WASHINGTON — The United States has confirmed for the first time that it has deployed weapons in space.
Air Force Secretary Troy Meink told the Air and Space Cyber Conference in Maryland on Monday that the U.S. has fielded “on-orbit space control weapons capable of defending the Joint Force against hostile adversary action.”
Meink did not detail what the weapons were or how they work. In 2024 the U.S. said Russia was developing a new anti-satellite weapon that could be launched from space. At the time the White House said the danger wasn’t imminent.
But reports of the anti-satellite weapon reflected longstanding worries about space threats from Russia and China, given that much U.S. infrastructure is dependent on satellite communications.
In his remarks, Meink also said the Air Force was adding more autonomous systems to its capabilities and predicted the service would look “radically different” by 2032. For example, he foresaw one-way attack drones replacing artillery as the “primary killer.”
“We are increasing readiness against existing threats,” he said.
WASHINGTON — Republican Sen. Mitch McConnell of Kentucky returned to the Senate to vote on Monday for the first time in three months, looking noticeably more frail after he was hospitalized for a June fall in his home.
McConnell’s lengthy absence from the Senate generated a flood of criticism and online speculation, as he initially remained quiet for weeks about his condition. The 84-year-old senator eventually disclosed a month later that he had been “briefly unconscious” due to the fall and had also been treated for mild pneumonia in the hospital.
He briefly addressed reporters Monday from a wheelchair outside the Senate chamber, smiling but speaking slowly and with some difficulty. McConnell joked that he wasn’t sure how many reporters would be there after dodging so many questions during his almost two decades as leader.
He said he was back in the Senate to work on a pending farm bill and because he has an ongoing interest in NATO and “backing up our good friends who are totally in the fight against the Russians.”
Reporters and photographers were told by Senate staff not to take video of his remarks in the second-floor hallway, even though video is often permitted in that area. Still images were allowed.
McConnell, who holds the distinction of being the longest-serving Senate leader, is in his final months of his four decades in office. He is retiring at the end of January after one of the most consequential careers in modern politics.
Republicans have nominated U.S. Rep. Andy Barr to replace him, while Democrats have nominated former state lawmaker Charles Booker. McConnell has said he is determined to finish out his term.
McConnell suggests he’s still recovering
In a statement issued before his remarks, McConnell made clear that he may still miss some votes due to his health issues.
He said that he is “still not quite back to 100%, but I’ve assured Leader (John) Thune that, as I continue with physical therapy on the advice of my doctors, I will do my best to be present for tough votes when our Conference needs me.”
“My recovery has been a long and often frustrating process, and the lingering effects of childhood polio haven’t made it any easier,” McConnell said in the statement.
The senator’s extended leave highlighted increasing public concern about the age of lawmakers and their capacity to carry out their duties. Speculation about his condition grew so intense at one point that Kentucky’s Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear took the extraordinary step of issuing a public letter asking McConnell to update the public in a “transparent manner.”
McConnell’s absence was also felt over the summer as Republicans were unable to advance a farm bill out of committee. His return could give GOP leaders a needed vote as they try to advance legislation on cryptocurrency regulation and college sports.
A history of health problems
McConnell had polio in his early childhood and has long acknowledged difficulty as an adult in walking and climbing stairs.
A statement from the Capitol physician that was included with McConnell’s July release said that the senator has “experienced several falls through the year” due to his “post-polio condition.” The office said his physical therapy was aimed at reducing the risk of him falling again.
“A comprehensive evaluation by a multidisciplinary team determined that he had no fractures, cardiac abnormalities, stroke, tumor, or hemorrhage,” the physician’s office said.
McConnell was first elected to the Senate in 1984 and was the Republican leader from 2007 until last year, serving as both majority and minority leader during that period.
Toward the end of his time as leader and in the last two years as a rank and file senator, McConnell’s health has visibly declined.
He was hospitalized with a concussion in March 2023 and missed several weeks of work after falling in a Washington hotel. He twice froze up during news conferences after he returned, staring vacantly ahead before colleagues and staff. A year later, he fell and sprained his wrist while walking out of a GOP luncheon.
Ohtani was still considered day to day, and Roberts again teased his possible availability off the bench.
Roberts wasn’t quite as bullish, however, about Ohtani avoiding the injured list.
After describing an IL stint as “unlikely but not impossible” on Thursday, Roberts said Friday that he was “hopeful, but I wouldn’t say confident,” that Ohtani would avoid the IL.
There are a wide range of possibilities for Ohtani as he continues to deal with lingering pain in his right biceps. Though the Dodgers experimented earlier in the season with ways to manage his two-way workload — holding him out of the batting order on the day he pitched, giving him the day off after a start on the mound, or both — this is the first time he has missed two consecutive games. And he hasn’t pitched since July 3.
Roberts described Thursday as a “spa day,” meaning Ohtani rested, watched the game from the dugout and didn’t do any baseball activities. Roberts said Friday was a day to “start getting his body moving a little bit.”
“Let’s stay in communication, and let’s see when the time to give the green light is,” Roberts said.
Roberts said Ohtani has been “very agreeable” with the decision to rest him. Ohtani has declined multiple requests for comment over consecutive days through a team spokesperson.
“I think he wants to be out there, wants to play,” Roberts said, “but he’s understanding.”
