The Big Blue Empire crumbled in the most stunning of ways: Los Angeles was leading at home, with Dodger Stadium at ear-splitting decibels, six outs away from eliminating the Washington Nationals. 사설토토

Clayton Kershaw, whose postseason ghosts will torment him for the rest of his life, threw six pitches. Two landed for home runs. Then the bullpen—well, namely, Joe Kelly—went into full-on collapse mode.

It was swift, it was horrendously ugly, and it was final: Washington 7, Dodgers 3. Game 5, set, match.

"Everything people say is true right now about the postseason," said Kershaw, whose career postseason numbers now are 9-11 with a 4.43 ERA over 31 appearances, 25 starts. "I understand that. It's a terrible feeling."

Kershaw took full responsibility for this latest dagger. "I let down the guys in this clubhouse," he said. "That's the hardest part every year when you lose the last game of the season. When you're to blame for it.

"It's not fun. It's a terrible feeling. I had one job to do, to get three outs. And I got one, and it cost us the game right there."

It was just six days earlier, before Game 1 of this series, when he so eloquently spoke of the fleeting concept of time in this game, of missed opportunities and the ever-present chance at redemption.

"Every year that you make the postseason, you realize that it's one less year on your career, one less year that you have a chance to win," he said. "So you become more grateful and more appreciative every single time you get a chance to win a World Series."

It was either a false sense of security, or a false sense of entitlement. Maybe both.

In the clubhouse, there were red eyes and hushed voices. It was as if nobody could believe what had just happened.