Barb Caffrey's Blog

Folks, I knew that there would be an inundation of articles after the Milwaukee Brewers won the World Series. How could it be any other way? National pundits didn’t know what to make of the Brewers, and most of them believed they’d not make it this far, solely because they hadn’t done so before. There were several Brewers teams since 2008 that nearly got to the World Series, including last year’s team, and a few others that got to the playoffs but were bounced out pretty quickly.

But that’s not really what I want to talk about.

See, the Brewers, to me at least, have always symbolized hard work, effort, and in many ways, excellence. Yes, they had some terrible teams now and again. They really did. But there was always someone, or maybe multiple someones, who exceeded expectations. There were stories, every year, of interesting players who’d worked their butts off to get to “The Show” (as MLB is often called), and always players to root for, whether they were well-known or not.

The Brewers also symbolized the idea that Goliath can be slain by David. Whether it was the Brewers in the American League defeating teams like the New York Yankees or the then-California Angels, or this year’s squad dealing with the Los Angeles Dodgers, the Brewers were always the underdog.

Always.

That one thing didn’t change all these years. Pitchers and their repertoires changed, what type of bats were allowed also changed, “the shift” came and went, pitch timers came in, along with catchers directly talking with pitchers via the pitch-comm…yet despite all that high-profile stuff, the Brewers remained plucky underdogs.

It didn’t matter what happened outside in the rest of the world, you see, because you could go to old Milwaukee County Stadium, then to Miller Park, then to the officially renamed American Family Field, and you’d see something. A team, playing its best ball, whether its best ball was last in the division or first; a team that realized it was more than just the sum of its parts; a team that pulled together and picked one another up when someone fell short of the mark and needed help.

In the late 1970s, when I was quite young, I remember seeing “Bambi’s Bombers” (named after manager George Bamberger on the one hand, and the hard-slugging Brewers on the other). We had a great right fielder named Sixto Lezcano, who hit homers, won a Gold Glove because of his excellent fielding, and the team was fun to watch overall. Of course, Robin Yount was already there, and was the face of the franchise, and rightfully so: Robin was a great player who could do anything needed — hit, run, field well, whether at shortstop or, later, in center field.

Sixto was traded away, which was frustrating for me as a young fan. But I had other players I really gravitated toward, like Charlie Moore, as unselfish a player as I’d ever seen in many ways. The team was fun to watch and I enjoyed the games immensely.

In the early 1980s, the Brewers as a team were tight-knit, unselfish, and colorful. They were personalities, yes, but they also scanned as real people.

I loved the 1982 team. They had so many excellent players, plus the team-first concept, plus all the color and life and interest that any young fan could’ve wished. They came up just short of winning the World Series, losing in seven games. I remain convinced that if Rollie Fingers hadn’t been injured late in the season, the Brewers would’ve won their first World Series right then and there…but that did not happen.

However, the 1982 team’s spiritual successor, in many ways, was this 2026 Brewers team. The players make more money on average now, yes. (That’s undeniable.) But they played hard-nosed, team-first, interesting baseball, and excelled at running, pitching, defense, and hitting (though not necessarily in homers).

This is partially why those of us in Wisconsin and elsewhere who followed the Brewers year-in, year-out, kind of went nuts for a while (in a good way) after the Brewers finally won it all this year. The gratification was delayed for 44 years. Some integral members of the ’82 team, like Hall of Fame pitcher Don Sutton, reliever Pete Ladd, and of course my favorite player ever, Charlie Moore, had all passed away before this could happen. And as has been well chronicled elsewhere, our Hall of Fame broadcaster, Bob Uecker, died in early 2025, so he didn’t live to see it either.

On a personal level, it was weird for me to watch the Brewers finally win it. My father died three years ago, talking about how much he wanted to see Jackson Chourio come into his own, and about the young pitchers the Brewers had that looked so promising…I think he’d have enjoyed watching this team play.

But of course, as a long-term baseball fan myself, there were many things I enjoyed about this year’s team. Abner Uribe, the Brewers reliever, remains my favorite current Brewers player. (The baseball writers in Milwaukee named him the team’s “unsung hero” recently and I couldn’t agree more.) Aaron Ashby had a tremendous season as a reliever and arguably deserved the MVP of both the National League Championship Series and the World Series as much as Jake Bauers (who won the NLCS MVP) or William Contreras (the World Series MVP). I was happy that Brandon Lockridge was able to come back from a bad injury, I worried about Sal Frelick as I knew even after he was reinstated from the injured list that he wasn’t healthy, and of course I was very pleased with the play of Contreras, Bauers, Chourio, and Brice Turang (an unexpected, but welcome, finalist for the National League’s MVP award for the entirety of the 2026 season). Plus, watching “the Miz” (Jacob Misiorowski), Logan Henderson, Robert Gasser, etc., come into their own as pitchers was just incredibly gratifying. And it’s impossible to say enough about the Brewers relievers, as they were great all year long…Trevor Megill had another fine season as the Brewers closer, too.

I know baseball is just a game. A pastime. Ultimately, who wins, who loses, isn’t as important as how you play the game, or what you do after the game to prepare for the next one. It’s great when your team wins. (No lie.) But it’s also great when your team plays its heart out but still loses, because they did their best. There’s no shame in that.

In life, we take a lot of losses of various sorts. That’s partly why we learn to savor the rare victories.

In my opinion, that’s why over 750,000 people packed Milwaukee and its environs, coming from all over the state of Wisconsin and elsewhere, to celebrate the Brewers World Series victory last week. Yes, we fans wanted to celebrate a great team. Yes, we wanted to show everyone else that those of us in Wisconsin know how to have fun. And yes, we wanted our heroes to know that we loved what they did, just as an estimated 50,000 people packed Milwaukee’s downtown even after the ’82 Brewers lost the World Series.

What I saw last week in all the celebrations was a type of catharsis. Sometimes, we all need that.

All of that said, for whatever reason — possibly grief due to losing Mom’s sweet little dog Bratty — I did not truly feel part of the celebrations. I enjoyed watching them, yes. I thought the team was excellent, yes. It was good that the Brewers finally won the World Series, yes.

But I wish that Dad had been here to see it, that Uecker had been here to call it, and that Bratty had been here to let me pet her while Mom and I high-fived each other at a homer or an excellent play.