An MRI scan of the area around his biceps and neck showed no structural damage, or as Roberts put it “nothing of note at all,” which is a promising sign. But Ohtani’s swings and body language Wednesday signaled that something was clearly wrong, affecting Ohtani’s play.
The fact that the Dodgers have not put Ohtani on the IL yet doesn’t necessarily mean that he’ll be out fewer than 10 days — it just means that they can’t rule out an earlier return. Teams can backdate IL moves up to three days. But that hasn’t traditionally served as a hard deadline for the Dodgers to make IL decisions. It isn’t expected to in this case, either.
Shohei Ohtani is hurt. The Dodgers’ rotation is injured. The team is in a fairly long slump and a first round bye isn’t remotely guaranteed.
Although having an injured player take up a roster spot for more than a few days isn’t ideal, it’s easier to cover for the designated hitter spot than other positions. And there is no obvious replacement on the 40-man roster pushing for a call-up through an extended period of outstanding play. Those factors mitigate the urgency to make a move.
In Ohtani’s absence, the Dodgers have started outfielder Alex Call at DH against left-handed pitchers, with Dalton Rushing available off the bench in the later innings.
The setup has afforded Rushing more regular at-bats than initially expected when the Dodgers activated him this week. Because Rushing (elbow) is still working through a throwing program, the original plan was to have him pinch hit one at-bat per game until he was ready to return to catching duties.
The Dodgers also have not officially ruled out Ohtani’s return to pitching, seeing even one or two innings from him as a plus. But the longer he’s out, the less likely it’ll become.
Ohtani’s planned buildup from tossing live batting practice on Aug. 22, to preparing to possibly start a little more than a week later, instead ended with the Dodgers shutting him down from throwing. Ohtani hasn’t even gone through weighted plyo ball drills in “a few days,” according to Roberts.
Asked what that meant for Ohtani’s return-to-pitching timeline, Roberts said it “certainly pushes it back.”
The priority, however, is getting Ohtani back to himself on the offensive side before the postseason — whether that means a couple days off or more than a week.
Roberts described the two-day break from the lineup as not just a physical one, but also a mental reprieve for Ohtani. He recorded just two hits in his last six games (23 at-bats). And over the past four weeks, he has a .703 OPS — compared to his .903 OPS overall this season.
“With a lot of players, when they’re not feeling well physically it adds to the toll mentally and emotionally,” Roberts said. “So I think Shohei is like that, like most players. We’re just kind of balancing how many days is sufficient to then be worth the time to get back, versus running this play out of days off and it not being adequate.”
For more than three decades, Liz Phair and Sleater-Kinney existed in parallel without ever quite meeting. They admired one another from afar, brushed shoulders only in passing, and, in some ways, represented opposing ways of challenging the limits placed on women in indie rock. Phair, who found novel and peerlessly smart ways to write about heterosexual skirmishes, used her ambitions to edge closer to the mainstream; Sleater-Kinney, one of the great duos of American rock, have succeeded in becoming the last band standing from the underground scene in which they emerged.
Both acts are about to share the stage for the first time, co-headlining a tour they’ve cheekily and earnestly named the Flannel and the Fury, with stops across the country, from El Cajon, Calif., to Ocean City, Md., and a night at Los Angeles’ Greek Theatre on Tuesday.
Yet, despite having spent more than 30 years orbiting the same world, they have had surprisingly little time together. This interview is one of a few substantial conversations they’ve ever had. It is, at first, slightly stilted. Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker (Sleater-Kinney) are in sync as always; Phair is clearly excited, but seemingly unsure of where to place herself in the dynamic. Now all in their 50s, the women have been asking similar questions of the same culture, and are only now getting the chance to compare answers.
“Sorry, I know you’re like, ‘Why aren’t you better friends?’ For me, that’s the point. I’m trying to be better friends,” says Brownstein. “Yeah, talk to us again when tour’s over,” Tucker adds.
Brownstein is sitting in a parking lot in Los Angeles, wearing a cardigan and glasses, people walking past her window, unaware of who’s inside. Tucker calls from her home, a blurred background behind her, wearing a white blouse and lipstick. Phair is at home too, makeup on and hair straightened, various musical instruments on the wall behind her. It’s a few weeks before their co-headlining tour, and Tucker has already loaded up all the equipment. She’s packed her suitcase too, full of socks she’ll throw away by the end of tour, and a wardrobe almost entirely of black.
“This is news to me,” says Brownstein. “I was thinking more of a chocolate brown. I will be all brown town.”
Phair is going for wine-like jewel tones. “A Cab Sav,” to be specific.
Phair, who’s had an on-and-off relationship with touring, is noticeably more nervous than Brownstein and Tucker. “It takes me two or three shows to get into it. At first I’m like, why are you all staring at me?”
Phair had been sitting on the idea of a co-headlining tour with Sleater-Kinney for a few years. She sheepishly says that she didn’t reach out herself, but got her manager to do it while she was working on the second half of her memoir. She’s been keen to share a bill with Sleater-Kinney ever since she heard their 1996 album “Call the Doctor.”
“By then, I’d started to pull back from indie rock,” says Phair. “I had gotten married, and I didn’t know I was pregnant at the time, but I was starting to drift out of this scene, and then they put out this kick-ass record, and I just remember thinking, I kind of want to be back in the game. It inspired me. It stuck with me.”
Phair felt she was atomized from the female coalitions of the ’90s, and that this co-bill might be a way to rectify that. “I’d love to be able to go back and sew it together again,” she says. “Here’s a band I was a fan of that meant something to me and now I can play with them.”
