, his two-and-twentieth, and Eduardo Rodriguez carried the lead through six for his fifteenth victory against five defeats, four relievers walking the last nine outs home with Ginkel sealing it after Houston crept within one. The fright of the afternoon — Perdomo's fearful moment on the basepaths — stands in the ward above, happily resolved. The Sonoran nine have won two running and hold the National's last chair by half a game over San Diego; the Astros, twice beaten, keep the West by two over Texas and will not enjoy the morning's reading.

PASQUANTINO AND PEREZ SUPPLY THE THUNDER EARLY, AND TORONTO SLIPS BACK BELOW ITS WATERLINE: MISSOURIANS 6, JAYS 1

The level ledger Toronto celebrated in Saturday's columns lasted precisely one day. Under a six-and-ninety-degree Missouri sky, Vinnie Pasquantino opened the first inning with a three-run blast and Salvador Perez added a two-run copy in the third — the old catcher's nineteenth — and the Jays never assembled an answer beyond Josh Smith's sixth-inning homer, the journeyman Dobnak carrying the win while Arrighetti bore the loss. Loftin's run-scoring single closed the home club's accounts at six. The freight ran north: beaten, Toronto stands two-and-seventy wins against two-and-seventy defeats once more, and — Cleveland having walked off an hour earlier — surrenders its share of the American's last chair, falling one game astern with the tiebreaker still banked in its pocket. The Missourians, playing out their September with evident relish, thus spoil the visitors' bid for a sweep; the Jays fly west to open with the Athletics at 10:05 tonight, needing to make the arithmetic move again.

BURGER TWICE, SEAGER FOR THE SEAL, AND A FOUR-RUN HOLE CLIMBED OUT OF ENTIRE: ARLINGTON MEN 8, RAYS 6

Tampa Bay built a 4-0 second inning out of the smallest coinage — singles from Mesa and Díaz, a bunt hit from the catcher Fortes, a sacrifice fly — and watched Texas dismantle it with the largest. Jake Burger answered at once with his four-and-twentieth homer, added a two-run five-and-twentieth in the fourth, and finished with three driven in; Justin Foscue's two-run double levelled the account in that same fourth, run-scoring singles from Díaz and Duran turned it, and after DeLuca had drawn the visitors within one, Corey Seager sealed the verdict with an eighth-inning blast, his fifteenth. The reliever Williams took the win, Junis the save, and the loss fell to Matz. The Arlington men thus stay two from Cleveland's chair with their season still faintly lit; the Rays, beaten twice running now, hold the East by four over New York and may reflect that no lead has proved durable currency in Arlington this week.

FOUR DOWN IN THE FIFTH, SIX ACROSS IN REPLY — AND A DEBUTANT'S PERFECT AFTERNOON UNDERWRITES THE WHOLE ACCOUNT: GAS HOUSE NINE 10, COLORADANS 8

Colorado had the game by the collar at five runs to one, Mickey Moniak's three-run homer crowning a lead the mountain air seemed inclined to protect, when St. Louis answered with a six-run fifth of the roughest vintage: the rookie Bernal's two-run single, Joshua Báez's two-run knock behind an outfield error, and Nolan Gorman's two-run homer to center stacking the frame. Iván Herrera's two-run double and Burleson's single — that man's one-hundred-and-third run driven in, second in the National only to Cincinnati's Stewart — supplied the late insurance, and it was wanted: Jake McCarthy homered and then singled home two more in the ninth, three driven in on his day, before Soriano closed the door. The victory belongs, by the scorer's happy arithmetic, to Cooper Hjerpe, whose four perfect innings in his first hour as a major leaguer the debut desk above sings at length; Herget bore the loss. The Gas House nine stand restored to level at two-and-seventy apiece, four from the last chair — long odds, but a club that hits like this in Denver is at least never dull.

EIGHT SILENT INNINGS FROM WOO SNAP THE SKID, WITH THE NEWEST MARINER STATIONED AT SECOND BASE: PUGET SOUND MEN 2, ATHLETICS 0

Bryan Woo gave Seattle the outing its September had been begging for: eight scoreless innings on a hundred and two pitches, the Athletics held without a run until Muñoz closed the whitewashing for his five-and-twentieth save. The scoring was all one fourth inning — Cal Raleigh and J.P. Crawford lining consecutive run-scoring singles — and the afternoon's sentiment sat at second base, where the one-and-twenty-year-old Michael Arroyo, delivered by the morning flight the debut desk above chronicles, played his first major-league game in a winning cause. The Puget Sound men thus snap a three-game skid, though the season's larger account — three wins in the last ten — reads past mending; the Athletics, their own four-game run of mischief ended, hang the loss on Jump and return home to receive Toronto at 10:05 tonight.

