The Hater’s Guide to the 2024 World Series

This isn’t clickbait. This is engagement bait. This is subscription bait. This is “sign up for auto-renew, then get you hooked on Wordle and NYT Cooking” bait. But it’s also a deeper truth that resonates with a lot of baseball fans, and it goes something like this:

New York Yankees vs. Los Angeles Dodgers is the most annoying World Series matchup possible. It might be the most annoying World Series matchup ever, which seems hyperbolic until you start looking at previous matchups and realizing most of them didn’t have the full force of social media or the Pundit Industrial Complex behind them. Yes, I realize that articles like this are a part of the problem, but unavoidability is the only possible outcome.

Please note that this isn’t the same as the worst World Series matchup possible. For heaven’s sake, not by a long shot. The worst World Series matchup would be the Chicago White Sox vs. the Colorado Rockies, with the latter team being heavy favorites. In the actual 2024 World Series, there will be several future Hall of Famers playing, most of them in their absolute prime, doing unreal things to and with baseballs. It’s a very good World Series if you like to watch excellent players and displays of baseball ability. I’m actually excited to watch the baseball part of it, and you should be too.

That doesn’t mean it won’t be annoying, though. Let us count the ways. Haters, gather around. We have some hating to do.

Been there, done that

This World Series is a Simpsons episode from Season 43 where Homer gets a new job. It’s technically a fresh episode, but it’s a worn-out trope.

Oh, wow, the only cities that matter in the only country that matters, going head to head. Look at all the celebrities in the stands, everybody. Have you ever noticed how different these two cities and lifestyles are? New Yorkers are all “hey, I’m walkin’ here” and Los Angeles is like “Is that Bobby DeNiro? Hold my tiny dog, I’m going to say hi,” ha ha, it’s funny because it’s true. Put a brick wall behind me, toss me a microphone and throw a spotlight on. This material is too good to waste.

Even if you can block out the noise that comes with two cultural centers having even more attention paid to them, there’s the part where the baseball stuff has been done before. When my mom was growing up in the 1940s and 1950s, she thought the World Series was only what you called it when the Yankees and Dodgers played each other, just like The Iron Bowl is what they call the Alabama/Auburn football games. She doesn’t recall this as something that makes her laugh; she shakes her head ruefully. That’s how often the Yankees and Dodgers used to play in the World Series.

This matchup happened in 1947, 1949, 1952, 1953, 1955 and 1956, and that was enough for seven generations. Then it happened again twice in the 1970s and once in the 1980s. Yankees vs. Dodgers is a throwback to those bleak, binary times, when it felt like nobody else had a chance. Mostly because they didn’t.

This is the matchup that Fox has wanted for decades

Every October, I warm my heart by thinking about Fox executives who lie awake at night, worrying about a Cleveland Guardians and Milwaukee Brewers World Series. These chuzzlewits and pecksniffs aren’t thinking about the excitement a pennant would bring to the areas that haven’t enjoyed enough of them (or any of them at all). They’re not thinking about specific matchups and baseball-related quirks. They’re thinking about eyeballs and star power.

And there’s something to that. There will be more eyeballs for this specific matchup because there will be more people tuning in, and they’re tuning in because they feel there’s a likelier chance that they’ll be entertained by this World Series. Craig Calcaterra smartly compared the combination of high ratings and noise complaints to Yogi Berra’s famous quip, “Nobody goes there anymore, it’s too crowded.”

Except I always knew what Berra meant by that. The people he cared about didn’t want to deal with it. The Mick and Billy Martin didn’t need to be seen. They didn’t need the attention that came with an ultra-hip nightclub. They were purists. And I realize that I’m using famous Yankees to represent the cool people in this analogy, which means it’ll be tricky to resolve. But that’s what paragraph breaks are for.

More than any of this, though, it’s the idea that television executives will be happy. This is how they make their money:

They make money from eroding your sanity. Their homes are built, brick by brick, from the ashes of your grey matter. They wanted Yankees vs. Dodgers because it would mean they could tell more people that they can have the kind of wi-fi that lets them take ventriloquism classes in their attic, where there was previously a dead spot. This is the World Series that ropes in the casuals, the barely interested, the people who will be surprised that there’s a pitch clock now. They’ll tap out after an inning once they remember that baseball isn’t for them, but not before they understand that they can finally do ballet in their man caves.

