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Jul 13, 2026; Philadelphia, PA, USA; Philadelphia Phillies designated hitter Kyle Schwarber (12) bats in the final round of the All Star-Home Run Derby at Citizens Bank Park. Mandatory Credit: Kyle Ross-Imagn Images | Kyle Ross-Imagn Images
Bryce Harper is the greatest showman, as they say. Kyle Schwarber, then, might be the greatest craftsman, with a body of work so explosive that it could only be rivaled by Alfred Nobel. As the festivities got underway, Schwarber and Harper joked that the winner of the duel between the two would have to pay some sort of price to the winner. Perhaps a gold medal, and a certificate from the Schwarbel Committee to recognize outstanding contributions in the field of Dingerology.
Wilson Contreras got the festivities started, with a solid 13 homers on his 20 swings. He took a few pitches before his last swing, wanting to make sure he got the most of the magenta ball (with which you get to swing until you stop hitting dingers). He eventually took a hack at it, but didn’t quite clear the fences; no bonus bombs for him. Jordan Walker was the first to send one into the greenery of the batter’s eye; he started off strong, faded down the stretch, then bounced back to match Contreras’ 13. The triskaidekaphobes were shuddering, but everyone else at the Bank was having a grand old time. Jac Caglianone tried to jac a few taters, but couldn’t quite find his swing, with only two homers in his first 10 swings. He then proceeded to eat his spinach, flinging a few moonshots into the upper decks in right, and one over the batter’s eye and into Ashburn Alley. His total of eight wouldn’t be enough to send him ahead, but he acquitted himself well with some of the finest gopher balls the first round had to offer. Munetaka Murakami, of the Junior Circuit’s Chicago club, surpassed Caglianone by one.
Ben Rice went fifth, and fell short with a total of seven shots. Junior Caminero went after and put up a dozen.
And then it was time for the hometown heroes. Hat backwards, Schwarber strode up to the plate to a standing ovation. His first swing lined the ball to left-center, his second was a shallow fly. His third was a grounder, and his fourth was a foul. His sixth, however, sailed into the familiar territory of the right field seats in CBP. He soon found his groove, with six homers through twelve swings. With four swings left, he had eight homers, and two more needed to beat out Murakami and put himself in line to advance. His next swing tied Murakami. Two swings later, he surpassed him with a shot into the second deck, an area littered with more Schwarbomb landing sites than the moon has craters. He didn’t send the bonus ball into the seats, and so ended his first round with an even ten.
Bryce Harper had the encore, with Schwarber’s ten as his number to beat. The dream of a Harper-Schwarber final came to a premature end; instead, we were treated to the high yet heartbreaking drama of Bryce and Kyle reaching out for the same ring. Harper’s first swing went foul, his second went into the glove of a waiting fielder. His third went out to center, and did not have the distance. But his fourth went into the right field seats. Nine more to go. His seventh swing produced a towering shot that entered Ashburn Alley. Soon after, his bat launched a 482 foot monster. But time (or swings, rather), began to run short. With eight swings left, he needed six more homers. But he had a late surge, with eight homers as he entered the magenta ball swings. Unfortunately, he fouled off the bonus ball, and his night ended. The duel between our beloved duo ended with the Showman bowing out, and Schwarber was left to carry the torch for the hosts.
Schwarber was matched with Contreras in the second semifinal, with Junior Caminero taking on Jordan Walker in the first. Caminero was substantially cooler in the semis, producing five homers on his 15 swings, though one was a lovely shot into the batter’s eye. Walker calmly and smoothly handled his foe, tying him with his seventh swing and eliminating him with the eighth.
Contreras, as the first round’s leader, got the benefit of going second. Schwarber’s first swing produced a ball that just barely missed the mark, and his next two didn’t get the job done either. But his fourth went flying, his fifth said hello to the second deck, and his sixth and seventh did too. His eighth was a misfire that took out a camera, a bit of comic relief sandwiched between rainbow drops. Once in his groove, the well-oiled Schwarb-chine could be delayed but not stopped. He had nine by the time the magenta ball came out, and finished there (nobody had hit a homer with the magenta ball all night).
Contreras was greeted by a host of contrary Philadelphia fans, cheering jubilantly for every ball that found grass instead of seats and booing when he took pitches. They quieted down as he rattled off homers and rattled the foul pole with a dinger, then, after that brief respite for the Bosox’ representative, found their boos again as the battle reached its apex. With two swings remaining, Contreras was one short of Schwarber. He missed on the first, then had the challenge of the magenta ball that had befuddled every previous batter. A wild pitch made him jump out of the way; a bit of levity amidst the tension. He fouled off the magenta ball, and Schwarber was on to the finals. Had Contreras been rattled by the boos of his Derby detractors? Philadelphia lore will surely see it that way.
Schwarber vs. Walker for the title, with Schwarber going first. He took a few pitches to start out the finals, then sent one into the second deck with his first swing. His second swing went over the fence too. His third and fourth homers weren’t no-doubters, but they found their proper home after anxiety-inducing arcs. His fifth shot was a smooth, easy second deck shot, as was his sixth, as were his seventh and his ninth and his tenth. The magenta ball was next, and Schwarber was the first to send it into the seats. His bonus swing sent a liner towards right, where it barely missed. The fan who caught it, arm stretched over the wall, seemed more bereft by the end of Schwarber’s round than enthused by his grab. An exceptional round, and a high bar for Walker to clear.
Walker was greeted by boos. Cheers greeted his misses, his home runs were met with deafening silence. He entered the magenta ball swings with eight homers. He got four more, and even the sourest Philadelphia fan (admittedly, I among them) had to admit it was a mighty show and a well-deserved victory. A classic Derby leading the way into the Midsummer Classic.
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