Don't Hate the Dodgers

It's become commonplace in the recent months to make the Los Angeles Dodgers into some almost cartoonishly-cliche punching bag villain. They are, to their detractors, the problem with Major League Baseball, personified, a scourge upon the sport, exemplifying the big-city tyranny of winning with the checkbook, rather than on the field.

And it's easy to see where they're coming from, on first glance. The Dodgers have been blessed with much success over the past twelve months. But before that, for several years preceding, they were an exemplary well-run organization. Led by Andrew Friedman, who went from succeeding with very few resources in the miniscule market of Tampa Bay to succeeding with lots of resources in Los Angeles, the Dodgers were admirably consistent. Their farm system and development churned out quality young players, their free agent and trade decisions were nearly always successful, and the results played out on the field: the Dodgers won the NL West eight consecutive years and eleven of twelve, now including 2024.

But up until last year, they had never won it all. Despite all that regular-season success, the Dodgers' postseason appearances were characterized by early-round exits. And although they won the World Series in the shortened 2020 season, their potential always felt unfulfilled.

No longer! The Dodgers had always been players at the top of the free-agent market, signing high-profile players such as Freddie Freeman and annually ranking in the top five (if not first) in total payroll. But the 2023-24 offseason marked the free agency of Shohei Ohtani, famously a unicorn for his ability to both hit and pitch at the levels of the best in the game (as well as command an enormous popular presence in both the United States and Japan). After spending six futile years with the Angels, Shohei's emergence on the free market was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for any team--your team!--to acquire quite possibly one of the best players in baseball history.

The Dodgers signed Shohei Ohtani for $700,000,000 over ten years. Seventy million dollars a year. What's more, Ohtani and the Dodgers agreed to a remarkably team-friendly contract structure; a significant portion of the money would be deferred several years down the road, freeing up both cash-flow and luxury-cap space for the Dodgers to bettter compete.

This is where the Death Star comparisons began. Less than thirty days later, the Dodgers signed fellow Japanese phenom Yoshinobu Yamamoto, the 25-year-old right-handed pitcher who had been Ohtani's Team Japan teammate in the 2023 World Baseball Classic. Due to Ohtani's team-friendly deal, the Dodgers could offer Yamamoto $325 million over twelve years, the largest contract for a pitcher in MLB history. And it was seen as a foregone conclusion that when 23-year-old Roki Sasaki could come over to the States in the 2024-25 offseason, he would join his compatriots in LA.

Sasaki and his agent insisted there was no under-the-table commitment before the free agency window opened. They interviewed several different organizations, allowing them to make their best pitch. News reports leaked for weeks, building the belief that there was a chance that Sasaki would choose the Blue Jays, Padres, or Cubs. Then he signed with the Dodgers, for less money. As everyone had expected.

You might hate the Dodgers, after all that. Did I mention they had cruised to the 2024 World Series title, a few months before Sasaki signed with them? Fresh off a World Series title, with near-infinite money at their disposal, (apparently) the entire NPB as their personal farm system, immense amounts of advertising revenues in two continents, some of the best players in baseball locked down for years into the future, all in addition to their aforementioned strengths of an elite farm system and front office? The Dodgers have finally matured into the supervillain that had seemed inevitable for years.

But what's the title of this article? Don't hate the Dodgers. Why not? To begin with, they deserve it. This isn't lucky success. Good teams don't happen on accident; the Dodgers have taken over a decade to get here. They've built a winning environment, a successful developmental culture, and an attractive free-agent destination. We know that money alone can't guarantee wins; the Mets and Angels prove that seemingly every year. The Dodgers have wisely leveraged their financial and intangible resources into creating a MLB powerhouse. Of course Roki Sasaki signed with them. Why wouldn't he? It's his favorite team with his favorite player on it. Success breeds success.

Here's the kicker: every other team could be doing the same thing. The Dodgers' financial resources aren't unique. The Dodgers' popularity and advertising reach isn't unique. The Dodgers aren't losing money because they committed over a billion dollars last offseason; they're making more. The problem with baseball isn't teams like the Dodgers; it's teams that make little to no financial effort, like the Pirates, whose last multi-year free agent signing was in 2016. It's teams that continue to foster a culture of ineptitude, like the White Sox, who, at a time of unparalleled parity, somehow were the worst team in major-league history last year.

And here's the real reason why you shouldn't hate the Dodgers. Success breeds success. Success proves success. Teams like the White Sox, Pirates, Angels, and Orioles need to see that this works. That investing hundreds of millions of dollars into good players is worthwhile both on the field and financially. The Dodgers are winning because your favorite team isn't doing the same thing. Don't blame the Dodgers for taking advantage.