With the spotlight shining on every step of the players, coach Dave Roberts took the mic to deliver a powerful reminder to the team and fans: “loyalty” isn’t just a word — it’s a commitment to keep when the team is at its most crucial moment.
Facing the TorontoBlueJays in the World Series finals, the Dodgers are carrying the season, the city, and the legacy they’ve built on their shoulders. Roberts emphasized:
“When people are around you just to win — you’ve lost yourself. Loyalty is when you haven’t won, when you’re backed into a corner.”
Roberts’s statement resonated like a wave of motivation in a city that demands victory. But this time, he’s asking for more: togetherness, consistency, and an understanding that the Dodgers’ home is more than just a ballpark—it’s a community home.
Roberts cites tough moments: unexpected injuries, losing streaks, pressure from the media, and expectations from millions. “We need the team, the coaching staff, and the fans to come together — not just when things are going well, but especially when things are going downhill,” he says.
Against the BlueJays, every hit, every pitch, every tactical decision is under a microscope. This isn’t the regular season—this is the World Series, where the Dodgers’ logo, legacy, and identity are on the line. Roberts asks: Can the players stick together when they’re behind? Will the fans stand up when the feeling of disappointment hits?
The Dodgers entered the finals after a challenging season: injuries, ups and downs, and the pressure of the media surrounding the “championship prediction.” The BlueJays were no novices: they had speed, a young core, and a desire to rewrite history. Roberts understood that success was not just about numbers, but about the story behind it: a cohesive team, unwavering belief, and loyalty.
“You can look at the titles and records,” he said, “but what you don’t see is the late-night practices, the words of encouragement when you’re down, the hugs after a loss. That’s what keeps you together.”
Roberts didn’t just talk the talk. He implemented a locker room culture: praise when his teammates did well, defend them when they made mistakes, and always remind them: “We work for each other — not just for ourselves.” Before this final, he asked the players to write the name of the person they were most grateful for on a piece of paper — “and if you forget someone,” he said, “please remember.”
The city of Los Angeles is waiting for a win — but Roberts believes that if the team only plays for a title, they will slip. He wants them to play for each other, for the person next to them, for the organization that believes in them.
Whatever the outcome — whether the Dodgers win or not — Roberts wants this to be remembered: This is more than just a tradition of winning trophies. This is a legacy of loyalty — to teammates, to the team, to the fans. When the cheers ring out at home or under the lights at away games, Roberts wants everyone to remember: they are not alone. And when the final trophy is placed on the table, people will say: “That was a team that played for each other.”
And there’s more — as the season ends, Roberts leaves off with a parting line to the reader who’s been following along:
“We had those nights where the whole city stayed up for a game… and that’s something… that will stay.”