For Sleater-Kinney, Phair has long been more than a neighboring act. Tucker and Brownstein describe her as one of their “biggest inspirations.” Both have the same Phair favorite song: “Divorce Song.” “It’s a perfect song,” says Tucker. “I think I’ve put it on every mixtape I’ve ever made,” Brownstein adds.
By the time Phair released her debut album, “Exile in Guyville,” in 1993, she was the one of the two acts edging toward the mainstream. Within a year, she was on the cover of Rolling Stone.
“I still have a copy of the magazine,” says Brownstein. “We were all so excited. Like, an actual artist made the cover.”
Nirvana had made this small corporate alliance permissible a couple of years earlier, finding a loophole as Cobain wore a T-shirt that read “Corporate Magazines Still Suck” on their Rolling Stone cover. It was a time when an antiauthoritarian stance was the only artistically credible one. Before we started calling one another “performative,” Tucker, Brownstein and Phair came from a time when “poser” was the worst insult and sin. They came from a scene of ideological puritanism.
“You know when people die their life flashes before their eyes, sometimes, it’s like that when I do a deep dive, and I’m like, God, there were a lot of rules. There was a lot of fear. And I don’t think anyone who wasn’t there would be able to picture it,” says Brownstein. “It took us a long time to get over it.”
“OK, can I ask the question? Can I get right in here? Because I want to know,” Phair chimes. “Do you think that’s because there weren’t enough women? You think women would have brought the inclusivity to inclusivity?”
“Unfortunately, no,” replies Tucker.
“We had these all-female festivals in Olympia, and we had our own publicist, and they were like, how dare we?” says Brownstein. “You know, it was just gatekeeping, that now seems sort of repugnant. But it was also a way to establish yourself in opposition to what felt like the only way to be.”
It’s part of why Sleater-Kinney declined an invite to play Lilith Fair, the mainstream precedent for so-called female solidarity in music. One of history’s most famous traveling all-female festivals, Lilith Fair was considered by many in the Riot Grrrl movement to be an early symbol of the commodification of “girl power,” female solidarity aligned with corporate ideals.
Sleater Kinney
(Robin Laananen)
“It seems like they haven’t really given credit to women in an independent milieu who have organized a lot of female-only shows for years,” Brownstein told the Dallas Observer in 1998.
“I think at the time we thought we were too cool to play Lilith,” Tucker reflects.
“I’ll just leave your answer,” says Brownstein.
Then she changes her mind four seconds later.
“I saw the Lilith Fair documentary last year and got FOMO, I kind of regretted not playing” she says. “But at the same time we had a handicap from a small indie punk community that was kind of didactic, there was a real rigidity to what you were and weren’t allowed to do. Even us signing with Matador in the U.K. was considered too big.”
Selling out, they all conclude, is no longer a concern for anyone. Phair’s son, who is Gen Z, often says the phrase “it’s time to get the bag.”
“You know, every artist has the right to get their bag,” says Phair. “I always felt that way and I was especially vilified for it.”
That vilification reached its apex when she released her mainstream-aspiring self-titled album in 2003, an album Sleater-Kinney said they hated in an interview with Rolling Stone that year, and which Pitchfork gave a rare 0.0 score in one of its most notorious reviews.
“I’d be on tour doing 10 interviews a day back-to-back, and I almost had to give these interviewers therapy, because they were so sad about my turn from indie rock,” says Phair.
Phair is adamant she made her mark on “every one of those songs, except maybe ‘Favorite,’” she says, referencing the chintzy, awkwardly phrased track where she sings about her underwear. Maybe it’s a metaphor, but more likely, it is just a song about her underwear. Safe to say it won’t be on the show’s setlist: “I will never play it live.”
The old argument about selling out now sits inside a very different touring economy. Sleater-Kinney and Phair’s co-headlining tour happens to follow a flood of co-headlining tours this year, from indie acts like Waxahatchee and MJ Lenderman to big marquee names like Usher and Chris Brown. With higher ticket prices and more competition — not only with other touring bands but with the allures of home comforts — audiences need a bigger draw. Artists want an opportunity to play to big audiences, as well as a better chance of “getting the bag.”
All three artists insist they won’t necessarily bring home the bag, nor is that why they’re doing this.
“All our budget’s gone on to the lighting designer,” jokes Brownstein.
“When I do these interviews with you guys, I get kind of excited and nervous because I feel challenged in the best way,” says Phair. “I think co-headlining bills, it does let you go into bigger venues than you could by yourself. But it also, for me, gives me creative food, like nutrition. It makes me grow.”
NEW YORK — Novak Djokovic grinded through physical and internal ailments, made one mistake after another and could not find what it took to beat a feisty, younger opponent who was not intimidated under the lights against tennis’ most decorated player.
The 39-year-old is out of the U.S. Open after a first-round defeat to Mariano Navone on Sunday night, losing 7-6 (5), 5-7, 4-6, 6-2, 6-1 in a five-set marathon that lasted 4 hours and 36 minutes. It was the longest opening match of a Grand Slam in Djokovic’s career and became his earliest exit in one in two decades, dating to the 2006 Australian Open. He had never lost in the first round at the U.S. Open.
With this defeat, 21 years to the day of his U.S. Open debut, the question now lingers as to whether this was Djokovic’s final match at this or any Grand Slam.
