Clayton Kershaw, the face of the Los Angeles Dodgers for over a decade and a half, is no stranger to speculation about his future. For years, it seemed inevitable that the legendary southpaw would ride off into the sunset wearing nothing but Dodger blue. He was, after all, the archetype of a franchise player—loyal, accomplished, and beloved by a fan base that had watched him dominate from the mound since 2008. But in a candid and somewhat surprising shift in tone, Kershaw now appears to be changing his tune about where and how he might finish his career, opening the door to the possibility that he may not retire as a lifelong Dodger after all.
Kershaw’s entire career has been closely intertwined with the Dodgers’ modern identity. From Cy Young Awards and MVP honors to postseason heartbreak and eventual World Series redemption, his legacy has been forged in Chavez Ravine. Yet age, injury, and the increasingly transient nature of modern professional sports have slowly eroded the once ironclad assumption that Kershaw would call it a career in Los Angeles.
Throughout his career, Kershaw has always been measured and thoughtful in his approach to media questions about retirement. Even as whispers about his arm health, declining velocity, and innings limits grew louder, he never gave in to speculation. Instead, he leaned on consistent performance and a relentless work ethic to stay relevant. But now, entering what may be his final seasons, Kershaw’s recent comments suggest that he’s more open than ever to the idea that his career could take an unexpected turn in its twilight.
While Kershaw re-signed with the Dodgers on a short-term deal after the 2023 season, opting for flexibility over finality, many believed it was the precursor to a farewell tour in Los Angeles. But that farewell never quite came. In 2024, Kershaw’s appearances were limited due to offseason shoulder surgery. His return in 2025 was seen as a hopeful comeback, but also as a potential swan song. However, when asked whether this season might be his last with the Dodgers, Kershaw didn’t offer the firm affirmation fans were expecting. Instead, he said he’s keeping “all options open,” and that he’s “not ruling anything out,” including playing for another team.
That simple comment—so seemingly innocuous—sent shockwaves through Dodger Nation.
The idea of Kershaw not finishing his career in Los Angeles is jarring for many. It’s hard to envision him in any uniform other than Dodger blue. He’s the club’s all-time strikeout leader, a three-time Cy Young winner, and the anchor of a rotation that has weathered everything from rebuilding years to championship runs. More than that, he represents the ethos of the Dodgers—humble, disciplined, team-oriented. But sports have a way of disrupting fairy tales. Even legends sometimes finish their careers elsewhere.
In Kershaw’s case, the most commonly speculated destination has always been Texas. A Dallas native who still resides there in the offseason, he has deep family roots in the Lone Star State. His children are growing up there. His best friend from childhood, Matt Stafford, plays for the NFL’s Rams—now based in Los Angeles—but their friendship has always highlighted Kershaw’s strong ties to home. And then there’s the Texas Rangers, the reigning World Series champions and a team that, coincidentally or not, has shown a penchant for signing veteran pitchers with something to prove.
The Rangers courted Kershaw in the past, and many insiders believed they came close to landing him after the 2021 and 2022 seasons. If not for the Dodgers’ emotional pull and an organizational familiarity that made the decision to stay feel safe and right, Kershaw might already be pitching in Arlington. But now, with the end of his career in clearer view, practicality might trump sentimentality.
For all of Kershaw’s loyalty to the Dodgers, he has also been brutally honest about his priorities: family, health, and competitiveness. He has repeatedly said he won’t hang around if he feels he can’t contribute at a high level, and he’s equally committed to being present in his children’s lives. A move to Texas would allow him to spend more time at home while still competing at the highest level. And, considering the Rangers’ recent success and youthful core, they offer a realistic shot at contention.
From the Dodgers’ perspective, Kershaw’s situation presents a delicate dilemma. The franchise undoubtedly wants to honor its most iconic pitcher of the 21st century. He is the connective tissue between the rebuilding Dodgers of the late 2000s and the perennial contenders of today. But baseball is a business, and the Dodgers are navigating a period of immense change. With a rotation stacked with young arms, a massive financial investment in Shohei Ohtani, and a front office that prizes flexibility and forward-thinking roster construction, sentimentality may not always align with strategy.
There’s also the matter of Kershaw’s health. The shoulder surgery he underwent in the 2023-24 offseason was serious and came after years of managing back and elbow issues. Though he has returned to action in 2025, the velocity isn’t what it used to be, and his margin for error is slimmer than ever. Still, even at this stage, Kershaw remains a highly effective pitcher when managed properly. His experience, command, and baseball IQ are elite. But the days of 200-inning seasons and fastballs in the mid-90s are gone. He’s a different kind of pitcher now—craftier, more methodical, but still dangerous when healthy.
Perhaps that’s part of why Kershaw is changing his tune. He understands better than anyone what he has left in the tank, and he may also recognize that his role in Los Angeles could soon become more ceremonial than competitive. A move to another contender—especially one closer to home—could allow him to continue pitching meaningfully while accommodating his personal life and family priorities.
If Kershaw were to leave, it wouldn’t be the first time a franchise legend finished elsewhere. Icons like Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, Albert Pujols, and even Babe Ruth all played in other uniforms during their final years. In each case, the departure stung, but time and perspective helped heal the wounds. The legacy remained intact. For Kershaw, the same would likely hold true. His place in Dodgers history is secure. No matter where he finishes, he will be remembered as one of the greatest to ever wear the uniform.
Still, the emotional weight of such a move would be significant. For Dodgers fans, Kershaw is more than a stat line or a Hall of Fame lock. He’s the pitcher they watched grow up. He’s the 21-year-old phenom who debuted with a curveball from heaven. He’s the ace who carried them through so many Octobers, often with little run support and too much weight on his shoulders. He’s the bulldog who never made excuses, even when critics unfairly labeled him a postseason choker—critics he silenced with a triumphant 2020 championship. He is, in every way, the heart of a generation of Dodgers baseball.
That’s what makes the idea of his departure so bittersweet. On one hand, it would be a logical, even admirable, decision if Kershaw chose to prioritize his family and seek a new challenge. On the other, it would be a deeply emotional coda to a legendary career.
The Dodgers, for their part, seem prepared either way. Team president Andrew Friedman has spoken with reverence about Kershaw’s impact, but has also hinted that decisions about contracts and roles will be based on performance and health. There is mutual respect and transparency between the two sides, but also a clear understanding that this chapter is nearing its conclusion—whether that end comes in Los Angeles or not.
In the meantime, Kershaw is doing what he’s always done: competing, leading by example, and refusing to make anything about himself. Teammates still rave about his preparation. Coaches trust his instincts implicitly. Fans continue to rise to their feet when he takes the mound. But the elephant in the room is growing louder. Every start feels like it could be the last in Dodger Stadium. Every appearance is dissected for signs of fatigue or farewell. And every comment—like his recent acknowledgment that he might not retire as a Dodger—is scrutinized for clues.
