Giants survive ninth-inning scare and power their way to two-game advantage in Fall Classic
The World Series tilted and whirled under a hard autumn sky, and this time the bats woke up on both sides of the bay breeze—until the Giants seized the final word, 5–4, to hold serve at home and take a two-games-to-none lead in a series that already feels carved from bedrock. Game 2 was baseball’s pendulum: towering swings, tight corners, and a late chill that made every hop look tricky and every mistake loom large.
The Giants didn’t wait for the drama to find them, stamping the night with a multi-homer salvo that set Candlestick into a rumble; Kerry Carpenter and Mike Trout each left their signatures on the evening with no-doubt shots that turned careful at-bats into instant electricity. Francisco Lindor’s table-setting and Kyle Tucker’s lift through the gaps gave those swings a spine, while Daulton Varsho’s extra-base thump kept the Reds stretched thin from alley to alley. By the middle frames, San Francisco had stacked five runs on five hits—lean production, every one of them barbed.
Dylan Cease pitched with purpose and edge, striking out a dozen in eight innings, punctuating rallies with high-wire fastballs and a breaking ball that fell off a ledge. He scattered six hits and two walks, and though the Reds nicked him with long balls, Cease’s poise after contact kept the Giants perpetually a step ahead when the traffic got loud. Tyler Holton absorbed the ninth’s noise for the save, allowing two runs but slamming the door before the tying knock could clear the infield dust.
Cincinnati answered with their own thunderclaps—Pete Alonso opened the ledger with a first-inning home run, and Gunnar Henderson belted another in the ninth to inflict anxiety on the hime dugout. Juan Soto reached and stirred, Shohei Ohtani and Bobby Witt put the ball in play with hostile intent, and Henderson also roped a double that split the outfield like a seam in canvas. The Reds piled eight hits and pushed four across, a stubborn effort that kept the Giants’ crowd shifting in their seats to the final out.
Trevor Williams gave Cincinnati seven sturdy innings, surrendering five earned on eight hits but denying the avalanche when the game threatened to spill over. He struck out six against two walks and held the middle third together long enough for the Reds to climb back within a swing, a small victory on a night when San Francisco’s barrels found their marks. Hunter Gaddis shouldered a clean eighth to preserve the last chance, the kind of quiet frame that often becomes a footnote if the final rally lands.
San Francisco’s pair of sacrifice flies from the middle of the order—Trout and Julio Rodríguez bending at-bats toward run creation—proved just as vital as the early light-tower work, the classic October exchange of power for placement when the count demanded humility. A double-play ball snuffed one Reds spark and a deep out with runners moving became Cease’s best friend, those small choices in pitch and approach making the difference between chaos and control.
The ninth unraveled like a courtroom verdict read too slowly—Alonso’s second blast cut the edge to one and turned every seatback into a grip handle. Holton, unblinking, took the ball, took a breath, and took the game, and when the last grounder found leather, the Giants had what they came for: a 5–4 win, and a 2–0 series cushion.
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