There’s more to the Dodgers’ dominance than money

Blake Snell is a Dodger, and people are incensed.

Once again, Andrew Friedman and co. have convinced a bonafide star to defer heaps of cash en route to Los Angeles. Snell, a two-time Cy Young award winner, signed a five-year, $182 million contract, including a $52 million signing bonus, as the reigning world champions solidified a perceived weakness.

This, of course, comes after the Dodgers dominated the Yankees in a lopsided World Series. This comes after the Dodgers dropped $1.025 billion on two players – Shohei Ohtani and Yoshinobu Yamamoto – last winter. And this comes after the Dodgers gave $803.5 million to four definitive cornerstones – Mookie Betts, Freddie Freeman, Tyler Glasnow and Will Smith – in a four-year span.

All told, Los Angeles has committed $2.015 billion to the aforementioned septet. By contrast, the Athletics never spent that amount on their whole roster of players, combined, during their entire 58-year stay in Oakland. Hence outrage in smaller markets. Hence calls to ‘break up the Dodgers.’ Hence a vague, formless sense they are doing something illicit, skirting some kind of legislation.

Such criticism is understandable, and perhaps even correct, but there is more to the Dodgers' dominance than money. Sure, limitless funds help, but the Dodgers have built an alluring juggernaut players want to join. Their imperial march is enabled by cash, but its continued success is driven by limitless ambition and an unfettered commitment to excellence.

Yes, the Dodgers can drop unlimited cash on any player, but so, in theory, can the Yankees, Mets, Red Sox and Blue Jays. In fact, most MLB team owners can afford most MLB players, but they choose to restrict expenditure. In certain instances, that is fiscally logical, as smaller revenues begat stricter budgets. But in many scenarios, owners prioritise profit over winning, citing self-imposed restrictions as rationale for passing on elite talent.

In contrast, the Dodgers are distinguished by their willingness to invest in such talent repeatedly, and also by the sustained appeal of their seductive sales pitch. Where most teams erect artificial ceilings, the Dodgers endorse open-air aspiration. Where most teams acquiesce, the Dodgers plough on. And where most teams settle, the Dodgers double-down.

Crucially, the Dodgers are a vertically-integrated behemoth. An overarching vision – of world-beating power – is set from the top, and specialist departments have autonomy to implement that in their respective domains. Sure, there is interaction and coalescence, but remit creep is minimised and meddling disallowed. Trust greases the wheels, and a lack of ego creates a collaborative push towards dominance.

From analytics to scouting, the Dodgers are a paragon of efficiency. From sports science to research and development, the Dodgers are a model franchise. From marketing to player amenities, the Dodgers rule the world. No stone is left unturned in pursuit of novel greatness, and no resource is spurred ensuring that pursuit succeeds.

As a result, the Dodgers have an embarrassment of desirable niceties – a luxurious clubhouse, myriad endorsement opportunities, a cutting-edge pitching lab – but they also have unique player-procuring creativity and a winning culture that turbocharges recruits once they come aboard.

Classic condemnation of the Dodgers centres on allegations of tax-dodging and payroll manipulation, yet such critiques overlook the fact that players are willing to indulge them – willing to defer stacks of cash – because the prospect of becoming a Dodger is so appealing. Not since the Evil Empire Yankees has a team been this attractive to players. Chavez Ravine is baseball’s go-to destination, and it houses a burgeoning super-team.

Why? Well, knowing the Dodgers will offer fair market value in terms of remuneration definitely helps. But so, too, does the guarantee of competing for multiple World Series rings during a prolonged stay. The Dodgers have not missed the playoffs since 2012, and their dynastic intentions ensure perennial relevance. Guys want that – often more than they want financial riches.

There is even more to the Dodgers' pull, though. There is the sunshine, the sprawling metropolis, and the beautiful weather. There is the awesome ballpark that is packed with 56,000 fans every night. There are easier travel connections to the Pacific Rim, and the promise of global exposure. There is a relentless hunger for improvement that permeates the entire organisation.

There is also a welcoming collegiality to the Dodgers' ethos – a self-policed collective bargain, loosely marshalled by the avuncular Dave Roberts, that incubates competition and growth. Nobody pushes the Dodgers more than they push themselves, and each other, in the race for immortality. And to a certain calibre of player, that milieu matters more than money.

Just look at the masterful marketing of Ohtani and Yamamoto. That is why players want to be Dodgers. Just look at the no-fuss extensions given to Betts, Smith and Glasnow. That is why players want to be Dodgers. Just look at the tireless quest for marginal gains. That is why players want to be Dodgers.

Players want to be Dodgers because they know management will have their back and provide reinforcements whenever they are needed.

Players want to be Dodgers because they know where the team stands, and what it is trying to achieve, from one season to the next.

Players want to be Dodgers because they know what such a distinction means.

Playing alongside the world’s best is also timelessly appealing, of course, and the Dodgers have become a veritable clearinghouse of Cooperstown credentials – Cy Young and MVP awards strewn about like common furniture. Heck, Clayton Kershaw, the greatest pitcher of his generation, figures to be the Dodgers' fifth starter in 2025. They have become the Harlem Globetrotters on grass, and their galaxy of superstars attracts likeminded brethren in circular perpetuity.

Indeed, for all the talk of tax loopholes and free agent secret sauce, the Dodgers' main innovation – the catalyst for their runaway train – was persuading that first phalanx of stars to believe in the project and join them in realising it. This franchise was literally bankrupt just 13 years ago. Monumental effort was required to resuscitate the organisation, to even enable the big game hunting that netted marquee trailblazers like Adrián González and Zack Greinke. In turn, those figureheads smoothed the path for Betts, Freeman and Ohtani, whose magnetism attracted Yamamoto and Snell. The snowball keeps rolling, and its inexorable surge can feel unfair, but the Dodgers had the audacity to push said snowball in the first place. They are not credited enough for that.

Many teams have the means to operate like this – in ethos, if not in like-for-like finance – but the Dodgers stand alone in their brazen execution. Most MLB teams build to win 83 or 84 games and reserve an outside chance of lucking into a wildcard berth if everything falls right. A few target 90 wins and hope to achieve 95. But the Dodgers build for 105 wins and expect to win 110. That is the difference. They cannot abide uncertainty.

Ultimately, this is as well as we have ever seen a Major League Baseball franchise operated – utopian blueprints brought to life. The Dodgers want to tilt the axis of baseball power, and they do not care about the unintended consequences. Money opens the door and gets them to the table, but relevance, conviction and dedication clinch their emphatic deals.

Whether their bullish dominance is good for baseball – or if it strains moral credulity – is a separate debate entirely. But ever since Guggenheim Baseball Management succeeded Frank McCourt, the Dodgers have studied the rulebook and chased every avenue to push its boundaries. They remind me of the Brady-Belichick Patriots in this regard, and a similar legacy of supremacy will trail in their wake.

Since the days of Walter O’Malley, and the team’s migration west, the Dodgers have loomed with such monarchical intent. They have gestured towards empire in fits and starts, bringing seven world titles to Hollywood, but a true dynasty has never quite emerged. Now, though, that is a probability, not just a possibility, as the stars continue to align. Finally, the Dodgers have taken all those advantages, harnessed all that latent potential, and put it all together. They will probably rule for a generation.