That last match will be remembered for a long time. Ohtani walked the first batter he faced before striking out the next three. Then he came to the plate and launched a ball over four hundred feet—the first time in MLB history that a pitcher had hit a walk-off home run. And that was just the beginning! Over six innings, Ohtani — with his inimitable grace, a move that combines agility and power — gave up just two hits and struck out ten, including six of the seven batters he faced during one inning. Up the middle, he hit a second homer, which left the field, clearing the roof of center field. As he hung in the night sky, his teammates in the dugout and in the bullpen, who had a close-up view of all of Ohtani’s Bunyanesque exploits, held their heads in disbelief. Then hit the third! It was the greatest performance by the greatest player in history.
Ohtani’s value to the Los Angeles Dodgers is invaluable. His contract — worth seven hundred million dollars for ten years, with team-friendly deferrals — is a steal, considering what he brings to the team on and off the field. However, not every MLB team can afford to pay anyone that much money, let alone surround them with other players on huge contracts.
The Dodgers’ payroll is over three hundred and fifty million dollars, which is nearly three times the size of the Brewers’ payroll. This has led to the usual concern about competitive imbalance and the inherent plight of small market teams. It is easy to see the outlines of the narrative. In Game 1 of the NLCS, Blake Snell, the former Cy Young winner who signed with the Dodgers in the offseason for nearly two hundred million dollars, pitched eight shutout innings. Then in Game Two came Yoshinobu Yamamoto (three hundred and twenty-five million for twelve years), who gave up a home run to the first hit before pitching a complete game in which no one else reached second base. Tyler Glasnow, who signed with the club for more than one hundred and thirty million dollars over five years, gave up one run in Game Three. Then came Ohtani. The Dodgers have had fifteen straight winning seasons and thirteen straight playoff appearances, and have already won two World Series this decade. They need another championship like Taylor Swift needs a Grammy. But they became a symbol of something bigger than the juggernaut. They are sometimes portrayed as an existential threat to other teams.
It’s a strange argument — the Brewers, not the Dodgers, had the best record in baseball during the regular season. In fact, the Dodgers were so mediocre for a stretch midway through the season, losing all six regular season games they played against the Brewers this year. If anything, the two franchises seem to support the idea that payroll is only loosely linked to success. (And let’s not talk about the New York Mets just yet.) What’s more, much of the Dodgers’ talent was undervalued by other teams. Betts was traded to the Dodgers by the Boston Red Sox. Max Muncy, who recently set the record for most postseason homers, was claimed off waivers after being released by the Oakland Athletics. For a while last offseason, Snell’s agent had trouble finding a buyer. Rocky Sasaki, who had been an impressive player in Japan, was wanted by almost every MLB team — and every team would have been able to pay him roughly the same small amount, given MLB’s agent-free international amateur rules. But his choice to come to the Dodgers was validated when, after joining the team, he struggled severely with his speed as a baserunner. He went to the Dodgers’ complex in Arizona, worked with the team’s performance staff, tweaked his mechanics, took on a new role in the bullpen, and became a fearsome reliever almost overnight. It’s a story as much about efficiency and confidence as it is about luxury taxes and revenue.
That’s what sets the Dodgers apart from others: They’re good at being around goodAnd not just great sometimes. Over the past week, Brewers manager Pat Murphy has been on a media blitz trying to prove that his team is the biggest underdog the sport has ever seen. He has drawn attention to the disparity in salaries. He joked that the series would only be fair if Dodgers players wore their gloves on their opposite hands. Murphy made an argument for a writer to athlete That his team had no stars, while the Dodgers were full of celebrities. Then, for evidence, he pointed to Mookie Betts, who, at that moment, approached a golf cart driven by a Brewers club attendant. Bates had a big smile on his face. He was treated better than Murphy, in Murphy’s own playground!
Or perhaps there was a simpler explanation. Of course Bates is offered a ride: his smile is contagious. Who can root against him? Likewise, it was impossible to watch Ohtani on Friday and do anything but appreciate the magnificence of his movements and the magnificence of his performance. Even the hater should tip her hat. ♦