continued:
“I wanted to keep Kenta away from Soto,” Roberts said.
So rather than mix-and-match his other arms, Roberts went with Kershaw. In that moment, he behaved as if this was still the summer of 2016, before Kershaw suffered a series of back injuries and became prone to home runs. When asked why he trusted Kershaw, Roberts referenced the past.
“He’s probably the best pitcher of our generation,” Roberts said. He added, “It just didn’t work out. So there’s always going to be second-guessing when things don’t work out, but I’ll take my chances any day on Clayton.”
Roberts ignored all of Kershaw’s ugly postseason history, the collapses in 2013 and 2014 and 2016 and 2017. He ignored all of Kershaw’s decline, the decreased velocity and misshapen slider. He ignored the armada of other relievers in favor of Kershaw, the unfortunate symbol of this franchise’s inability to secure a title. “I felt great,” Roberts maintained afterward, “about running Clayton back out there for two hitters.”
The decision added an indelible image to the Dodgers photo album of postseason misery, the sight of Kershaw alone on the bench, staring at his feet, after he surrendered the homers to Rendon and Soto. A pall spread over the ballpark. Kershaw put on a jacket and lingered on the bench. He barely even looked up when Will Smith hit a drive to the wall in the ninth inning. Kershaw stayed in the same place as Kelly combusted in the 10th.
Maeda had buzzed through three hitters in the eighth after Kershaw left. Kelly did the same in the ninth. Roberts thought Kelly worthy of another turn in extra innings, even with Jansen loitering in the bullpen and Kolarek gathering moss beside him. Roberts trusted his gut.
“My eyes tell me that he should go back out there because he’s throwing the ball really well,” he said.
The success stopped almost immediately. Kelly walked Eaton. Rendon doubled. With two runners in scoring position, Roberts declined to use Kolarek against Soto. But he reasoned that his best chance to keep the game tied would, amazingly, still be Kelly. Roberts thought Kelly could get Kendrick to bounce into a double play.
“Nobody out, you’re in a tie ball game, yeah, you could go to Kolarek, infield is going to be in, hope for a (strikeout),” Roberts said. “But I just felt that Joe had a good chance to put Howie on the ground and potentially then get Kenley on Zimmerman. And so my thought was to try to get a ground ball right there.”
Kendrick did not hit the ball on the ground. He hit a towering drive. His dugout erupted. The Dodgers looked shell-shocked.
The season was over soon after. That was it — 106 victories, more than any other by a Dodgers team in franchise history, rendered moot by the missteps of their manager.
The players struggled to fathom the shock. The numbness carried over into their clubhouse after the game. “It sucks,” Kelly said, which summed things up. Rich Hill choked up when asked about Kershaw. Jansen shrugged when asked how it felt to watch the late innings take place without him.
“Doc,” Jansen said, “he had his game plan.”
The plan never came to fruition. The plan unraveled in spectacular fashion. The plan will stain the reputation of Dave Roberts, one of the most successful managers in franchise history. Only a championship can erase that sort of blemish. And the Dodgers will spend yet another October without one.
“I wanted to keep Kenta away from Soto,” Roberts said.
So rather than mix-and-match his other arms, Roberts went with Kershaw. In that moment, he behaved as if this was still the summer of 2016, before Kershaw suffered a series of back injuries and became prone to home runs. When asked why he trusted Kershaw, Roberts referenced the past.
“He’s probably the best pitcher of our generation,” Roberts said. He added, “It just didn’t work out. So there’s always going to be second-guessing when things don’t work out, but I’ll take my chances any day on Clayton.”
Roberts ignored all of Kershaw’s ugly postseason history, the collapses in 2013 and 2014 and 2016 and 2017. He ignored all of Kershaw’s decline, the decreased velocity and misshapen slider. He ignored the armada of other relievers in favor of Kershaw, the unfortunate symbol of this franchise’s inability to secure a title. “I felt great,” Roberts maintained afterward, “about running Clayton back out there for two hitters.”
The decision added an indelible image to the Dodgers photo album of postseason misery, the sight of Kershaw alone on the bench, staring at his feet, after he surrendered the homers to Rendon and Soto. A pall spread over the ballpark. Kershaw put on a jacket and lingered on the bench. He barely even looked up when Will Smith hit a drive to the wall in the ninth inning. Kershaw stayed in the same place as Kelly combusted in the 10th.
Maeda had buzzed through three hitters in the eighth after Kershaw left. Kelly did the same in the ninth. Roberts thought Kelly worthy of another turn in extra innings, even with Jansen loitering in the bullpen and Kolarek gathering moss beside him. Roberts trusted his gut.
“My eyes tell me that he should go back out there because he’s throwing the ball really well,” he said.
The success stopped almost immediately. Kelly walked Eaton. Rendon doubled. With two runners in scoring position, Roberts declined to use Kolarek against Soto. But he reasoned that his best chance to keep the game tied would, amazingly, still be Kelly. Roberts thought Kelly could get Kendrick to bounce into a double play.
“Nobody out, you’re in a tie ball game, yeah, you could go to Kolarek, infield is going to be in, hope for a (strikeout),” Roberts said. “But I just felt that Joe had a good chance to put Howie on the ground and potentially then get Kenley on Zimmerman. And so my thought was to try to get a ground ball right there.”
Kendrick did not hit the ball on the ground. He hit a towering drive. His dugout erupted. The Dodgers looked shell-shocked.
The season was over soon after. That was it — 106 victories, more than any other by a Dodgers team in franchise history, rendered moot by the missteps of their manager.
The players struggled to fathom the shock. The numbness carried over into their clubhouse after the game. “It sucks,” Kelly said, which summed things up. Rich Hill choked up when asked about Kershaw. Jansen shrugged when asked how it felt to watch the late innings take place without him.
“Doc,” Jansen said, “he had his game plan.”
The plan never came to fruition. The plan unraveled in spectacular fashion. The plan will stain the reputation of Dave Roberts, one of the most successful managers in franchise history. Only a championship can erase that sort of blemish. And the Dodgers will spend yet another October without one.