THREE BATTERS, THREE BALLS OVER THREE DIFFERENT FENCES, AND THE GAME IS OLD BEFORE THE FIRST OUT: PADRES 4, HIGHLANDERS 3

The bill this paper advertised yesterday — Cole opposing King — was settled before Cole had recorded an out. Fernando Tatis Jr. lined the game's third pitch over the right-field fence; Jake Cronenworth followed with the first opposite-field homer of his four-and-eighty-homer life, a blast he suggested be sent "straight to the Hall of Fame"; and Manny Machado made it three in succession to center, his six-and-twentieth. The scorers certify the curiosity: only the twelfth time in the annals a game has opened with three straight homers — and Cole, remarkably, the only pitcher ever to suffer it twice, the first occasion four years back in Minnesota. "Against one of the best pitchers in the game, you don't really see that," observed Machado, accurately. Luis Campusano — whose midnight thunder against these same visitors decorated Friday's columns — added the seventh-inning homer that proved the difference when New York clawed three back in the eighth, Miller surviving for his three-and-thirtieth save behind King's ten victories. The Padres thus stay half a game from Arizona's chair; the Highlanders, still comfortably seated in the wild-card row's first chair, go home to receive Colorado and, they hope, their captain.

THE FRESHMEN CONDUCT THE ROUT — THREE DOUBLES FOR ANTONACCI, A THREE-RUN SEAL FOR TEEL: WHITE STOCKINGS 10, NORTH STARS 1

The first-place club's Sunday was a recital by its youngest members. Sam Antonacci struck three doubles and drove in two; Tristan Peters doubled twice; Kyle Teel closed the evening's accounts with a three-run blast, his third; and the veteran Grichuk, lending the children a hand, homered and drove in two besides, ten runs assembled while five Chicago pitchers passed the game around like a parlor dish, Smith taking the decision. Minnesota's whole reply was Brooks Lee's three-and-twentieth homer, the loss falling to Ober. The series is won, the Central's lead holds at two and a half over walk-off Cleveland, and the second seed's cushion stands at two over Houston — a September position built, the desk observes, on precisely the young shoulders Sunday put on display. The North Stars proceed to Detroit for a 3:10 engagement this afternoon; the White Stockings rest today and receive Pittsburgh tomorrow evening.

BETTS OVERTURNS THE EIGHTH, TUCKER ROBS IT BACK, AND THE BROOM COMES OUT AT CHAVEZ RAVINE: ANGELENOS 7, CAPITAL NINE 5

Washington gave the champions an honest fight — CJ Abrams's thirtieth homer, the catcher Ford's two-run double, and a hit-batsman run building a 5-4 account into the eighth — and the eighth belonged entirely to Los Angeles. Mookie Betts turned on a ball from the reliever Dion and sent it to left-center with two aboard, his eighteenth homer and his fourth run driven in of the night; minutes later Kyle Tucker, playing a treacherous wind, went up at the right-field wall to take a likely homer away from Ford — a ball the trackers say the gusts shoved eleven feet sideways in flight. "That could have been the difference in the ballgame," said the manager Roberts, arithmetically sound as ever. The win — a first of the season for the returned Bobby Miller, who retired six straight through the seventh and eighth — completes the sweep and runs the champions' streak to four, the West held by ten and a half; and the evening's true headline may be tomorrow's lineup card, where the ward above expects the great Ohtani's name restored. The Capital nine, four times beaten running, limp on to San Diego.

The tables on Labor Day morning — a holiday this paper keeps with conviction, believing as it does that the game's glory is manufactured by the men in spikes — read thus. In the American: Tampa Bay holds the East by four over New York, Boston six and a half astern; the White Sox keep the Central by two and a half over Cleveland, with a two-game cushion on the second seed over Houston; the Astros hold the West by two over Texas. The wild-card row: New York and Boston secure, and the last chair restored to Cleveland alone at three-and-seventy wins, Toronto one back with the tiebreaker pocketed, Texas two, Baltimore four. In the National: Atlanta by five over Philadelphia, the season's series now banked besides; Milwaukee by seven over Chicago; Los Angeles by ten and a half over Arizona — and the wild-card ledger reads Chicago's first chair by half a game over the Phillies, with the last chair Arizona's by half a game over San Diego, Miami and St. Louis four back. Today's bill is a proper holiday card of eleven engagements, seven of them by daylight, all verified against the schedule, and the desk directs the eye to five. At 1:05 the Braves and Phillies, blood still warm from yesterday's theatre, go directly back at it, Holmes opposing Luzardo; at 1:35 in Baltimore the walk-off Guardians open the defense of their reclaimed chair, Cantillo against Rogers; at 2:10 in Milwaukee the Cubs arrive seven back with the Central's whole argument on the table, Boyd opposing Gasser; at 2:10 in Kansas City the Sonoran nine press their half-game advantage with the mending Perdomo expected at shortstop; and at 9:10 in Los Angeles the night's crown jewel — Cincinnati sends Burns and his fifteen victories against the champions, with the great Ohtani expected back in the batting order at last. Twenty mornings remain to the season's final page on the seven-and-twentieth. Until the morrow's dispatch, keep your scorecards near and your enthusiasms nearer.

~ THE HERALD ~

The Herald Acknowledges Its Debts