Sometimes you want to go … where you know everybody’s name.
Just days after the MLB lockout ended last spring, Freddie Freeman found himself walking into the Dodgers’ clubhouse at Camelback Ranch, a stranger in a strange land after 15 years in the Atlanta Braves organization.
Freeman set a challenge for himself – learn the names of three new people each day during spring training. When he walked into Camelback Ranch again this spring, there was no need for that.
“I’m a very big first-name basis guy. I like to learn everyone’s name because it makes it personal for me,” Freeman said. “So when I don’t know someone’s name it makes me uneasy. Obviously I know pretty much everyone’s first name now.
“The comfort level is right where I want it to be.”
The move from Atlanta to Los Angeles last year was jarring for Freeman and his family. Tears were shed – lots of them. Both publicly and privately.
“My wife and I – we cried for like 19 straight days,” Freeman says with a chuckle, an admission that only sounds hyperbolic to someone who didn’t see his emotional, tear-filled press conference when the Dodgers went to Atlanta in June
Freeman had idealized his relationship with the Braves organization, particularly in the wake of their 2021 World Series title. When things ended, he felt blindsided by the organization, betrayed by his agent to some degree, and untethered.
“I remember the first thing I said to him,” said Mookie Betts who went through his own breakup in 2020, traded from the Boston Red Sox to the Dodgers. “It was probably two or three days before we even talked. I mean, we had BP, practice and I never said a word to him. Then we hit in the same group one day and I literally just said, ‘Bro, I ain’t trying to blow you up or talk to you or anything. But if you ever need anybody to talk to about it, I just went through it. I’m here.’
“After that, it was probably two days later we talked. And it wasn’t even like we talked, it was just getting to know each other outside of being on first base. … All I’m here for him is just to be his friend. He’ll take care of the baseball stuff.”
While dealing with the stress of relocating a family of five across the country – “we had a lot going on,” Freeman said – he took care of the baseball stuff remarkably well. In his first year as a Dodger, Freeman hit .325 (a career-high for a full season) with a .918 OPS (second in the National League) while leading the majors in hits (199) and doubles (47) and tying with Betts for the NL lead in runs scored (117). He finished fourth in NL MVP voting, his fifth consecutive season in the Top 10 (including his MVP award in 2021).
There were no signs of the upheaval in his life when Freeman stepped on the field.
“Did a good job then, huh?” he said to that, laughing.
Dodgers manager Dave Roberts marveled at just how well Freeman performed under the stress of the changes in his life.
“It’s a remarkable super power he has – and most athletes have it – to compartmentalize,” Roberts said. “That was to a crazy degree that he was able to do that. … Life on the field, off the field and to be able to perform – it weighed on him all year. But it didn’t impact his performance. It was remarkable.”
His wife, Chelsea, was a big part of enabling that, Freeman said. So was his father who advised him to “do exactly what you did with the Braves and do it with the Dodgers.”
“That was a little light that went on,” Freeman said. “My wife and I were doing devotions and then he came with the ‘Boom,’ a smack in the face. My wife and I were doing the spiritual side and then here comes Papa Free with the haymaker. Sometimes you need that.”
And sometimes you need closure. Freeman needed it more than he realized before the June series in Atlanta. Afterwards, he apologized to Andrew Friedman for taking so long to acclimate and talked privately with Clayton Kershaw about Kershaw’s comments that he hoped the Dodgers weren’t “second fiddle” in Freeman’s mind.
In his second year with the Dodgers, that drama is over.
“Gosh, it’s completely different. He’s just much more settled, comfortable,” Roberts said. “I think we’re seeing the real version of Freddie this year. I think last year, coming into the season, there was just a lot of things that were unfinished as far as closure. Now … he’s just in a much better head space.”
That “real version” involves Freeman stepping forward in more of a leadership role. He organized a team dinner in Arizona last week when the Dodgers went on their first road trip of the season.
His influence on the team is visible every day. Freeman does a daily defensive drill with coach Dino Ebel in front of the Dodgers dugout. Miguel Vargas has started doing it as well and Betts has recently added it to his routine. A hitting drill Freeman frequently does in the cage aimed at instilling an all-fields approach was adopted by Gavin Lux last year, rookie James Outman and even veteran J.D. Martinez this year.
“Be patient, it’s going to be okay,” Freeman said when asked what he would say if he could go back in time and talk himself through his first year in Los Angeles.
In the second year of his six-year, $162 million contract, Freeman said he now sees the Dodgers as his long-term home. On the verge of 2,000 career hits, Freeman could be closing in on 3,000 – and the Hall of Fame rubber stamp that milestone usually confers – when this contract expires shortly after his 38th birthday.
“My ultimate goal is for them to not want me to leave after six years,” Freeman said.
“That’s the ultimate goal because it means I’ve played well and they love me here. That’s all you can ask for.”