Djokovic made 70 unforced errors in a painful performance that ended mere minutes before midnight.
The record holder with 24 major titles threw up at least once and later appeared to be cramping when he grabbed at his left foot. Djokovic swallowed pills brought to him by a doctor and had his lower back massaged during a medical timeout between the fourth and fifth sets, and he grimaced after several shots.
Throughout his time on court, it was clear Djokovic was not himself, and the wear and tear of sickness and soreness took its toll. The No. 4 seed from Serbia cruised to early 3-0 and 4-1 leads before blowing them and losing the first set — the first time that happened to him in the first round of the U.S. Open since ’06.
With his wife, Jelena, watching from the stands with worried looks on her face, Djokovic had moments where he looked like one of the best to play the sport. His fist pump was reserved after winning the second set, and he put his hand to his ear and gestured to the crowd for applause on the way to taking the third.
But Navone — a 25-year-old from Argentina who earlier this year won his first ATP singles title — did not go away. After firing a shot wide in the fourth set, Djokovic landed awkwardly and dropped his racket.
Djokovic all but conceded the fourth set. But he was unable to muster enough for what would have been his 43rd five-set victory as Navone picked up his first.
I still remember the moment when I heard “Cien Años” for the first time. I can vividly recall the haunting aftertaste, the glorious specificity of the experience.
I had moved from Buenos Aires to Los Angeles, and somehow managed to make a living writing about Latin music. I‘d seen Los Tigres del Norte in concert, shared a lengthy conversation with Vicente Fernández outside the Arrowhead Pond of Anaheim, and spent months poring through the songbook of José Alfredo Jiménez. But listening to the 1953 recording of “Cien Años” by Mexican legend Pedro Infante was a game changer — an existential milestone that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I was in my home office, researching a story about the golden era of Mexican music. “Cien Años” played on, the elusive contours of its melody floating in the afternoon air. Three minutes and 33 seconds later, when it ended, you could hear a pin drop. I sat still for a few minutes, transfixed. Then I played it again. And again. Ten, 15, 20 times in a row.
A composition by Rubén Fuentes and Alberto Cervantes, the song wasn’t just another lilting ranchera from the 1950s — that much was clear. On the contrary, it felt like an otherworldly manifestation from the gods above, as if a UFO had landed in the Mexican capital decades ago, and an advanced race of extraterrestrials left this artifact behind as some sort of exquisite offering — a reminder of everything that could be but wasn’t.
There‘s the matter of that sinuous electric guitar intro, halfway between tropical psychedelia and merry-go-round anthem. Then, the main melody: forlorn, hallucinogenic. Infante’s aristocratic delivery collides head on with the brutal indifference of the girl he will carry on loving for the rest of his embittered existence. His voice, so soft and fragile, could belong to both man and woman; the universal scar of romantic rejection.
Clearly there was a mystery attached to this evergreen standard that people got to see on the big screen in 1954, when Infante performed it in the film “Cuidado Con El Amor.” The song also reminded me of Schubert — maybe a page off “Winterreise,” the romantic song cycle composed in 1827.
Had I accidentally discovered a supernatural portal where time and space didn’t exist, one where random phenomena of blinding beauty could materialize on this plane without any logical explanation?
To figure out why “Cien Años” still resonates, I decided to consult with a few notable singer-songwriters.
First I thought of Spanish rock star and longtime Los Angeles resident Enrique Bunbury, who himself traffics in the diffuse territories of the ominous and esoteric. I sent him a rambling voice memo, trying to convey my bewilderment as best as I could. True to his character, he replied with a terse but eloquent text.
“I apologize for the delay in responding, as I was busy promoting my new album,” he wrote. “I have to agree that Pedro Infante’s version has an incredibly evocative air to it that is not common in rancheras. This may be related to the classical violin training of Rubén Fuentes, who was also an arranger. Alberto Cervantes, on the other hand, was a bolero guy. I imagine he contributed the intense Acapulco scent that emanates from this song. I’m so sorry that my ignorance on this subject will probably not be of great help in your inquiry.”
I marveled at Bunbury’s humility, but agreed with him that the mystery was far from solved.
Maybe a young Mexican singer could shed some illumination, I thought, before sending a somewhat incoherent email to Silvana Estrada. I was right to assume that the 29-year-old prodigy behind 2025’s “Vendrán Suaves Lluvias” — one of the most spiritually devastating albums of the decade, and the second best album of last year — would have something to say.
“This is one of the most gorgeous boleros in the Mexican repertoire,” Estrada replied.
“I always thought the Pedro Infante version was mind-boggling. There is something in the string arrangement that sounds a bit impressionistic to me, but also profoundly Mexican, with the trumpets doubling the violin lines. There’s also a sense of maximalism that sums up the old Mexico as a time of splendor. And when I think of this song, I think of something splendid.”
At least now I knew that I was not alone in my overwhelming passion for this strange little gem. But neither Bunbury nor Estrada had addressed the eerie supernatural vibe that emanates from the recording — the feeling that when “Cien Años” was recorded somewhere in Mexico City, Pedro and company connected with another dimension.
I was scheduled to interview Mexican American singer Lila Downs the following day, and I decided to bring this up at the end of our chat. She was sitting down in her stately Oaxaca home when we connected over Zoom, and smiled widely the moment I brought up my metaphysical query.
