Miguel Rojas revealing injury makes World Series heroics more historic for Dodgers

There’s a difference between delivering in October and etching your name into the sport’s permanent record. Miguel Rojas did the latter. Before the swing that silenced a stadium and flipped a narrative, he woke up on Nov. 1 barely able to lift his arm. The intercostal/rib flare-up he aggravated in the chaos of the Game 6 finish made the simple act of getting dressed feel like work. The Los Angeles Dodgers needed steady hands and a clear head in Game 7. Rojas had a few good ribs and a stubborn belief that he could still help win a championship.

By first pitch, the calculation shifted from survival to impact. Dave Roberts had already made a bet on “feel” the night before, starting Rojas at second base in Game 6 for the energy and defensive stability he brings even when the bat goes quiet. Rojas went hitless that night, then spent the morning trying to breathe through the pain. And yet, by the time the lights glared and the noise returned, he moved like a man who had already decided the season wasn’t ending on his watch.

The Miguel Rojas injury twist that elevates his World Series legacy with Dodgers

The payoff became baseball mythology in real time. In the top of the ninth of Game 7, Rojas delivered a game-tying home run, an “unbelievable, indescribable, long-dreamt-of” swing that felt both entirely unexpected and, given the way he carried himself, almost inevitable.

“A little speechless, a little bit shocked that we won this one,” he admitted afterwards to the Los Angeles Times, the understatement of a lifetime from a player who had just yanked a franchise away from the brink.

That blast didn’t live alone on the highlight reel. The choice to ride with Rojas for his glove and heartbeat proved clairvoyant all the way through the finale. He paired the ninth-inning moment with a crucial defensive play that steadied the Dodgers in the late innings, the kind of moment you barely remember because it prevented disaster rather than created fireworks.

Context matters, and that’s why the injury revelation deepens the legend. Rojas aggravated the intercostal/rib issue and still talked himself into “good enough” by game time. Not heroic in theory, but heroic in anatomy. The man who couldn’t comfortably raise his arm raised the Dodgers’ odds with one violent turn of the barrel.

Years from now, the box score will show a single line: game-tying home run, ninth inning, World Series Game 7. What it won’t show is the wince when he rolled out of bed, the careful breaths during batting practice, or the quiet between pitches when pain and purpose negotiated terms. That’s the difference between a highlight and a legacy. Rojas didn’t just save a season with one swing, he turned the most fragile day of his year into the most historic night of his career.