Hey, Zach here. Over the weekend, the Dodgers had Pride Night. Clayton Kershaw scrawled a Bible verse onto his hat, next to the special rainbow logo. The verse, which references rainbows as a covenant from God, is not explicitly anti-gay, but why put it there, on that night? Pretty clearly, it was Kershaw’s subtle rebuke of the hat’s actual purpose.

It’s the second time in three years Kershaw has balked at the Dodgers’ Pride event. In 2023, he criticized the organization for honoring an LGBTQ group called Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence that dresses as nuns in drag for performances, protests and charitable purposes. This year’s version was unspoken, but it was also pointed and unnecessary.

Back in 2023, Kershaw said of his objection, "This has nothing to do with the LGBTQ community or Pride or anything like that. This is simply a group that was making fun of a religion, that I don't agree with.” I’d venture to say this verse had something to do with the LGBTQ community. It showed that he could not even bear to wear a hat to support the gay fans who support the Dodgers every day without making it clear that he does not, in fact, support them.

That’s a brutally disappointing position on its face, but it’s worse because that 2023 experience undoubtedly showed him that people were hurt by his stance, and he was not swayed.

A whole lot of American life right now is an urgent quest to state our core values, and our indignation at flagrant violations of them, in such a way that someone might think or behave or vote differently. The hurt and the anger is a reaction, a natural and useful one. But changing minds is the point, and it does happen.

I came across an Astros fan on Bluesky who, in May, posted a picture with Josh Hader, the closer whose racist and homophobic teenage tweets surfaced earlier in his career. The fan wore a “Gays for Josh Hader” T-shirt and Hader smiled for the picture through the ballpark netting. This was not their first interaction. The fan posted back in 2023 that they had a “great conversation about gay rights” with Hader.

Now 31, Hader was immediately apologetic when the tweets came to light, but his reputation was tarnished. He went through sensitivity training and worked with Billy Bean, the former player who came out as gay and became an influential MLB executive working to advance diversity and inclusion in the game.

“He really wanted to learn about how I grew up,” Hader said of the experience when Bean died. “I was able to talk to him and how he went through the game of baseball in his time, being gay and not being able to be himself around the clubhouse. And how that made him feel.”

I don’t know what’s in Hader’s head, but the evidence at hand suggests he empathized, learned and changed. Even after absorbing vitriol that, while deserved, could have easily hardened him.

Kershaw is savvy enough to know that this gesture wouldn’t pose even the threat of consequences, in contrast to Hader’s tweets or the players (such as Kevin Pillar and Jarren Duran) who have used gay slurs on camera. The only article-length coverage of Kershaw’s hat appears to have been fawning headlines from slimy right-wing culture warriors.

It shouldn’t take a firestorm to shift someone’s perspective, to win some basic human respect for others, yet Kershaw and Hader make a strong case for why righteous indignation is often necessary. Kershaw may have the tact to avoid answering for his backwards thinking, but it’s Hader — and those who helped him along the way — who should feel a sense of pride.

If coaches are never culpable, do they matter?

by Hannah Keyser

I like Nationals manager Dave Martinez. I don’t have an especially compelling case for why that is, and I don’t know if anyone except beat writers (maybe?) can tell if a manager is actually good or bad. But: The 2019 season was my first covering baseball full time and Martinez certainly seemed to be doing something right then. I’ve been even more impressed since. I’ve said — not jokingly, and I think even on television — that his ability to be so locked in on each individual play in a lost season that he’s blowing up at umpires over baseline rulings should garner Manager of the Year consideration. Seriously, if your job is to lead a bunch of young guys to five-straight 90+ loss seasons, I think it sets an admirable example of what you could call managerial hustle to be fighting for every out, even after the fact.

All of that is preamble. I also think being a big league manager seems like one of the most maddening jobs. The grind is grueling and the scrutiny relentless and often you’re left to explain, defend, and take the fall for decisions you didn’t make and performances that are ultimately outside your control.

But you do have some effect, right? Like, you’re there for a reason and it’s not just to deflect daily inquiries about injury updates?

Over the weekend, after the Nationals lost their seventh game in a row, a reporter started to ask about accountability:

"When you look at the offense as a whole, I think you guys haven't produced like you've wanted to this month. For you, how much of that is on the players, on coaching…”

Martinez cuts them off:

"It's never on coaching. Never on coaching. Coaches work their asses off every single day. We're not gonna finger point here and say it's the coaches. It's never on the coaches. Okay? They work hard. The message is clear. All the work is done prior. So sometimes they gotta go out there and they gotta play the game. It's always been about the players. Always.I played this game a long time. Never once have I blamed a coach for anything. I mean, we worked our asses off to get better, they gave us information, and we used it. These guys understand what the game is. These coaches, I never had such a group of coaches that worked as hard as they do. I mean, usually they go over everything, they sit players every day. These coaches they work their asses off. And I know every coaching staff is like that. The players know, sometimes you gotta put the onus on the players, they gotta go out there and play the game, and play the game in the right way. We can't hit for them, we can't catch the ball for them, we can't pitch for them, we can't throw strikes for them. They gotta do that."

If you want to see for yourself how adamant he is:

(relevant clip starts at 2:20)

Players were reportedly “shocked, dismayed, and pissed.” The next day, Martinez attempted to walk back his comments by claiming he never mentioned the players, which we can all see and hear that he did.