“I’ve experienced a similar feeling with other songs that I’ve performed,” she said. “It’s like they transport me to a más allá [a far beyond], a certain undefined something that doesn’t belong in my own era. ‘La Llorona,’ in fact, connects me to something that is not even human — a force that exists in the shape of waves. It’s the essence of the very mystery that music itself evokes in all of us.”
Downs pointed out an important detail: that “Cien Años” could not have emerged from any country other than Mexico.
“Our subconscious is loaded with the spirit of the ancestors,” she added. “There is a deep connection with the cosmos in Mexico. I’ve seen it in anthropology books; this vision of art as a healing agent that facilitates spiritual growth.”
I was finally ready to put the matter aside, when I spoke to Gepe. The Chilean singer-songwriter has crafted many tracks that have a timeless, soulful quality to them. “Desastre,” a lovely tune released in 2024, feels almost as unearthly to me as “Cien Años.”
I asked him to listen to the song.
“That intro is definitely striking,” he told me in the first of many voice memos. “It has a psychedelic tinge that didn’t really exist in the 1950s. It reminds me of someone like Peter Drake and his slide guitar playing, which had more of a Hawaiian sound. I think it’s beautiful that such a short intro can leave you with more questions than answers. That’s part of the magic, isn’t it?”
Gepe made an astute observation: that my life-changing experience with “Cien Años” was not due to a single factor. It was a layered, complex combination of different details.
“You have this incredible, hypersensitive performance by Pedro, coupled with a timeless arrangement which was definitely ahead of its time,” he explained. “The cinematic, almost Hawaiian touch on the guitar, but also a strong affinity to the bolero aesthetic — there’s a subtle softness in the maracas, so that the voice can grow and shine with so much sweetness.”
And then, he told me the one thing that brought it all together.
“It’s funny, because you keep saying that this song sounds like it landed from another world, but there’s a stark contradiction in that statement,” he said. “Pedro’s delivery is so marvelous and sensitive, that it goes beyond male or female — it sums up the human experience in all its subtlety and aching beauty. I think what happened here was that the composers, arrangers, musicians and Pedro got together in a studio and created something so immense and luminous that it ended up transcending its own sense of time.”
Jason Heyward didn’t give Freddie Freeman the heads up that he’d secured a job in the Dodgers’ front office. He hadn’t told any of his former Dodger teammates. But Freeman, who’s known Heyward for two decades, now says he’d heard rumblings. He was just going to let his longtime friend break the news himself.
On May 13, midway through a home series against the Giants, Freeman walked into the food room at Dodger Stadium, and, to his surprise and confusion, there was Heyward.
“What are you doing here?” a slack-jawed Freeman asked.
“Well, I’m working,” Heyward said.
No text. No call.
“He waited to tell me in person,” Freeman said.
Heyward technically started his job as a special assistant at the beginning of May, but he was on site for the first time a couple of weeks later. That game against the Giants, with Heyward looking on as a Dodgers special assistant for the first time, Freeman stole a base — a rarity in recent years.
“I wanted to ask him, what was my grade?” Freeman said. “What do you give me, a 70 on the 20-80 (scouting) scale?”
Freeman chuckled. Though he has long been an adept baserunner, it’s never been because of his speed — not even in high school, when teams were scouting him for the 2007 MLB draft.
Jason Heyward, who joined the Dodgers as a special assistant earlier this season, stands on the field before a game against the Seattle Mariners at Dodger Stadium last month.
(Jayne Kamin-Oncea / Getty Images)
That’s when Freeman and Heyward first met, the summer before their senior year. They had no way of knowing that they’d go on to experience baseball and life milestones together for the next two decades and counting.
They were both drafted by the Braves, Heyward in the first round (No. 14 overall), and Freeman in the second (No.78). They became roommates and teammates, debuting in the same year.
Over the course of two long and decorated MLB careers — which includes Heyward’s five Gold Gloves, Freeman’s 10 All-Star selections, and five World Series rings between the two of them — their paths diverged and reconnected multiple times.
In this most recent chapter, Heyward has ventured into the front office, Freeman is adding to his Hall of Fame candidacy, and they’re once again on the same team.
“To see us now, it’s crazy,” Freeman said. “It really is.”
Strangers
It’s rare for friends of 20 years to be able to pick out the details of their first encounter. Over the decades, fond memories start to jumble and fade.
But not for Freeman and Heyward.
Without hesitation they’ll bring up August 2006, when they were both 16 and played on opposing teams in the Aflac All-American Classic, held that year in San Diego. They really got to know each other during the down time that week, hanging out in the communal game room in the hotel.
When they met, Freeman was playing Pop-A-Shot.
“That’s where he was most of the time,” Heyward said.
The group could gravitate to another part of the room to “trade cards, sign autographs, talk a little shop,” and Freeman would somehow end up back at the Pop-A-Shot.
That, however, didn’t stop Freeman and Heyward from hitting it off.
On the surface, they were an opposites-attract kind of duo, in pretty much every category but height — listed as 6-foot-4 and 6-5 during that showcase. Heyward grew up in the Atlanta metropolitan area, playing on the East team, and Freeman was an Orange County native, representing the West.
Their priorities and aspirations pulled them together.
“You kind of look around and see all the other guys there and see what they’re doing, how they talk, how they act,” Freeman said. “And then you run into Jason, and then, I’m like, ‘That’s who I want to hang out with.’ He had everything figured out at such a young age.”
