There’s a strange emotional truce that happens when a championship turns on one bad pitch. Even the winning side can’t help but look across the diamond and see a human being shouldering something no one is built to carry alone. That was the scene after Game 7, when Blue Jays closer Jeff Hoffman walked into the scrum and didn’t duck or deflect. He wore the moment. He owned it. And a slice of Dodgers fandom, fresh off a second straight title, felt that weight with him.
Baseball can be mercilessly specific. It narrows a seven-month grind into one swing, one count, one mistake that gets replayed forever.