If you follow baseball closely enough to remember every pitch of a big game, you probably had the same reaction as Sam Coquillard and every other Dodgers fan on that wild November night: disbelief, adrenaline, and that strange quiet that sticks to you when you’ve just watched something historic unfold in real time. Back-to-back World Series titles don’t happen by accident, and the Dodgers didn’t just win one; they survived one of the most chaotic, punishing, heart-thumping Game 7s baseball has seen in decades.
And honestly, it felt like the kind of game you’ll still be recounting years later, the kind where you remember where you were sitting, who you texted between innings, and how your heart rate didn’t settle until well after the final double play snapped into Mookie Betts’ glove.
A Game 7 That Felt Like Its Own Season
There are Game 7s… and then there was this Game 7—four hours and seven minutes of pure emotional whiplash. Toronto controlled the story early. Shohei Ohtani came in on short rest, slider ready, only to have Bo Bichette crush a 442-foot three-run homer in the third inning. That shot wasn’t just long; it was the third-longest of Bichette’s career, and the second-longest Ohtani has ever given up. For a moment, you could feel the stadium leaning toward a different ending.
Max Scherzer, all 41 years of him, did his part for Toronto, bending without breaking, and their defense backed him up like a team ready to claim its first Canadian crown in a generation. Daulton Varsho’s diving grab and Guerrero Jr.’s pick at first were the kind of plays that make you mutter, “Okay… they came to win this.”
But Game 7s are never decided early. Especially not for a team that’s built a reputation on surviving the long burn of October.
Momentum, Tension, and That Rojas Moment
What made this game unforgettable wasn’t just the score; it was the constant emotional tug-of-war. Benches cleared in the fourth when Andrés Giménez got plunked after three up-and-in pitches. That jolt of tension hung in the air for the rest of the night.
Toronto added insurance with Giménez’s RBI double in the sixth, stretching it to 4–2. And then the Dodgers chipped away. Max Muncy launched a splitter over right in the eighth to bring it to 4–3, and that’s when every Dodgers fan sat up straighter.
By the ninth inning, Toronto handed the ball to Jeff Hoffman for a four-out save attempt. He got one out… then another… and then Miguel Rojas, of all people, worked him into a full count. You don’t expect the 36-year-old part-timer to rewrite a World Series, but baseball doesn’t care about expectations. Rojas turned on a slider down and in, sent it to leave, and the crowd groaned as the scoreboard flashed 4–4.
One swing. One pitch. A whole new game.
Then Yamamoto Happened
Blake Snell struggled in relief, and suddenly Toronto had the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth. That’s when Dave Roberts pulled a card that will be talked about for years, bringing in Yoshinobu Yamamoto on zero days’ rest.
The guy had already won Games 2 and 6, warmed up late in Game 3, and here he was again… because that’s what legends do in October.
He hit Kirk to load the bases but then forced a grounder to Rojas for a force at home. Andy Pages made a collision catch to end the inning. The stadium held its breath. Because somehow, some way, Yamamoto kept the Dodgers alive.
The game drifted into extras, which honestly felt inevitable.
History in the 11th
Toronto’s Seranthony Domínguez got out of a bases-loaded jam in the 10th. Yamamoto answered with a quiet frame of his own. Then came the 11th, and Toronto handed the ball to Shane Bieber.
He retired two straight.
Then he hung up a slider.
And Will Smith didn’t just hit it, he carved out a new page in World Series history. The first extra-inning home run in a winner-take-all Game 7. One swing that silenced Toronto and sent every Dodgers fan into a jump-and-yell moment they’ll remember forever.
In the bottom of the 11th, Toronto still had life. Guerrero doubled. A sac bunt moved him to third. Barger walked. The stadium stood.
But Yamamoto didn’t blink.
Kirk grounded the Betts. Betts stepped on second. Fired to first.
Double play.
Game over.
Back-to-back titles secured.
What Back-to-Back Really Says About This Team
There’s a reason this win feels bigger than just another championship banner. Baseball isn’t built for repeat champs anymore. Expanded postseason pools, deeper bullpens, analytics-driven adjustments; everything about the modern game makes sustained dominance nearly impossible.
Yet here they were, the Dodgers, winning their third title in six seasons and becoming the first MLB team since the 1998–2000 Yankees to repeat.
This wasn’t luck.
It wasn’t momentum.
It was identity.
A team that sleepwalked through parts of the regular season turned into a machine when October arrived. A team loaded with stars still relied on role players; Rojas, Pages, Hernández —at the biggest moments. A team that had expectations on its back walked straight into the storm and still came out swinging.
Dodgers manager Dave Roberts said it best:
“It’s going to go down as one for the ages.”
He isn’t wrong. This wasn’t just a championship. It was a statement.
Back-to-back champs aren’t just good; they’re a dynasty in motion.