Why Clayton Kershaw’s Retirement Hits Harder Than You Think

Clayton Kershaw is retiring, and I don’t think we’re ready for it.

Sure, we’ve seen the signs: injuries piling up, velocity dipping, and fewer starts. But actually saying goodbye to Kershaw? That feels different. He wasn’t just the Los Angeles Dodgers’ ace. He was baseball’s North Star for pitching greatness in the 21st century.

And here’s the truth: we’ll never see another one like him.

Clayton Kershaw’s Retirement is Filled With Emotions

More Than Just Dominance

We all know the numbers. Three Cy Youngs. An MVP. A career ERA under 2.50 in a sport that’s been tilted toward hitters for most of his career. Over 3,100 strikeouts. A no-hitter that was one throwing error away from being perfect.

But the thing that set Kershaw apart wasn’t just the dominance; it was the consistency. For more than a decade, you could pencil him in every fifth day and know the Dodgers had the upper hand. In an era defined by bullpen games and openers, Kershaw was the throwback ace who carried the load.

And if you grew up watching him, you didn’t just see strikeouts—you saw stability. That famous over-the-top delivery, the big looping curveball, the way he’d stalk off the mound after a big inning. It became part of baseball’s rhythm.

The Dodgers’ Identity

You can’t separate Kershaw from the Dodgers’ run of dominance. Eleven division titles in twelve years, a long-awaited World Series title in 2020, and a franchise identity built on pitching excellence.

Think about it: before the Mookies, the Freemans, the endless conveyor belt of prospects, there was Kershaw. He bridged the gap from the Mannywood era to today’s powerhouse Dodgers. He was the constant through ownership changes, front-office shifts, and roster churn.

The Dodgers became the model franchise, and Kershaw was the face of it all.

The October Story Everyone Gets Wrong

We can’t talk about Kershaw without talking about October. For years, the narrative was that he couldn’t deliver in the playoffs. And yeah, there were some meltdowns—those games stick in people’s minds.

But if you actually lived through it, you know the truth: he was overused, often running on fumes, asked to do what no other ace in his era was asked to do. He pitched on short rest, came out of the bullpen, and tried to save the series by himself. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.

By the end, though, he got the last word. Thirteen postseason wins, 213 strikeouts, and the ring in 2020 that put everything to rest. History will judge him fairly.

The Human Side

Kershaw’s greatness wasn’t just between the lines. He carried himself the way fans want their stars to carry themselves—with humility, intensity, and a sense of purpose.

Through Kershaw’s Challenge, the foundation he and his wife Ellen, started, he turned his platform into millions of dollars for kids in need. He wasn’t loud about it. He just did the work.

That’s who he was: no flash, no ego, just greatness.

What We’re Really Losing

Kershaw isn’t just a Hall of Famer. He’s a link to an older version of baseball. When aces still mattered. When you tuned in not for a matchup or a pennant race, but simply because a legend was pitching that night.

We’ll still have dominant arms. We’ll still have young aces. But we won’t have another Clayton Kershaw.

And that’s why this retirement hits harder than most.

So here’s to the curveball that froze hitters, the intensity that never wavered, and the career that defined an era.

Thank you, Kershaw. For Dodgers fans, for baseball fans, and for everyone who loves the game—you were one of the last of your kind.