Heyward was the more hyped prospect, and the star of the East in that game, with four stolen bases, a pair of hits and two RBIs.
The second time Heyward reached first base, Freeman said to him, “You’re not going to steal again.” Heyward’s response: “I’m going again.”
“I looked down, he was kicking dirt on my shoes, all that,” Heyward said. “So, same guy who he is today on first base, that’s who he’s always been.”
Even in practice, Freeman’s competitiveness stood out to his new friend.
“One hundred percent competitive, but it was fun for him to be competitive,” Heyward said. “Not competitive in like, ‘Get off me,’ [stuff] like that. He welcomed me.”
Though they became fast friends, and ran into each other on the showcase circuit throughout their senior year, who knows what would have happened if the 2007 draft had played out differently?
Dodgers first baseman Freddie Freeman takes his shoes off after batting practice during spring training at Camelback Ranch in Phoenix in February.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
Draftees
Freeman was scheduled to take a final exam the day he was drafted.
That year, the draft made its television debut. The first round — including the Braves selecting hometown kid Jason Heyward — was broadcast on ESPN2. Heyward’s selection wasn’t a surprise — “We know the Braves have a history of drafting young players from the area,” he said.
But Freeman would have to be in front of a computer to track the subsequent rounds. He finagled permission to go home until he was selected, and then return to school.
“We were going along, and I had some other teams calling for me as a pitcher,” Freeman said. “And I was like, ‘I don’t want to pitch, let me hit first.’”
Eventually the Braves called, with their second pick of the second round approaching. Freeman, wasting no time, kicked off the conversation with: “I don’t want to pitch.”
“And they’re like, ‘Good, because we don’t want you to,’” Freeman recalled.
Finally. The excitement began to set in.
Even after the Braves drafted Freeman, it wasn’t a done deal on his end.
He’d committed to Cal State Fullerton, the alma mater of his father, Fred Freeman. And Freddie had his sights set on becoming a CPA and taking over his dad’s business.
A couple days after the draft, at 2 or 3 a.m., Freddie knocked on Fred’s bedroom door with a decision.
“Dad, I don’t want to go to college,” he said. “I want to play baseball.”
They talked for a while. And though Fred had wanted his son to pursue an education, he softened his stance, supporting Freddie’s dream. They agreed, Freddie remembers, that if he didn’t make it to the big leagues in four years, he’d quit to follow the original plan.
“Back then, I was like, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” Freeman said. “And now you think about it — that was crazy to think, right? Four or five years in the minor leagues, that’s what the norm is. … We didn’t know any better.”
That set Freeman and Heyward on course to reunite, this time as teammates.
Heyward, poised to sign for above slot value, had to wait until mid-August to sign his contract ($1.7-million bonus). So, when he finally joined the Gulf Coast League, for all of eight games before finishing the season with rookie-ball Danville, he remembers Freeman greeting him with a disgruntled, “Hey, man, I’ve been waiting on you. I’ve been here, it’s been hot.”
“My bad,” Heyward said. “I couldn’t control it.”
Freeman broke into laughter.
After the instructional league that fall, Freeman and Heyward decided to room together in spring training. And though the accommodations changed throughout the years, they’d remain roommates through 2010, their debut season in the majors.
Roommates
Outfielder Jason Heyward, left, and infielder Freddie Freeman celebrate before the start of a spring training game against the Toronto Blue Jays in March 2010.
(Al Messerschmidt / Getty Images)
There’s no better way to quickly learn a person’s idiosyncrasies than living with them.
In terms of morning routines, Heyward and Freeman were on far ends of the spectrum. If Heyward was going to start getting ready at 12:30, Freeman was waiting until 12:48 — and it was always something that specific too. Extremely structured to this day, if something throws off Freeman’s schedule, his “robot mind,” as he puts it, malfunctions.
While Heyward would marvel at how close Freeman was willing to cut it, Freeman would give Heyward grief for how long he’d take to get ready.
“In the minor leagues, we had to shave, had to keep it low,” Heyward said. “And I’ve been, at that time, shaving since I was 15. So sometimes I had to shave twice a day, otherwise it was just freaking uncomfortable.
“So, yeah, if I may take a long time to get ready, ‘You’re rocking with what you’re rocking with; you can just get out of bed, literally wet your hair, and then go.’”
On the road, Freeman still jokes, Heyward’s BlackBerry phone came into play. The team would put the players up in hotel rooms with two beds, subjecting Freeman to the incessant clicking of Heyward texting.
“Anybody can nitpick something, but if I complain about a BlackBerry texting, that’s not really anything,” Freeman said. “‘Sorry, I had friends,’ he would say.”
Freeman and Heyward were inseparable. They’d hit back-to-back in the lineup, and then get on the bus for a 13-hour ride and sit right next to each other.
They rose quickly through the farm system, one after another, sharing the highs and lows.
“There was some irony in the fact of how he was treated in the South, versus how I’m treated in the South, even though I’m from there,” said Heyward, who is Black. “And that goes back to even in the minor leagues.”
A road trip to Savannah, Ga., in 2008 immediately came to mind for Freeman, who is white. From first base Freeman could hear everything the crowd said to Heyward in right field — including the racial slur a fan yelled in the middle of a game.
“It was the first time I ever heard the N-word,” Freeman said. “It was crazy to me. And I was almost in tears. I wanted to run into the stands.”
In fact, he started walking over there, before Heyward stopped him.
