The 2017 World Series Champion Houston Astros: What Really Happened and Why it Still Burns

The 2017 World Series Champion Houston Astros: What Really Happened and Why it Still Burns

Houston. November 1, 2017. Game 7.

The Houston Astros—a team that had endured three consecutive 100-loss seasons just a few years prior—stood on the mound at Dodger Stadium as the 2017 World Series champion. It was a storybook ending. Or at least, it felt like one at the time. Charlie Morton threw four incredible innings of relief. George Springer was the MVP. The city of Houston, still reeling from the devastation of Hurricane Harvey, finally had something to scream about.

But you know the rest of the story. Or you think you do.

Basically, the 2017 title is the most complicated piece of hardware in modern baseball history. It's not just a trophy; it's a debate that doesn't ever seem to end. When Mike Fiers went on the record with The Athletic in late 2019, he didn't just blow the whistle on a sign-stealing scheme; he fundamentally changed how we look at that entire season. Honestly, it’s kinda impossible to talk about the 2017 Astros without talking about the trash can. But if you only talk about the trash can, you're missing how good that roster actually was.

The Rebuild That Changed Everything (Before the Scandal)

Jeff Luhnow was a polarizing figure. He came from a business background, and he brought a cold, calculated "Process" to Houston that made a lot of traditional baseball scouts really angry. The idea was simple: fail fast, fail hard, and hoard high draft picks. It worked.

The Astros didn't just stumble into being the 2017 World Series champion. They built it. They drafted Carlos Correa. They found Jose Altuve when everyone else thought he was too short to play professional ball. They traded for Justin Verlander at the literal last second of the August waiver deadline. That move alone shifted the gravity of the American League. Verlander was a beast. He went 5-0 with a 1.06 ERA in the regular season for Houston. Without him, they don't even get past the Yankees in the ALCS.

Then you have the offense. It was a juggernaut. They led the majors in runs, batting average, and OPS. They struck out less than any other team. That’s the detail people forget when they argue about the cheating. They were already elite. Does that justify the scheme? No. But it makes the "what if" scenarios much more frustrating for fans of the Dodgers or Yankees.

How the Sign-Stealing Scheme Actually Functioned

Let's get into the weeds of what the MLB investigation actually found. It wasn't just some guys with binoculars. It was a "player-driven" system that involved a center-field camera feed being sent to a monitor near the dugout.

Someone—usually a player or staffer—would watch the feed, decode the catcher's signs, and then signal the batter. The signal was a bang on a plastic trash can. One bang for a changeup or curveball. No bang for a fastball. Simple. Effective. Devastating.

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Commissioner Rob Manfred's report was pretty damning. It noted that the system was used throughout the 2017 regular season and the postseason. However, the data gets weird when you look at the World Series itself. Some researchers, like Tony Adams, who spent hundreds of hours logging "bangs" from game footage, found that the frequency of the trash-can banging actually dropped off or disappeared in the later stages of the playoffs.

Does that mean they stopped? Not necessarily. It might just mean they got quieter or switched methods. But the asterisk is there. It's burned into the metal of the trophy.

The Impact on Pitchers

Think about it from the perspective of someone like Yu Darvish. In Game 7, Darvish got absolutely shelled. He didn't even make it out of the second inning. For years, the narrative was that he was "tipping his pitches." He spent months obsessing over his mechanics, wondering how he could have failed his team so badly.

Then the news broke.

It wasn't just about Darvish, though. Dozens of pitchers saw their ERAs balloon and their careers shorten because they were playing against a team that knew what was coming. That’s the human cost that often gets lost in the "everybody does it" defense.

Why the "Everyone Cheats" Argument Doesn't Quite Hold Up

You’ll hear Astros fans—and even some former players—say that the Red Sox and Yankees were doing the same thing. And yeah, the Red Sox were caught using Apple Watches. The Yankees were fined for improper use of a dugout phone.

But there’s a scale here.

The Astros’ system was systematic and built into the infrastructure of their home games. It wasn't a guy on second base trying to peek at the catcher's fingers. It was a technological loop. The 2017 World Series champion wasn't just "playing the game"; they were hacking it.

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Even so, look at the road splits. The Astros were actually better on the road in some statistical categories during the 2017 season than they were at home. In the World Series, they won Game 2 and Game 7 in Los Angeles. No trash cans there. This is the paradox of the 2017 Astros. They were probably good enough to win it all legally, but they chose not to find out.

