ARLINGTON, Texas — In a clubhouse of 28 voices, the Rays need only one before Game 6.
One player, one message, one truth. One teammate to stand before the rest and remind them who they are, and what they have done.
As much as the baseball-loving world likes to portray them as the sole creation of the forward thinkers in the front office, these Rays did not reach the sixth game of the World Series because they led the league in algorithms.
They are here because a handful of stars, a collection of role players and a small band of misfits came together three months ago to form the most confounding American League championship team most of us have ever seen.
They play without ego, and without jealousy. During the postseason, they have started four different first basemen, three third basemen, three rightfielders and three leftfielders. They've had six cleanup hitters and six leadoff hitters.
And, as far as anyone can tell, zero complaints.
This is not normal. Not outside of your 12-year-old's Little League team. In a world where playing time equals money, and self-worth is tied to fame, the players in this clubhouse have chosen unity ahead of mutiny.
They need to be reminded that this is their 20th postseason game and no MLB team has ever played so many in one calendar year. That's partially because the wild-card round was expanded this year, but it's also because these Rays have been tested every step of the way.
No matter what their regular-season record was, they were not going to roll past anyone this postseason. They are built to win, not to crush. They don't have Giancarlo Stanton and Gerrit Cole. They don't have Jose Altuve and Zack Greinke. They don't have Mookie Betts and Clayton Kershaw. There is one player on this roster who has made multiple All-Star Games, and Charlie Morton tops out at two.
And yet, on Oct. 27, the team with the 28th-largest payroll in baseball is still alive.
They need to be reminded that they are here because of Austin Meadows. Yes, the guy who is batting .125 this postseason and is no longer a fixture in the starting lineup hit the home run in Game 5 of the ALDS that later set up Mike Brosseau's heroics.
They are here because of Willy Adames. Yes, he is hitting .145 in October and hasn't belted a home run in 22 games, but you would never know it from the way he leaps up the dugout steps and greets every teammate with an enthusiasm that cannot be faked.
They are here because of Brett Phillips and Ryan Thompson. Because of Michael Perez and John Curtiss. They are here because they decided long ago that anyone putting on a Tampa Bay uniform was every bit as important as the guy in the next locker.
They need to be reminded that while it's easy and natural to view their matchup with the Dodgers as some sort of David-and-Goliath tale, they have never needed that motivation. The Rays don't play with chips on their shoulders, they play with passion in their souls.
Of course, it's entirely possible they have reached the end of the road. They may not make it past Game 6, let alone Game 7. The competition has grown tougher and tougher, and their collective talents have been stretched more and more taut. They have lost six of their last nine games and have not won two in a row since Oct. 12-13.
And they have faced the prospect of going home before. Quite a few times in the past 13 months. There was the wild-card game in Oakland last year. Games 3, 4 and 5 of the American League Division Series against Houston in 2019. Game 5 against the Yankees earlier this month, and Game 7 against the Astros just more than a week ago. The Rays are 5-1 in those games.
Maybe that's just a small sample of games, and it means nothing in a larger context. Or maybe it says something specific about the culture of perseverance, faith and diverse talent in this clubhouse.
Odds are, some of these guys will not be around next year. It's the reality of 21st century baseball, but it's also the necessity of a team that needs to constantly reinvent itself to stay one step ahead of the richer competition.
So, before they step on the field for Game 6, they should think about that, too. This is quite possibly the last time this particular group of players will ever be together. It's a somber thought, but one day it will also be recalled with great wonder and joy.
Because what this team did the past 29 days was usually delightful, often inspirational and always remarkable.
Somebody should remind them of that.