“For me, obviously, that’s been my whole life, especially growing up where I grew up,” Heyward said. “But it’s just a good perspective on him not hearing it before. And I think that’s it.
“But, yeah, if anybody would have tried him on anything, I’m fighting them too. … What’s understood didn’t have to be explained there.”
The fact that Heyward could remain so calm was eye-opening for Freeman. The pair came away from that incident, and more subtle slights (like having to wait 20 minutes to be seated in a mostly empty restaurant), with a better understanding of each other.
“For an 18-year-old to have that be a normal thing is even more saddening,” Freeman said. “To this day, it’s hard to even talk about. That those kids, or young adults [in the stands] grew up thinking that was an OK thing to say, it’s just baffling to me.”
Teammates
Heyward’s highly anticipated MLB debut came on April 5, 2010, opening day at Turner Field. And in his first major league at-bat, he smoked a three-run home run to right field.
Freeman, on the other hand, started the season in triple A. But that didn’t split up the roommates. Freeman made the 35-minute drive northeast to Gwinnett, and Heyward headed south for 15 minutes.
By late August, it was obvious Freeman would be among the Braves’ call-ups when rosters expanded on Sept. 1.
Sure enough, Heyward and Freeman both headed south that day — still driving separately because of their differing morning routines.
Freddie Freeman, left, Jason Heyward, center, and Brian McCann chat during a workout at spring training in Kissimmee, Fla., in 2011.
(Phelan M. Ebenhack / Associated Press)
“I walked into Turner Field, and saw my name in the lineup, hitting sixth, and I almost threw up,” Freeman said.
Seeing familiar faces helped. Freeman knew many of the coaches and his new teammates from major league spring training the past two years. And, of course, there was Heyward.
“Just a special day,” Freeman said. “I didn’t get any hits, but I didn’t care.
“Jason got all the hits for us, he went four for four. He was so happy I was there. He took all my hits.”
As Freeman went through his big-league firsts, he appreciated having Heyward, who’d already checked them off for himself, by his side.
Freeman looks back fondly on their plane rides. He and Heyward would sit together, eating Chick-fil-A.
Raising the level of decadence, the next year, Freeman had his first “show dinner” with Heyward and veterans such as Eric Hinske and Chipper Jones at a steakhouse in Seattle called El Gaucho.
“I was like, this is the coolest thing ever,” Freeman said.
“Those were both of our ‘college years,’” Heyward said. “So seeing the real world a little bit, spending time on flights, clubhouse, dinners, enjoying teammates, becoming young adults.”
Jason Heyward, right, high-fives teammate Freddie Freeman after scoring off a single by Justin Upton in the first inning of a June 2013 game against the Arizona Diamondbacks.
(David Goldman / Associated Press)
They were also playing well. Heyward and Freeman finished No. 2 in NL rookie of the year voting in consecutive years. And they started filling up their own individual trophy cases, while the Braves made it to the postseason three times in five years.
“Everyone has fun playing baseball,” Freeman said, “but to experience the big leagues with your best friend, I don’t know if you can get much better than that.”
Rivals
As soon as the Braves were eliminated from the 2014 postseason chase, the team fired general manager Frank Wren. Plunging into a rebuild, new president of baseball operations John Hart’s first big move was to trade Heyward to the Cardinals for pitching.
“That was the first time I saw the business side of baseball,” Freeman said. “Sad day. But it opened my eyes to, this isn’t just fun all the time. The fun has to end at some point.”
Freeman and Heyward kept in touch and celebrated each other’s successes. But it wasn’t the same.
“That was like, ‘Alright, this is becoming more of a job,” Heyward said.
Heyward leveraged that platform season in St. Louis into an eight-year free agent contract with the Cubs worth $184 million, setting a franchise record.
The Braves extended Freeman. Then when he finally hit free agency after the 2021 season, he became the first infielder to sign a $100-plus million deal with the Dodgers, signing a contract for six years and $162 million.
For eight years, Heyward and Freeman played for opposing NL teams. Then, an unexpected turn of events set the ball rolling for a reunion.
In early August 2022, when Heyward had already been on the injured list for over a month with what the Cubs called right knee inflammation, president of baseball operations Jed Hoyer announced that the team intended to release the veteran right fielder from the final year of his contract after the season.
Freeman saw an opportunity. And for the rest of the year, he didn’t let Dodgers president of baseball operations Andrew Friedman or general manager Brandon Gomes walk by without hearing his pitch for Heyward.
“I’ll shoot you straight,” Freeman told them. “I don’t know what you’re going to get from the baseball player Jason Heyward, but I know what you’re going to get from the person Jason Heyward, and what he would mean inside of a clubhouse, and what he can do to young guys and help them. There’s no one better to be in this clubhouse than how you are envisioning clubhouse culture and chemistry than to bring this guy in.”
Friedman doesn’t have an exact count on the number of times Freeman mentioned Heyward to him in those months, “but it was definitely a lot.”
Friedman and Gomes were intrigued enough to have their group dig into the evolution of Heyward’s swing. But they still had questions, like how open was he going to be to diving into adjustments with their staff?
Soon after he was officially released, the Dodgers set up a Zoom.
“He was all-in,” Friedman said, “in terms of open-mindedness, desire to change some of the recent narrative, and he was excited about the prospect of working with our guys and doing what he could to help us win games, both on and off the field.”