Sometimes I’ll be falling asleep and think about “His father is the district attorney” out of nowhere. That’s a piece of my brain cracking off and floating away, like a calving ice shelf, never to be the same again. Someone has to pay. Preferably, these someones would pay by getting every Guardians vs. Brewers World Series possible.

I do not care for the Yankees and Dodgers. They insist upon themselves

Both of these franchises stare at themselves in the mirror when no one’s looking. They also do it when everyone’s looking. Monuments and plaques, a deserved sense of history that still manages to be overblown at the same time. No mascots. Jerseys that have barely changed in a century.

They insist upon themselves. They think they’re better than you and your team. And, sure, by getting to the World Series, that’s technically true, but they don’t have to insist upon themselves so danged hard all the time. It’s much funnier when entitled, history-drunk teams keep getting so close and losing year after year.

Except for the 49ers. That’s enough of that. There’s probably a statute of limitations with that one. It’s simply not funny anymore.

Everyone is going to bring up the payrolls for both teams, but they’re going to miss the larger point

Yes, the Yankees and Dodgers have more resources than every other team. They spend more money. They’re spoiled and so are their fans. They have advantages that other teams don’t have with more visibility, cultural cachet, history and purchasing power. People will talk about how much the Dodgers committed to players this offseason (technically over a billion dollars if you don’t adjust for inflation and deferred salaries), and people will talk about how much Aaron Judge, Giancarlo Stanton and Gerrit Cole will make. It’s unavoidable.

But that’s letting the other owners off the hook. Mookie Betts is on the Dodgers because Fenway Sports Group Holdings LLC worried about how his salary would affect their abilities to add players to Liverpool and drivers to RFK Racing. They made a business decision, and they absolutely deserve to feel bad about it. The Pittsburgh Pirates let Barry Bonds go because they lacked vision. The Chicago Cubs let Greg Maddux go because they didn’t realize how eager the North Side was to make the team a part of the regional identity. The Washington Nationals didn’t commit to Bryce Harper or Juan Soto because they figured they’d find another teenage outfielder with Hall of Fame talent at the Teenage Outfielder with Hall of Fame Talent store.

All of these owners are weenies. They’re occasionally pragmatic and occasionally silly, but they’re mostly just weenies. They should spend money on good players and keep them away from the Yankees and Dodgers! Especially the players they draft and develop.

More people should be saying, “The San Diego Padres had the right idea” instead of “We need to stop the Yankees and Dodgers from doing this,” and the inability to get to that epiphany will make the discourse even more tiresome.

Also, the Padres should have kept Juan Soto, too. They’re not off the hook, here. Michael King is cool, but c’mon. Look at what you’ve done.

A good World Series? Perhaps. A great World Series is possible. Heck, give us some Game 7 hijinks, and this could go down as one of the classics. Shohei Ohtani, returning to the mound in the 19th inning of Game 7, in front of a stunned Dodger Stadium crowd, because there simply aren’t any other pitchers available, and he’s willing to make the sacrifice. All he has to do is get through Juan Soto, Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton.

We can dream.

But even though it has the potential to be the best World Series, it’s guaranteed to be the most annoying World Series possible. The wrong people have wanted it for years. The team that wins will throw the trophy in an arrogance juicer and get a fresh glass, even though they weren’t really running low. The losing team will feel even more entitled at this time next year. And at every moment, before every inning, with every joke and comment on the pre- and post-game show, you will be told just how special this all is.

Guardians in six. They have the bullpen, even if the Brewers’ lineup is underrated. What a beautiful, simple and boring dream that would have been.

(Top photo illustration by Sean Reilly / The Athletic: Orlando Ramirez / Getty Images; Mary DeCicco / MLB Photos via Getty Images; Katelyn Mulcahy / Getty Images; Carmen Mandato / Getty Images; New York Yankees / Getty Images)