As the Dodgers prepare for their highly anticipated return to the Bronx, a sense of fulfillment washes over me. “I’m almost done,” I find myself reflecting, a thought that has resonated increasingly over the past few months. Who would have imagined back in April 2021, amidst the hustle of Oakland, that five and a half years later, I would stand on the cusp of achieving my goal: witnessing the Dodgers play in every MLB stadium, and even in Tokyo?
This past week has been a whirlwind, a roller coaster of emotions leading up to this moment. I intended to share a field report from Chicago, but I realized I had already expressed my thoughts in the Guide Entry. While I did manage to secure a decent seat at the ballpark, I quickly learned that the only viable option was what I now dub the “Daikin Park Solution” — shelling out $200-400 per game for a club seat. When that’s the only choice, staying home suddenly seems like the better plan. My spot for the series finale appeared promising until the influx of fans disrupted my view with their constant movement.
As I stand on the brink of completing my MLB circuit, I want to address a question I’ve frequently encountered this season: “Michael, you seem a lot meaner to Blue Jays fans than Yankees fans; what gives?” While I don’t aim to be unkind, I find it hard to muster sympathy for Blue Jays supporters. Their organization and fanbase seem to embrace the idea of coming in second, a sentiment that I struggle to understand. Yes, the Dodgers might be going overboard with their Game 7 bobbleheads, but there’s a certain irony in the Blue Jays celebrating their near misses.
Reflecting on the 2017 World Series, a time when I felt the sting of loss, I acknowledge that the Dodgers were tantalizingly close to victory, yet fell short. The Astros’ cheating scandal added another layer of complexity to that heartbreak, but I’ve never suggested that the Dodgers should simply be awarded the 2017 title. They had their chances, and at the end of the day, three is less than four.
This backdrop makes it all the more frustrating to hear fans justify the Blue Jays’ 2025 aspirations. Losing in the World Series is tough, and I empathize with that struggle. However, I’ve avoided watching Game 7 of 2017 for years, only learning its outcome by accident after the Dodgers’ 2020 championship. The pain of watching a team attempt to rise only to falter again is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
In discussing the Dodgers’ toughest opponent in 2025, I maintain that it was the Philadelphia Phillies. Their series could have extended further if it had been a Best of 7, showcasing the effort it took to make Shohei Ohtani look human. Yet, it all ended in a way that would have made Bill Buckner cringe.
While the Blue Jays provided an entertaining World Series last year, I wouldn’t label it as “good.” Games 1, 4, and 5 were largely uneventful, and watching an exhausted team is rarely captivating — especially for fans who paid a premium to be there. Game 2, however, stood out as a tense battle, where Yoshinobu Yamamoto outmatched Kevin Gausman, while Game 3 delivered its own brand of chaos. Ultimately, baserunning blunders cost the Jays dearly in Games 6 and 7, which were filled with nail-biting moments.
Statistically, the Blue Jays edged out the Dodgers in that series, much like the New York Yankees did in their own Fall Classic. Yet, I didn’t hear Yankees fans claiming they deserved the win. The complexities of postseason narratives can often overshadow the simple truth: losing stings.
As the Dodgers gear up to face the Yankees for the first time since that fateful night in 2024, I confront a bittersweet reality. The only team I have yet to see play in person is the New York Yankees. I had the opportunity to attend Games 4 and 5 of the World Series but chose to hold back for personal reasons.
In preparation for this Bronx return, I’m reminded of some playoff coverage that never saw the light of day two winters ago. The locals are sure to give the Dodgers a raucous welcome back to New York. Joe Kelly and Miguel Rojas have hinted at what many saw on the field: the Yankees didn’t belong in that World Series. Typically, I disengage from post-playoff commentary, but this year felt different.
Dave Roberts remarked that the NLDS represented the Dodgers’ most significant challenge, dubbing it the “real World Series.” When reliever Joe Kelly voiced his frustrations about the Yankees, I couldn’t help but think how bold it was for someone not on the October roster to weigh in.
With the Dodgers claiming their second title in four years, I’ve let a lot slide, including the rough moments in Game 4. Yet, when a fan interfered with Gleyber Torres’ ball in Game 2, the reaction was justifiable horror. The following day, I shared footage of the incident with my mother, who was largely unaware of the playoff drama. Her reaction was visceral, reflecting the broader sentiment among fans.
Even after the World Series concluded, Max Muncy expressed his anger over the Game 4 incident. Meanwhile, Aaron Boone’s response felt like an unwelcome distraction from the moment.
Adding to the chaos, one of my favorite actors, Wendell Pierce, was chased from Yankee Stadium. Pierce, known for his role in *The Wire*, is a fan of both the Yankees and Dodgers, attending games in both cities. It was disheartening to see him face such hostility instead of enjoying the moment. His experience only fueled my frustration with the events surrounding the Yankees this postseason.
While it’s easy to generalize about Yankees fans based on the actions of a few, I refuse to do so. My visit to Yankee Stadium is long overdue, and despite my previous apprehensions, the Bronx now stands alongside Houston as a place I dread to visit. This weekend, I’ll finally get to experience it firsthand, and I’m eager to share my thoughts upon return.
Note: This recap is an independently written summary based on publicly available reporting.
NYM
PHI
TB
BOS
LAD
NYY
PIT
CLE
CHW
TOR
TEX
ATL
MIA
MIL
MIN
CHC
SD
KC
BAL
HOU
CIN
COL
DET
LAA
STL
ARI
WSH
OAK
SF
SEA