It was not anticipated to look like this. A lineup filled with MVPs, a payroll that dominates other teams and a fanbase that anticipated a 100-win cruise control season. Yet there they are, barely into April and it already feels like, the walls are caving in. The vibe was off and the energy was flat. And the outcome? One can just say the Dodgers are learning the hard way that money does not buy chemistry. When annoyance starts spilling into postgame interviews, and veterans start sounding like end-of-season pressers in early April, you know something’s soberly out of the strike. The chaos has officially landed.

The Dodgers didn’t lose a playoff game. They lost to the Nationals on a random Tuesday night in April. But deciding by the postgame tone, you’d think the sky had collapsed. After the loss, veteran utility man and clubhouse voice Enrique Hernández didn’t hold back. “You have a lot of very seasoned people in this locker room. It’s realizing we have another 148 to go. And you know when you’re expected to win 162 games in a season, and you lose four in a week, then it could feel like the world is ending. But at the end of the day, we have 148 more. At some point, we were going to play (lousy) baseball, and it seemed like this was the week we did that,” he admitted, outspokenly summing up the team’s early-season funk. At $6.5 million this year, he’s not just here for depth—he’s here for leadership. And when your leaders sound defeated, it sends a cold message.

This isn’t just about one quote—it’s about a pattern. Through their first 13 games, the Dodgers dropped six, containing a series to teams they were expected to steamroll. The pitching’s been inconsistent, the bats have gone missing in key spots, and the body language? Flat. Hernández called their baseball “lousy”. He wasn’t wrong. A team with this much firepower shouldn’t be halting out of the gate. So what’s going wrong behind the closed bars?

It’s wild when you glance at the names: Mookie Betts. Shohei Ohtani. Freddie Freeman. Will Smith. James Outman. This isn’t a roster built to “grind” wins—it’s built to crush down. But all those stars don’t guarantee chemistry and that’s what seems to be missing right now. The Dodgers look less like a team and more like a collection of high-paid mercenaries. They’ve been in clutch situations, and when the margin gets tight, they’re slipping instead of finishing.

So what happens next? The Dodgers are no strangers to early bad luck—but this isn’t about doomed a couple of games. This is about identity. Manager Dave Roberts now faces the task of reviving a bullpen that looks mentally jammed. And for someone like Hernández, who’s seen championship highs and lows, voicing the internal panic might’ve been a way to reset the tone. The Dodgers don’t need to panic about players. But they need to worry about culture—and obstinacy.

Why the Dodgers’ struggles expose an intense roster imbalance

Beyond the headlines and mental postgame interviews, there’s a quieter issue looming in L.A.—a top-heavy roster with serious depth issues. While the Dodgers self-praised MVP firepower in the middle of their lineup, the supporting cast has tripped out of the gate. Chris Taylor — who also had three doubles and a triple on the season entering Friday, resulting in a slash line heavy on slugging, .484, but light on batting average with .198 and OBP of .267— has a simple justification for his homer-heavy output. Additionally, his rates for ground balls, which is 23.6 percent and line drives, which is 20 percent are much lower than his career rates of 36.8 percent and 29.0 percent respectively.

And it doesn’t stop with the offense. The bullpen has looked alarmingly shaky. In 2025, the Los Angeles Dodgers’ team ERA is 3.22, ranking them 6th in the league. While their ERA is relatively low, the team allows a few more home runs than some other teams in the league. They also have a WHIP of 1.28, placing them 15th overall. Names like Daniel Hudson and Alex Vesia haven’t found their groove, while the middle-inning bridge to Evan Phillips remains unreliable. Even with a rotation featuring Yamamoto and Glasnow, the Dodgers’ lack of late-game security makes every forefront feel fragile. These aren’t just growing pains. They’re red flags. And no matter how much money is on the field, baseball’s still a nine-man game—and right now, L.A. is playing failing in more ways than one.

Early-season sag doesn’t usually spark panic in L.A.—but this one feels different. If the Dodgers want to retrieve their swagger, it won’t come from stat sheets. It starts in the dugout, the clubhouse, and the energy they bring every night. Stay tuned—because this could just be the storm before their retaliation.