In a game where the Los Angeles Dodgers seemed poised to complete a sweep and extend their dominance, the team instead walked off the field stunned after a 5–4 loss to the Toronto Blue Jays. The loss itself was painful, but what followed was perhaps more jarring: Dodgers manager Dave Roberts publicly called out his biggest star, Shohei Ohtani, for making two crucial mistakes that ultimately cost the team the game. The tone of his postgame comments wasn’t angry—it was disappointed. And for a manager who almost never singles out his players in such a direct manner, especially one as valuable as Ohtani, the message was unmistakable.
Shohei Ohtani is used to being praised, not criticized. He’s one of the most electrifying talents baseball has ever seen, dominating both at the plate and on the mound. But even for a player of his magnitude, expectations come with responsibilities, and when those aren’t met, the consequences are felt on and off the field. On Sunday, those consequences were twofold. First, Ohtani made a critical baserunning error in the sixth inning, getting caught stealing third base with two outs and Freddie Freeman at the plate. Second, he struck out with the bases loaded in the ninth inning on a pitch well out of the strike zone—a moment that slammed the door shut on the Dodgers’ final rally.
The caught stealing was especially perplexing. With two outs in the inning and already having drawn a walk, Ohtani attempted to steal third base in what seemed like an impulsive move. The Blue Jays were more than ready for it. He was thrown out by a comfortable margin. What made the decision all the more questionable was the context—Freeman, one of the most reliable and clutch hitters in baseball, was standing in the box. Roberts didn’t sugarcoat it after the game. “That was his decision,” he said. “Not a good baseball play.” The comment was brief but loaded. In a sport where teammates and managers often go to great lengths to avoid direct criticism in public, especially regarding superstars, Roberts broke from the norm. His tone wasn’t just about a single play—it was about decision-making, awareness, and discipline.
The second mistake, coming in the bottom of the ninth, was just as costly. With the Dodgers trailing by one and the bases loaded, Ohtani stepped into the batter’s box with a chance to be the hero, to redeem the earlier error, and to snatch victory back from the jaws of defeat. But instead of working the count or waiting for a hittable pitch, he chased a breaking ball in the dirt. He struck out swinging, ending the game. Again, Roberts was honest: “The last thing I thought would happen was him striking out on that pitch. Chasing a low pitch is something we just can’t do in that situation.” It was rare candor directed at a player often praised for his composure and timing.
These two moments overshadowed what was otherwise a typical Ohtani day in terms of production. He hit his 41st home run earlier in the game—a moonshot that further cemented his status as one of the game’s most fearsome hitters—and reached base three times. But baseball is a cruel sport, and even a brilliant stat line can be eclipsed by one or two mental lapses. In this case, those lapses directly altered the outcome of the game.
The Dodgers had every opportunity to win. They collected 10 hits and drew 13 walks. They put runners in scoring position in nearly every inning. And yet, they left 16 runners on base and went just 1-for-10 with runners in scoring position. That inefficiency made Ohtani’s miscues feel even larger. It wasn’t just about him—it was about a team that didn’t execute when it mattered most. And when you’re a team expected to contend for a World Series, these kinds of losses—and the decisions that lead to them—aren’t taken lightly.
Roberts didn’t reserve his disappointment for Ohtani alone. He also addressed Michael Conforto’s missed opportunity in the eighth inning, when he popped out with the bases loaded on a 3–1 pitch that was squarely in the heart of the strike zone. “You can’t ask for a better pitch. You’ve got to move it forward,” Roberts said. In short, the Dodgers had their chances. They just didn’t capitalize. And in a game of inches, those missed moments pile up quickly.
To make matters worse, the bullpen couldn’t hold the line. After building a 4–3 lead, veteran reliever Blake Treinen surrendered back-to-back home runs to Vladimir Guerrero Jr. and Addison Barger in the eighth inning. What was a narrow lead became a one-run deficit in the blink of an eye. The offense had chances to come back but couldn’t deliver the knockout punch. When you get 23 baserunners and only score four times, it’s not a case of bad luck—it’s poor execution.
For the Dodgers, the loss was a rare combination of wasted offensive output, defensive lapses, and questionable in-game decisions. For Roberts, the game demanded accountability. And while Ohtani has been the most consistent force on the team this season, his mistakes were magnified by the situation. Normally, those kinds of errors might be shrugged off if they came from a rookie or a player fighting for a roster spot. But when they come from a franchise cornerstone making over \$700 million, they carry a different weight.
In many ways, Roberts’s comments reflected the pressure of expectations. This isn’t just any team—it’s the Dodgers. A team with one of the highest payrolls in the league. A team that expects to be in the World Series. A team that has been built to win now. And when the margins between victory and defeat are razor-thin, every little mistake gets highlighted. Roberts likely knew that his words would echo. But he also understood the importance of setting a tone. No one is above accountability—not even Shohei Ohtani.
Ohtani, for his part, didn’t speak to the media after the game. Whether that was a result of frustration, embarrassment, or simply needing time to process, it left the commentary to his manager and the rest of the clubhouse. But those who know Ohtani’s character understand that he’s not one to hide from criticism. He’s intense, methodical, and driven. And if anything, this kind of public accountability might serve as motivation.
Still, the moment was a reminder of something often forgotten in the world of superstar athletes: even the greats can make poor decisions. And when they do, the consequences are amplified. Ohtani is not just a player—he’s a brand, a global icon, and the centerpiece of the Dodgers’ future. But with that status comes the need to play smart, especially in crucial moments. You don’t steal third with two outs and your best contact hitter up. And you don’t chase balls out of the zone when the game is on the line.
The Dodgers will move on, of course. One loss doesn’t define a season. And for a team as talented as Los Angeles, setbacks are usually followed by surges. But the manner of this defeat—and Roberts’s reaction to it—may linger. It may serve as a turning point, a moment when the standards were reasserted. It may also reveal something deeper about the dynamic between player and manager, and the expectations that come with greatness.
There’s little doubt that Ohtani will bounce back. He always does. But this game, and Roberts’s uncharacteristically pointed comments, will remain a footnote in a season that is still being written. Whether it becomes a catalyst for improvement or a symptom of deeper inconsistencies will be revealed in the weeks ahead.
What’s clear is this: baseball doesn’t care who you are. It doesn’t care how many home runs you’ve hit, how much money you make, or how many fans line up for your autograph. It rewards discipline, execution, and smart decisions. On Sunday, Shohei Ohtani made two decisions that violated those principles, and his manager let the world know about it. Not to embarrass him, but to remind him—and the rest of the team—that playing for the Dodgers means being held to the highest standard.
