By: Peter Bartlett
On July 2nd, 2025, Clayton Kershaw of the Los Angeles Dodgers made history. He struck out three White Sox hitters and, in doing so, became the 20th person in all of baseball to have collected 3,000 strikeouts. Among an even more elite company, Kershaw is just the fourth lefty to ever achieve such a feat, joining legends of the game in CC Sabathia, Steve Carlton, and Randy Johnson. It was a fantastical mark, and a fantastical night. Clayton Kershaw will, without a doubt, be a first ballot Hall of Famer and will be remembered as one of the best to ever play a game that’s been played for a very, very long time.
And yet.
And yet something about July 2nd, 2025, was so very saddening. It wasn’t that the Dodgers continue to perform beneath their own billing despite how much talent loads their roster, and it wasn’t that the Houston Astros won another game despite the cosmic scales of justice saying they shouldn’t. What was sad was how long it took.
For those of us who weren’t watching this meaningless regular-season major league baseball game well into the middle of the night, let me explain. Kershaw got three strikeouts to reach his monumental milestone. He came into the night with 2,997 career K’s, meaning if he could strike out the side in the first inning, he could put a definitive marker in the sand early and say, “look I am one of the best to ever do it”, behold. And he was playing against a team that could help him out. The Chicago White Sox had set a modern-day record for how much they lost a year before, and they weren’t doing much better this time around. The Sox were 28-58 on the year. Their offense is nothing to write home about. Kershaw has notched 68 games in his career where he picked up double-digit strikeouts. He is one of the most prolific strikeout pitchers ever.
Three strikeouts. Three to make history. Three strikeouts to do something only four other people have ever done. Kershaw is at home, where he’s spent all his career, Dodger Stadium. He has an All-Star catcher in Will Smith behind the plate calling pitches. He’s got the state of California on its feet, fans losing their mind, and a pathetic team in front of him. And he can’t do it.
He gets to two strikes on eight of his first eleven batters, and Dodger Stadium shakes with excitement and people take out their phones, and the announcers talk about his amazing career. He gets none of them. None of them. He needs three strikeouts to finish an amazing accomplishment and he just can’t. He lets up nine hits. He allows four runs. He allows a home run. It’s a no-doubter and he hangs his head in shame as soon as it leaves the bat. He walks a batter. He gets a K in the third, and everyone starts to feel it again, but none in the fourth. He gets one in the fifth. He needs one more strikeout. Just one. Clayton Kershaw is 37 years old, and it is a hot July evening in Los Angeles, and now you start to worry.
You see, Kershaw is tired. Kershaw is sweaty. Kershaw is clearly struggling. Kershaw is not who he once was. And he is now at 93 pitches. There have been signs, you see, that the road is coming to an end for the three-time Cy Young winner. In his last two playoff starts, he has gone a total of 5.1 innings and has allowed nine runs. Manager Dave Robinson has stated that he’s not managing tonight like any other night. He’s going to give Kerhsaw as much leash as he can so that history can be made, to hell with the outcome. But a new fear has started to creep up on the broadcasters and fans, and it’s souring the air of what should be a beautiful night. What if he doesn’t do it tonight? He’s tired, it’s hot, and he’s not pitching well. He’s surrendered four runs to the White Sox, and despite getting two strikes on so many hitters, he just can’t throw that third magical pitch to end this conversation. What if he has to leave? What if he has to sit down and try again some other day?
Then bad goes to worse. Will Smith steals an out from Kershaw with a throw down to third and the Dodgers’ third baseman, Max Muncy, gets injured on the play, holding his knee. Everyone panics. Muncy leaves. Kershaw is at 99 pitches, and he is gassed.
The air is excited but there’s a note of anxiety infecting the broadcast I’m watching on my laptop hundreds of miles away. Vinny Capra is at the plate and there are two strikes and then he does it. He finds his last pitch and the 100th of the game, makes history. Everyone sighs in relief and Kershaw exits the game. Standing ovations, graphics, triumphant music, cut to his wife, his kids, people ecstatically watching on, and everyone smiles. The Dodgers win 5-4 and what does anyone remember days, weeks, months, years later? That Kershaw hit 3,000.
The reason that I like sports is that they are a microcosm of the human condition. You see everything about what we go through on the field. And July 2nd, 2025, told us a story of triumph and success, but if you actually watched the game it told us a story that’s a lot more harrowing. Time is indiscriminate; it comes for us all. You can be the best, as Kershaw has been at three separate points in his career, and time will still come for you. Your body will slow, your reflexes will weaken, and you won’t be able to do what came so easily before. We as humans try and remember around this. We think of the amazing things people still do when age has left them struggling and we say look they still got it, there’s hope. I’m not here to take anything away from one of the best ever. Kershaw can still do things with a baseball that less than 3% of the world population can do; he can strike out people at the major league level. But not like he could, not like he has.
One day, there will be someone better than Kershaw. A better lefty will come along and do more than he did. Even now, it looks like Tarik Skubal has taken on the unbeatable southpaw mantle that Clayton Kershaw has left behind. And then I will tell my kids that they don’t know what they’re talking about, you should’ve seen the way ole Kershaw slung that curveball, and they will roll their eyes. Being the best may only ever be a temporary feat, but 3,000 is a number no one can ever take away from Mr. Kershaw.
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