‘It Still Haunts Them’: John Schneider Exposes the Turning Points That Cost the Dodgers the World Series.NL
John Schneider Breaks Silence on Three Shocking Moments That Changed Everything for the Dodgers, Costing Them the World Series in Heartbreaking Fashion
TORONTO – In the dim glow of a Rogers Centre press conference room, Toronto Blue Jays manager John Schneider finally let the words spill out. It had been nine days since the final out of the 2025 World Series, a 5-4 Dodgers victory in 11 gut-wrenching innings that etched itself into baseball lore as both a triumph and a tragedy. For the Jays, it was a dagger – their first pennant in a generation slipping away in the cruelest fashion. For Schneider, the 45-year-old tactician who engineered a 94-win miracle from a 74-win disaster the year before, it was personal. He had stared down the defending champions, pushed them to the brink, and watched his squad’s Cinderella story unravel in three seismic blunders that, in his mind, handed Los Angeles the trophy on a silver platter.
Schneider, his voice steady but laced with the raw edge of regret, broke his self-imposed silence on Tuesday. “We didn’t lose that series,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the reporters before him. “We gave it away. Three moments – three godforsaken, inexplicable moments – where we had them right where we wanted, and we let it slip. The Dodgers are beasts, don’t get me wrong. But those calls, those decisions… they changed everything.” His words hung heavy, a cathartic release after a week of locker-room huddles and quiet reflection. The Blue Jays had been the underdogs no one saw coming, storming through the AL East with a blend of veteran grit and breakout youth. Vladimir Guerrero Jr. mashed 42 homers. Bo Bichette, battling through a leg injury that left him hobbling, delivered clutch hits in four of seven games. And rookies like Addison Barger authored history with the first pinch-hit grand slam in World Series annals. Yet, for all their heroics, Schneider’s autopsy zeroed in on the what-ifs.
The first shock came in Game 3 at Dodger Stadium, a marathon that stretched to 18 innings and tested the limits of human endurance. The Jays, up 2-1 in the series after a dominant 11-4 rout in Game 2, carried a 3-2 lead into the late frames. Their bullpen, anchored by the unflappable Jeff Hoffman, had silenced the Dodgers’ star-studded lineup – Shohei Ohtani, Mookie Betts, Freddie Freeman – for stretches that felt eternal. Then, in the bottom of the 17th, disaster struck. With runners on the corners and two outs, Toronto reliever Trevor Richards fielded a comebacker from Tommy Edman. Instead of throwing to first for the easy double play, Richards hesitated, glancing toward home plate where Daulton Varsho loomed as a potential tag play. The ball squirted away, allowing the tying run to score. Chaos ensued: a review overturned what seemed like an out call on Varsho, and suddenly, the Dodgers had new life. “That hesitation,” Schneider recounted, his fist clenching involuntarily. “We had the out. Richards is one of our steadiest arms, but in that split-second freeze, we gifted them extra outs. They walk it off two innings later on Freeman’s bomb. If we convert that, series is 3-0. Period.”
The wound from Game 3 festered, but it was the umpiring debacle in Game 4 that truly ignited Schneider’s fire. Trailing 2-1 in the series after the Dodgers’ epic comeback, Toronto clung to a 4-3 lead in the eighth. Guerrero Jr. had just crushed a two-run shot off Yoshinobu Yamamoto, the Japanese import whose unhittable splitter had baffled hitters all postseason. The stadium buzzed with Jays fans daring to dream of a sweep. Enter home plate umpire Jordan Baker and a pitch to George Springer with two strikes and a runner on second. The slider caught the corner – low and away, a textbook strike by any measure. But Baker’s call? Ball. Springer fouled off the next two, working a walk that loaded the bases. Betts followed with a bases-clearing double, flipping the game on its head. Replays later confirmed the blown call, sparking a heated dugout argument from Schneider that nearly earned him an ejection. “Deliberate,” he spat now, echoing his postgame fury. “That wasn’t a judgment error; it was a delay that killed our momentum. We had Yamamoto on the ropes – his velocity was dipping, his command fraying. One strike call, and it’s 5-3. Instead, they tie it, then win on Ohtani’s laser in the 10th. Umpiring isn’t perfect, but that? That swung the series back to them.”
If those were body blows, the knockout landed in Game 7, the decider that will be dissected for decades. The Rogers Centre, a sea of red and white, roared as the Jays built a 4-2 cushion behind Max Scherzer’s vintage gem – the 41-year-old fireballer scattering seven hits over six frames, his fastball touching 96 mph like it was 2019 again. Hoffman entered the ninth for the save, two outs away from glory. Then, the unthinkable: Miguel Rojas, the Dodgers’ light-hitting utility man batting .212 in the regular season, uncoils on a full-count slider. The ball sails into the left-field seats, tying the game at 4-4 and sending shockwaves through the crowd. Schneider’s face twisted in disbelief as he yanked Hoffman, but the damage was done. Extra innings dragged on, culminating in Will Smith’s walk-off homer off Shane Bieber in the 11th – the first extra-inning long ball to decide a winner-take-all World Series game since 1925.
“That pitch to Rojas,” Schneider said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Hoffman had struck out the side in the ALCS clincher, owned the Dodgers in Games 2 and 5. But we left that slider hanging – belt-high, middle-in. It wasn’t just a mistake; it was the moment we folded. We led that game wire-to-wire until then. One clean pitch, and we’re champions for the first time since ’93. Instead, it goes to extras, and the ghosts of close calls haunt us again.” Schneider paused, rubbing his temples. The locker room afterward had been a tomb – tears streaming down Bichette’s face, Guerrero hugging Scherzer like a brother, Barger staring blankly at his grand-slam bat. In their postgame huddle, Schneider’s message was simple: “Thank you.” No blame, just gratitude for a run that exceeded expectations.
Yet, as the offseason looms, Schneider’s candor carries a sharper edge. The Blue Jays exercised his option for 2026 last week, a vote of confidence in the man who forged this “Glue Jays” brotherhood from castoffs and call-ups. Free agency beckons for Springer and Scherzer, but core pieces like Guerrero and Bichette anchor the future. “It stings,” Schneider admitted. “We’ll hurt for weeks, maybe months. But baseball goes on. Spring training’s in February, and we’ll be hungrier. Those three moments? They’re fuel now.” Outside, Toronto’s skyline glittered under a November chill, a reminder that heartbreak here breeds resilience. The Dodgers may hoist the Commissioner’s Trophy in parade confetti, but Schneider’s Jays? They’ve awakened a giant. Next October, the script flips – and this time, no shocking slips will cost them the crown.
