Ah, baseball playoffs—there’s just something about them that pulls you in, even if you haven't followed the whole season. The tension, the drama, the possibility of seeing a nail-biter finish on a chilly October evening. Now, with the Mariners facing off against the Blue Jays in a decisive Game 7, folks are scrambling to figure out how to catch the action without emptying their wallets or fiddling endlessly with fancy tech that's more complicated than my old VCR.

Back in my day, tuning in to a baseball game was as simple as turning a dial or clicking a button on the remote. You knew where your game would be, and you didn’t have to jump through hoop after hoop to watch it. Now, streaming services, geo-restrictions, subscription plans, and whatnot have turned watching a ballgame into something that requires a computer science degree. And while I’m slow to jump on the tech bandwagon, I can’t help but think this digital juggling act is a bit much for what should be a simple pleasure.

Still, I can appreciate folks wanting to watch this exciting matchup for free, especially in these times when every subscription adds up. It’s wholesome, really—people wanting to gather ’round, enjoy the sport, and share a moment without worrying about the price tag. And to those providers who offer free livestreams for playoff games? That’s a step in the right direction. These moments shouldn’t be paywalled from fans eager to cheer on their teams.

That said, the methods offered to get a free livestream often come with strings attached—signing up for trials, downloading apps that may or may not work on your trusty old laptop, or navigating websites that look about as trustworthy as a used car salesman’s pitch. And you wonder, why does something as classic as baseball need to be this complicated? When did watching a Mariners-Blue Jays game become a quest worthy of Indiana Jones?

I get it—this is the future, and everything’s going digital. But there’s something to be said about maintaining the simplicity of enjoying sports without being burdened by the technology maze. It’s a kind of wholesome joy, gathering as a family or with friends to root for a team, to share a laugh or maybe even grumble when your favorite player strikes out. Things that were once straightforward—like telling your kid to “turn on ESPN”—are now muddled by services and devices that make me feel like I’m trying to text with a rotary phone.

On the bright side, the availability of these free streams—even if they require a little effort—does speak volumes about how sports broadcasting is evolving. If anything, it shows that providers are aware fans can’t always pay for every package or subscription. But I hope future innovations don’t lead to even more confusion. Wouldn’t it be grand if, in the not-so-distant future, you could just say, “Show me the game,” and just like that, it happens—no fuss, no fixes, just the crack of the bat and cheers filling the room?

There’s also a bigger conversation here about access and community. Sports have always been a way to unite people, to bridge generations and backgrounds. You don’t need to be a tech whiz or a sports fanatic to appreciate the excitement of a Game 7 playoff showdown. And free livestreams, when done right, help keep that spirit alive. But it requires providers to think beyond just dollars and cents and put fan experience first.

As a 63-year-old dad dipping a toe into the vast ocean of the internet, I see all the promise and pitfalls. I’m thankful you can watch these games without having to break the bank, but I’m also a bit wary of the digital rigmarole that’s become the norm. It’s one thing to embrace progress, it’s another to get lost in it. Simple shouldn’t be sacrificed in the name of advanced technology.

So tonight, when the Mariners and Blue Jays take the field for the last time this postseason, here’s hoping viewers find a clear path to the game. A way that doesn’t require downtime, downloads, or deciphering code written in a language known only to folks under 30. Let’s keep baseball accessible, keep the joy in watching, and remember that sometimes, the best technology is the simplest kind.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s just a game—but it’s also a tradition, a chance to come together, and yes, a way to unwind after a long day. So, whether you’re watching on an old tube TV or streaming on a newfangled gadget, may your evening be filled with great plays, good company, and the timeless charm that only playoff baseball can offer.