The sound was so organic and spontaneous that it caught me off guard. How had I just produced that exultation, high-pitched and celebratory? My cry hung in the air long enough for Nick Fortes to plate the winning run. Ben Williamson’s Tropicana Chop had bounded over the Brewers infield, ending Game 4 of the World Series and keeping the Rays’ World Series dreams alive.
Baseball season would live another day.
Seasonal affective disorder has been lurking. With a return to standard time on deck, darkness will visit Major League cities as an offseason of discontent begins. But it’s not simply the shorter days that get me down; it’s the end of a baseball season. In fact, I’m prepared to barter with the gods: sunlight for baseball. With sunsets slated for sometime in the 4 o’clock hour, I’d exchange even more daylight for a return of the boys of summer. Maybe we can work it in the new Collective Bargaining Agreement.
Back to Game 4.
This World Series underscored how teams no longer invest in depth. Bench options of most playoff teams were lean, generally inexpensive, and lacking offensive thump. In defense of many of these players and organizations, October was a month where good pitching beat good hitting. There was no vice versa.
As Game 4 unfolded, Rays starting second baseman and left-handed hitter Richie Palacios was allowed to face two different southpaw relievers, JoJo Romero and DL Hall. Neither situation was incredibly high leverage, but the score was tied each time and the latter at-bat led off the bottom of the eighth.
I kept checking the players remaining on the Tampa Bay bench: two left-handed hitters, a backup catcher, and Jorge Mateo reserved for pinch running duties. The logical right-handed option was infielder Ben Williamson.
The former second-round pick of the Mariners was one-for-October over 17 plate appearances, and his two walks had come early in the ALCS. I sent a few texts, asking scouts who may have seen Williamson for an offensive assessment of the player.
Prior to the 2026 season, the Rays parted with a second-rounder of their own, Colton Ledbetter (great baseball name), and a draft pick in order to acquire Williamson. I imagine it was his defensive versatility that appealed to Tampa.
As I waited to hear back about Williamson’s bat, I realized I already had an answer. Palacios and his two fruitless at-bats against lefties told us all we needed to know. Even the platoon advantage — Williamson’s right-handed bat against Milwaukee’s lefties — wasn’t enough to convince Kevin Cash to make a move.
So it was only right when Victor Mesa Jr. was called back in the 12th inning, and the Rays emptied their bench. Who better to face Brewers’ lefty Shane Drohan with the bases loaded and nobody out than Williamson?
You know how it went from there. Williamson attacked the first pitch, a 96 MPH fastball, and pounded it hard into the ground. According to Statcast, the ball traveled seven feet before impacting the turf and releasing magical Trop dust.
The season would live for one more day.
The Brew Crew
I’ve written about my complicated relationship with the Milwaukee Brewers before. The scars from 2011 remain. But my happiness for a handful for friends with the Brewers supersedes old emotions.
The first story ever written in this space included a mention of the current Brewers president of baseball operations. In 2015, Matt Arnold was the director of pro scouting of the Rays, and I was a free agent, my time with the D-backs having recently ended. Arnold hired me to scout. I spent much of that season along the east coast, evaluating minor leaguers for Tampa. Once a month, Arnold and I would have an hour-long conversation. We talked about players I had seen, the evolving needs of the club, and experiences each of us had along the way — both recent and more distant. The conversations were fun and challenging; I always hung up with a sharpened focus.
Earlier this week, Arnold became a World Series champion. While he’d quickly deflect praise, he deserves enormous credit for leading the franchise to their first title, navigating myriad challenges along the way. I’m thrilled for him and for my other friends — mentors and former colleagues, all of whom I’ve shared meals and drinks with over the years — within the Brewers organization.
Congratulations, Milwaukee.