Yasiel Puig of the Dodgers made his way to the World Series

MILWAUKEE – Yasiel Puig shot in the sky. Again.

Then he stormed the sky.

Then he shattered into the sky.

He flipped the bat and shouted, then cycled back, bowed in front of the crowd and stirred his tongue.

While shooting in the sky. Again.

A show that could only be him. Open the roof, he needs more sky.

It's a funny thing about Yasiel Puig. He seems to believe that the world sometimes has the duty to turn around him. Sometimes, not always, it's the big world. But above all, it's this little world, the one in blue, where men can be boys a few hours at a time. Together. Then he can be him. They can be them. It fits or is close enough to the equipment to avoid losing occasional space.

Maybe it says more about them, about their generosity, than about him. Maybe he just used them. It can be a lot.

On his way to the World Series, a few hours before they all jump on a plane to Boston, shortly after hitting the race at home that made the background of the seventh game of the National League series, a scream scream, "No questions today! No questions! See you in Boston!

And he was gone, sliding into the puddles of life.

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You see, the world – the big one, the little one – also cooperates. He can not stop watching. He can not help but pant in front of the ball-shaped ball that he pulled out of Jeremy Jeffress' hand, a pretty good curve ball, and passed over the fence of the center field. Always out of the way. How, in the biggest game played by the Los Angeles Dodgers in 11 days, he also distinguished himself. He also doubled. How, in seven games, he would have accumulated more total bases than any of them. How he hit 0.333. How had he almost finished the Milwaukee Brewers with that one move, one shot, rolled up and waiting for more.

A few hours after the first snow of the season swept the city center here and a cold hard wind that planted trees and party tents not moored between beer trucks, the Dodgers completed the Brewers. Because of the rookie, Walker Buehler, who has achieved the first 4 2/3 innings. Because of the veteran, Ryan Madson, who helped them get to the other side of Josh Hader. Because Cody Bellinger, the most useful player in the series, hit the mark, and Manny Machado played for one and juggled his manhood in front of the crowd. and Clayton Kershaw took it from the rest of the way and raised his arms.

And then Puig sang 360 feet. Ask for thanks. To blush. Call the cops. Cross. Hit his own forehead. Everything but the eyes. Nobody looks elsewhere.

"There are times," said baseball operations president Andrew Friedman, "he can be frustrating with Puig, but his talent is as good as he gets."

Outside, it was the football season.

Inside, they were preparing for agony, promised themselves ecstasy. Had another beer to cover the intermediate parts.

A playoff game is one thing, a seventh game, and people clung to the normal, routine, to kill time and delay the inevitable. The Brewers players arrived in their own car or in the back of someone else, they took the scooters out of the chests and drove them up to the clubhouse. That seems like a thing here. The gentleman who sings "God Bless America" ​​many nights at Miller Park, finishing the final notes with a pithy salute, slips into a corridor in working clothes. In a bag, he was wearing his singing outfit. The batting cage in front of the Brewers' Pavilion vibrated with the usual music on Saturday afternoon, T.I. and Justin Timberlake. The Dodgers players arrived on a bus, their families – wives, children, friends, friends – a few hours later. They had packed their bags for Milwaukee and Boston, claiming that all this was normal, which they all expected, two games here, two games a little further east, what October looks like. The first game of the world series is Tuesday.

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