There’s a lot of talk about what baseball “needs.” I’m not discounting some of that talk. I engage in some of that talk. Baseball would do well to find ways to get more balls in play, more plays on the bases, more fights (if they can avoid hideous injuries in the things that start such fights), and better marketing of its stars. But at the end of the day, people watch sports for drama. For emotion. For wins and losses.
Which is why the NL West race is shaping up to be a boon for the game.
You’ve got the Dodgers—the defending champions, one of the greatest rosters created, a mix of some of the sport’s current greatest heroes (How could you dislike Mookie Betts?) and its greatest current villain. (How could you not hate Trevor Bauer at least a little bit?) They play in one of the largest media markets in the country. They’re an established team with a fan base that stretches across socioeconomic spectra. They’re richer than rich, but not bumbling. They may be a few trash-can bangs four years ago away from being a dynasty.
Opposite them, you’ve got the Padres—led by one of the most exciting players in the game (the face of up-and-coming baseball), aggressively pursuing their rivals to the north, a natural little brother to Los Angeles the way the Red Sox were long a natural little brother to the Yankees. They’re not in a huge market, but they’re an established team with a long-suffering fanbase, and they do play in one of America’s biggest cities.
And as an intriguing third wheel, you’ve got the Giants—the Dodgers’ traditional rival, playing in another massive city of immense cultural influence (one that, as a bonus, really hates L.A.), injured and rebuilding and far, far, far away from both these teams on paper and yet somehow right in the thick of this as Memorial Day rounds the bend and standings start to mean something, all while the rest of the National League scuffles enough that a third place finish might still mean a playoff berth.
It’s a compelling trio. It’s a prominent trio. It’s a marketable trio. And it might not even take much marketing.
The thrill of the playoff chase is that every game counts, and every game counts more and more as the season goes on, and every single day from the Trade Deadline through clinchings in the season’s final week (or final day, if it’s close), the intensity and the desperation and the willingness to push players to their limits grows. And in this particular case, there’s a good chance we end up in a spot where these three have really just been playing for seeding within their half of the bracket, with the NL East and Central champions looking poised to sit at what I’ve probably already called the kids table on the other side of the National League, all of which means that the regular season drama will explode into postseason drama with a do-or-die game between the two that don’t win the division followed by a five-game melee featuring some of the biggest stars in the game and maybe a big collection of little guys.
Major League Baseball is not a strong marketing organization. They do a lot of dumb things. But with a natural race like this one…you don’t really need to market it. You can, sure, but it mostly just kind of happens. It just goes on, and people tune in, and it’s not like Major League Baseball needs to completely capture the entirety of the United States as much as it needs to draw a few new fans in these media markets and invigorate the fans they already have.
There’s a long way to go. But this race could be a classic. And while baseball might not “need” a classic race, it could probably use this one.
