October 9, 2024.
There’s a certain weight in the air of San Diego, as if the ocean is holding its breath. The Padres just pulled off a significant 16-7 victory against the Los Angeles Dodgers, pushing them to a point where they seem close to grasping an elusive control.
This isn’t simply about winning a series; it’s a rivalry that has remained overshadowed for too long.
Meanwhile, the Dodgers appear to be hanging on by a thread, showing signs of fragility despite their best efforts to seem unshaken. Their roster, though held together with a mix of spirit and thinly veiled bravado, lacks its usual strength. With their rotation depleted, what’s left feels like a makeshift bullpen trying to hold back a tide.
And yet, the Dodgers’ All-Star first baseman, Freddie Freeman, is struggling through a sprained ankle. Each step feels like a small battle, and an hour before the game, the visible strain tells a story of determination laced with discomfort.
The Padres are keenly aware of this shift in dynamics. You can see it in how they carry themselves: confidence seems to radiate from them, their swings are easier, and their focus sharper. It feels like that chaotic moment when blood is sensed in the water.
They’ve decided to start Dylan Stopp on short rest, not out of desperation but from a place of belief. This is the kind of moment players dream about—much like those childhood fantasies of striking a game-winning pitch in the backyard—this is their opportunity to step out from behind the Giants’ shadow and finally claim what feels rightfully theirs.
Hours pass, and everything seems to shift.
However, the Dodgers, much like legends steeped in folklore, refuse to go quietly.
Eight relievers. Twenty-seven outs. Still, no runs.
The hush that enveloped San Diego after the final whistle didn’t just signal the end of a game; it hinted at the dawn of something larger.
Time doesn’t just remember the outcomes; it holds onto every small moment it could have changed.
That night, the Padres not only lost the game; they lost grasp of the narrative.
Because since that bullpen match, the Dodgers have not merely survived—they have metamorphosed. They turned into a sharper, more unforgiving entity, almost inevitable like a force of nature. They went on to clinch the 2024 World Series, followed by yet another in 2025. Now, as another season draws near in 2026, they’re ambitiously pursuing a three-peat.
Yet, in the realm of sports chatter, murmurs of discontent emerged.
“The Dodgers are buying a championship!”
But there’s an uncomfortable reality here: the Padres played a role in sculpting this Dodgers dynasty.
Baseball thrives on its antagonists; every good tale requires them, just as every conflict seeks resolution. The Yankees have occupied that villain role for years. Now, the Dodgers have inherited that mantle.
With a salary exceeding $300 million and a roster that feels excessively fortified—like playing a video game with limitless resources—the perception of villainy is palpable.
But to be a villain doesn’t mean passivity. They’ve been honed through struggles and rivalries. Failing is part of the game.
And no other team has pressed the Dodgers to their limits quite like the Padres have.
The “what if” scenario is hazardous in baseball. It lingers like an unresolved pitch.
What if the Padres had secured that win that fateful night?
What if they had thwarted the Dodgers and pursued their own World Series title?
Would Dave Roberts still be managing in Los Angeles? Would he have faced the pressure after yet another early playoff exit?
Would free agents have looked north instead of south on their journey to Los Angeles?
Would we be discussing a Padres dynasty instead?
These questions aren’t openly pondered in the Padres’ clubhouse; they tend to be buried.
“The ‘what-ifs’ are always there,” remarks Padres manager Craig Stammen, who has experienced victory over the Dodgers in 2022 and was part of the front office in 2024. “I try to focus on moving ahead, on becoming stronger.”
The lineup doesn’t aim to rewrite history. They’re working on carving out their path through the same fires that strengthened the Dodgers.
“They played better than us,” one player admitted about the 2024 series. “Winning Game 5 isn’t just luck.”
Manny Machado, the face of the franchise, finds the “what could have been” largely irrelevant.
“I never really dwelled on that,” Machado said. “We had a talented squad, but we came up short. That’s just how it goes.”
This highlights the gulf between fans and players. While fans may relive each moment obsessively, players are often compelled to move on.
Yet, amid that movement, an awareness of missed opportunities lingers.
“We knew we had a strong lineup. We all believed we could take the World Series,” said infielder Jake Cronenworth.
The Dodgers acknowledged the strength posed by the Padres; they, too, felt the pressure.
Walkers Buehler, now donning the Padres brown after being a previous hero for the Dodgers, remarked, “Real changes began when teams revamped through free agency. Winning the World Series in 2024 also means that quite the likelihood of some changes were a bit exaggerated.”
He is correct. Dynasties aren’t products of mere chance. They depend on infrastructure, culture, and philosophy.
Yet, pressure propels everything forward.
The Padres applied that pressure strongly.
Facing the Dodgers in 2024 was a stark reminder: talent isn’t a standalone solution. Depth and health can’t be guaranteed.
The Dodgers reacted as only elite teams know how: by investing. They committed to spending more and developing better. They became relentless in chasing excellence.
Across the league, that relentless drive is often misread as a sign of wrongdoing.
“They’re ruining baseball,” some claim.
It’s a superficial narrative.
But within the Padres’ locker room, perspectives shift.
“I don’t see it as them destroying the sport,” reflects outfielder Jackson Merrill. “I find it exciting. I appreciate their spending. Any team wanting to compete should follow suit.”
This sentiment is challenging, almost provocative.
The Dodgers aren’t cheating—if anything, they’re revealing the system’s flaws.
“They’re putting winning teams on the field. You can’t blame them for that,” Cronenworth stated. “Peter Seidler aimed for the same for us. We’re simply coming from different market circumstances.”
That’s likely where the ache lies. The Padres, in their pursuit, tried to elevate salaries and chase top talents. They believed they could stand alongside the Dodgers.
For a moment, they did.
But baseball is rarely forgiving.
It can be brutal in erasing past victories.
Now, the Dodgers find themselves at a crucial crossroads, chasing history while grappling with ongoing disputes regarding fairness in the league.
The irony isn’t lost on anyone. The team that nearly halted their momentum is the same team that inadvertently helped propel it.
As the 2026 season debut approaches, the Padres aren’t haunted by their past playoff failures; they’re striving for relevance against an unyielding dynasty.
When asked about vanquishing the Dodgers’ reign in the National League West, Stammen’s response was straightforward, “I’ll do what it takes to put forth my best each day.”
Sounds simple, yet it’s far from easy.
Beating the Dodgers now demands more than just raw talent. Precision, health, timing—all these play a role. Perhaps, just perhaps, this is the moment the baseball gods might look favorably.
So, what if the Padres had triumphed that night?
It’s tough to imagine the Dodgers maintaining their current strength. Maybe free agency would tilt differently. Power could sway south instead of north. Maybe it’s the Padres who would be viewed as reshaping the sport.
Or, as nobody really wants to face, the Dodgers could still find a way to prevail.
The Padres didn’t merely miss their chance. They pushed the limits of their rivals, molding the monster without sealing the deal.
Like a fighter who drives their opponent to the ropes but hesitates for that crucial moment, they allowed the Dodgers space to recover—all they needed.
Both teams prepare for opening day on Thursday, as the sun shines brightly over Chavez Canyon and Petco Park.
Yet, the Dodgers carry a target on their backs heavier than before. They’re in pursuit of legacy, and regardless of public sentiment, they’re dominating discussions across baseball.
If you trace back the origins of this dynasty, you won’t really end the story in Los Angeles.
It culminates in San Diego.
That pivotal night when the Padres had the Dodgers precisely where they wished.
And let them slip away.
