How’s it going, Dodgers faithful? Let’s take a moment to really check in, from one baseball mind to another. If you’re riding the waves of this season as intensely as most Dodgers fans, you know it’s been a mix of pride, frustration, expectation, and maybe just a little exhaustion. Following this team isn’t just a pastime—it’s an emotional commitment, one that stretches back generations for many of you. So here we are, deep into the 2025 season, and it’s worth asking: how are you holding up?
On paper, this Dodgers squad is a juggernaut. The front office didn’t hold back this offseason, pulling every possible lever to stack the roster. Shohei Ohtani, even without pitching this year, brings an aura, a swagger, and a bat that still has pitchers sweating in their sleep. Mookie Betts continues to be the spark plug, both at the top of the order and in the clubhouse. Freddie Freeman is as consistent as the California sunshine, delivering professional at-bats, flawless defense, and a leadership style that’s quiet but rock solid. You’ve got Will Smith continuing to prove he’s one of the most underrated catchers in the league. And then there’s the breakout buzz around young guys like Andy Pages, Michael Busch before the trade, and the next wave of talent waiting in the wings. But let’s be honest—supporting this team isn’t just about box scores and highlight reels. It’s about what it feels like to live with them every day.
The expectations placed on this club are sky-high—and have been for over a decade. The regular season is no longer the goal; it’s just the runway. Fans aren’t impressed with 95-win seasons anymore, not when October heartbreak has become a pattern. That 2020 title? Grateful, yes. It meant everything in the moment. But many of you want one in a full 162-game context, in packed stadiums, with all the adversity that comes with it. Fair or not, that’s the bar now. And when the team is as stacked as this one, that pressure only intensifies.
This season hasn’t been all roses, either. Injuries have bitten hard at times. You’ve probably had to hold your breath with every update about Walker Buehler, wondering if he’ll ever truly regain that ace form. There have been moments when the bullpen has looked vulnerable, especially in tight late-game situations. And Dave Roberts—man, he gets second-guessed more than any manager in baseball, doesn’t he? Every pitching change, every lineup tweak, every postseason decision lives rent-free in some fans’ heads for years. But at the same time, who else has kept this team so steady for so long? It’s a weird duality: you respect the resume, but some of you might be wondering if this is the year the front office finally has to think differently if the ultimate prize doesn’t come home.
And yet, there are still those magical stretches of baseball where the Dodgers look like they’re playing a different game than everyone else. You know the ones—those weeks where they outscore teams by 30 runs, turn every double play, and make opposing pitchers beg for mercy by the third inning. Those are the stretches that make you believe again, that make you daydream about a champagne-soaked October night in Chavez Ravine. The talent is there. The potential is overwhelming. But as every longtime fan knows, potential doesn’t hang banners. Execution does. And postseason baseball is the most unpredictable beast in all of sports.
Then there’s the vibe at Dodger Stadium. There’s something sacred about that place. From the moment you see the palm trees against the sunset behind the outfield, to the crack of the bat echoing under the lights, it’s not just a stadium—it’s a temple. It’s where families come together, where generations connect, where heartbreaks and miracles unfold in the same nine innings. You’ve cheered, you’ve booed, you’ve seen no-hitters, walk-offs, and the occasional inexplicable meltdown. You’ve watched legends like Clayton Kershaw carve out a legacy pitch by pitch. And even now, when he’s not the fireballer he once was, you stand and cheer every time he walks to the mound, because you remember the greatness and you respect the grind. If you’re not emotionally invested in that, are you really a Dodgers fan?
One of the toughest parts about being a fan of a perennial contender is that it almost takes the joy out of the little things. Other fanbases get excited about playoff races. You get anxious about matchups in the NLDS. Other teams celebrate division titles. You quietly nod, already calculating which team is the tougher draw in the next round. It’s both a privilege and a burden. And yet, you wouldn’t trade it. Not really. Because deep down, you know how rare this kind of sustained excellence is. Teams don’t just win 100 games every year by accident. They don’t just develop MVPs and Cy Young winners in-house and lure megastars in free agency because of the weather. It’s a culture. It’s a machine. It’s the Los Angeles Dodgers.
And speaking of culture, you have to appreciate the front office’s balance. They’ve spent money—lots of it—but they’ve also drafted and developed better than almost anyone. From Corey Seager and Cody Bellinger in past years, to the current core, to the endless stream of arms from the farm system, this organization still believes in building from the ground up. That’s how they survive injuries, how they bounce back from off-years, how they avoid the crashes that so many other franchises eventually face. It’s the reason why you always feel like a deep run is possible, no matter how the season starts.
But belief only gets you so far. Dodgers fans want results. You want rings. You want redemption. You want to erase the bitter taste of early exits to teams you felt you should’ve beaten. And you want to do it in a way that reasserts the Dodgers as not just a great team, but the team of the era. That requires more than talent. It takes grit, chemistry, and maybe a little luck. Because the truth is, October is unfair. One cold week, one bad inning, and everything comes crashing down. You’ve seen it. You’ve lived it. And that’s what makes the waiting so agonizing.
Right now, you’re likely scoreboard watching. You’re checking on the Braves, the Phillies, the Brewers. Maybe you’re hoping for favorable seeding, maybe you’re already scouting the Wild Card teams. Some of you are counting days until Ohtani gets back on the mound next season, while others are hoping that this year is the one where everything aligns, even with him just hitting. And quietly, maybe a part of you is guarding your heart, trying not to get too attached, because the playoffs have been cruel before. It’s okay. That doesn’t make you less of a fan. It just means you’ve felt the highs and lows, and you’ve learned to protect your hope.
But here’s the thing—you keep showing up. You tune in, night after night. You follow the farm system updates. You debate trade rumors. You stand up and cheer when James Outman robs a homer. You stay up late to watch extra innings in a meaningless June game against the Marlins. That’s not casual fandom. That’s love. That’s loyalty. And it matters.
No matter how this season ends—whether it’s a parade down Vin Scully Avenue or another “what if”—you’ll be there. And not just because you want to be. Because you have to be. Because the Dodgers are more than a team. They’re part of your identity. They’re stitched into the fabric of your summers, your memories, your life.
So how are you doing, really? Maybe you’re excited. Maybe you’re worried. Maybe you’re somewhere in between. Just know this: every emotion you’re feeling is valid. This team gives you a reason to care, and that’s a beautiful thing. You’ve got a front row seat to greatness, even if the story isn’t always perfect. And whether it ends in glory or another year of what-could-have-beens, you’re not alone in the ride.
Keep believing. Keep showing up. Keep loving this team, flaws and all.
You’re a Dodgers fan. And that means something.