The Fallout: Firings, Fines, and a Permanent Reputation

When the hammer finally dropped in early 2020, it was heavy.

  • A.J. Hinch was suspended and then fired.
  • Jeff Luhnow was suspended and then fired.
  • The team was fined $5 million (the maximum allowed).
  • They lost first and second-round draft picks for two years.

But the players? They got immunity in exchange for their testimony. That’s what stayed under the skin of the rest of the league. Guys like Correa, Altuve, and Bregman didn't face a single game of suspension.

The 2020 season—the one played in empty stadiums due to the pandemic—was honestly a blessing for the Astros. They didn't have to hear the boos. They didn't have to dodge the literal trash cans fans were planning to throw onto the field. But when fans returned in 2021, the vitriol hadn't faded. It had fermented.

Was the 2022 Title a Redemption?

The Astros winning again in 2022 with Dusty Baker at the helm did a lot to quiet the "they can't win without cheating" crowd. Most of the 2017 roster was gone. No Correa. No Springer. No Morton. Only a few core pieces like Altuve and Bregman remained.

Winning that second title proved the organization had built a sustainable machine. But for many, it didn't wash away the stain of 2017. It just proved they were talented enough that they never needed to cheat in the first place, which somehow makes the original sin feel worse.

What Most People Get Wrong About the 2017 Season

People love a simple villain. It’s easy to say "the Astros cheated, therefore they won." But baseball is incredibly random. Even if you know a 98-mph fastball is coming, you still have to hit it.

One of the biggest misconceptions is that the sign-stealing happened on every single pitch. It didn't. It was situational. Another misconception is that Jose Altuve was the ringleader. In reality, multiple reports suggest Altuve was one of the few players who actively disliked the banging and often requested that they stop doing it during his at-bats. Yet, as the face of the franchise, he took the brunt of the public's anger.

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Then there's the Dodgers' side of things. They weren't exactly a scrappy underdog; they were a high-spending powerhouse that also had several opportunities to win that series. They lost Game 2 at home after leading in the 8th inning. They lost Game 7 at home while going 1-for-13 with runners in scoring position. The Astros' cheating played a role, but it wasn't the only reason the Dodgers lost.

Lessons from the 2017 Astros Era

What can we actually learn from this mess?

First, the "win at all costs" culture in high-stakes sports usually ends in a PR nightmare. The Astros' front office was so focused on finding every 1% edge that they lost sight of the ethical boundaries.

Second, MLB’s policing of technology was—and still is—a step behind the teams. The introduction of PitchCom (the electronic signaling device catchers use now) was a direct result of the 2017 scandal. It finally removed the need for complex hand signs and effectively ended the "dark ages" of tech-based sign stealing.

Actionable Takeaways for Fans and Collectors

If you're a baseball fan or someone interested in the history of the 2017 World Series champion, here is how to approach this specific era:

  • Audit the Stats: When looking at the career stats of players from that 2017-2019 era, look at the home/road splits. It gives you a much clearer picture of who was benefiting the most from the system.
  • Collect with Caution: 2017 Astros memorabilia is in a weird spot. For Houston fans, it’s still a cherished memory of a city coming together. For the rest of the world, it’s tainted. If you're an investor, the 2022 championship gear is generally considered a "safer" long-term bet for value.
  • Watch the Documentary Evidence: Don't just read the tweets. Read the full 2020 MLB Commissioner’s report. It’s dry, but it clarifies exactly what was proven and what was just speculation.
  • Respect the PitchCom Era: Appreciate the modern game’s pace and security. We are currently in the most "secure" era of pitching and catching in history because of the fallout from 2017.

The Houston Astros are the 2017 World Series champion. That's in the record books. It's not going anywhere. Whether you view them as a brilliant team that made a massive mistake or a group of "Houston Asterisks" depends entirely on how much you value the integrity of the process over the final result. Baseball has a long history of scoundrels, from the Black Sox to the Steroid Era. The 2017 Astros are just the latest chapter in that complicated book.

If you're looking to understand the team better, start by watching Justin Verlander's 2017 ALCS highlights. Then, watch the Jomboy breakdown videos of the trash can bangs. You have to see both to understand why this team remains the most hated, respected, and talked-about squad of the 21st century.