Heyward said he heard from the Dodgers three times before he heard from any other team in free agency.
“That was how persistent they were,” he said.
Jason Heyward, left, celebrates a run with Freddie Freeman against the Texas Rangers in June 2024.
(Ronald Martinez / Getty Images)
Heyward signed a minor-league deal with the Dodgers in early December. He spent time in Southern California over the offseason to get a head start on overhauling his swing. And he met Freeman in Newport Beach, to hang out, hit and work out together.
Heyward’s efforts paid off. He made the team out of spring training. And he and Freeman were officially teammates again.
“It was so fun,” Heyward said.
Their reunion on the field was brief — the Dodgers re-signed Heyward for the 2024 season and then, his first half derailed by injuries, released him in August — but it was still sweet.
“You go from sitting together on a bus coming from Rome, Ga., going to Wilmington, Delaware — and like now you’re on a first class flight with the L.A. Dodgers, and traveling from West Coast to East Coast, wearing the jumpsuits, all that stuff,” Heyward said. “That was a very cool experience coming from being 16-years-old, Aflac All-Americans, to now sharing a World Series ring.”
Co-workers
Heyward finished 2024 with the Astros and spent the next season with the Padres. He trained this past offseason to be ready for spring training if a team gave him an offer. But in the final weeks, he also started laying groundwork for a post-playing career in case the phone never rang.
“This year I said, ‘If we get a Super Bowl weekend, that’s it, and I’m content,’” Heyward said. “Not complacent; I’m content. I let it run its course, and now I have clarity to go do whatever else it is.”
He said he reached out to the Cubs first about a non-playing role, and had cursory conversations with the White Sox. He exchanged texts with Friedman, reviving conversations they’d had in his stint with the Dodgers. In many ways, it came down to timing.
Heyward had already been planning on meeting up in spring training with Dodgers manager Dave Roberts, a former player, to pick his brain about the transition.
They went to dinner, with both their wives, and stayed for six hours.
“I basically was just honest with him, in telling him that, No. 1, I think it’s great that he wants to stay in the game,” Roberts said. “But No. 2 is that when you’re a player, you look at certain things in a certain lens, but for him to be good at this job in the front office, he’s got to be really open-minded to learn.”
Roberts came away from the conversation excited by how earnestly Heyward embraced that message. And he mentioned to Gomes: “Someone with his character that has his desire to work could be a huge asset for us.”
Two and a half weeks later, Heyward stopped by Dodgers camp at Camelback Ranch to catch up with old friends and teammates.
“I was here for two years, and it felt like I was here for 10,” Heyward said. “And that’s family included — my family, my kids, my wife … So, what I thought was going to be natural, this was even more organic.”
Friends
Dodgers outfielder Jason Heyward, right, congratulates Freddie Freeman after bringing him home on an eighth-inning sacrifice fly against the Colorado Rockies at Dodger Stadium in a June 2024 game.
(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
Life changes dramatically between the ages of 16 and 36.
“Single guys trying to make it, to married with many kids,” said Freeman, who turns 37 next month. “And we’re still as close as ever, which is really, really special for me.”
Then, he added: “This is going to be friends forever.”
Their wives, Chelsea Freeman and Vedrana Heyward, are close too. The Freeman’s middle children are just a little over a year older than the Heywards’ eldest. And the families’ newest additions were both born months apart.
Freeman and Heyward are already coordinating family schedules and travel — the Heywards are based in Chicago — to all get together in California this offseason.
They’re no longer those high schoolers bonding between rounds of Pop-A-Shot. In June, Freeman surpassed 2,500 career MLB hits.
“The way Free’s done it, winning is all over it,” Heyward said. “I think that’s one of those unique abilities, to this guy is playing the game first, winning first, and then he’s getting a result, then he’s having the big at-bat, doing it obviously in the postseason. So I’m just happy to see him get the recognition that he’s earned the time he put into it. I’m happy to see his stubbornness pay off.
“It’s not easy to do. It’s much easier said than done.”
Heyward, moving on from a 16-year major-league playing career, would love to be a general manager one day. But he’s keeping an open mind. He took Roberts’ advice to heart and is using his first year as a special assistant to learn and explore the possibilities.
Heyward has been around the major-league team for a handful of series in Los Angeles and Chicago (even giving Freeman advance notice before the White Sox series to make up for his May drop-in).
Trying his hand at player evaluation, he sat in the stands during the Southeastern Conference tournament. And as he pops in on affiliates, the Dodgers also see the time he spends with their outfield prospects — the biggest strength of their farm system — as invaluable.
“Whatever he wants to be in the front office, he’s going to be it, because that’s just who he is,” Freeman said. “Because he is a special man, he works hard, he cares, he wants to be the best.”
Freeman has already seen Heyward manifest his dreams once — and vice versa.
Being drafted, making it to the majors, winning championships, those were just dreams 20 years ago this month, when they both wandered into the communal activities room between All-American Classic obligations.
“That week in San Diego,” Freeman said, “obviously we’ll never forget it.”
Those who were at Dodger Stadium on a gorgeous Friday night seemed to be in for an all-nighter.
They have Tommy Edman to thank for getting home a bit earlier.
With two outs in the 10th, Kiké Hernández on third and Kyle Tucker on first, the second baseman hit a walk-off single against Pittsburgh Pirates reliever Gregory Soto, earning the Dodgers a 5-4 win.
“Yeah, it feels great,” Edman said. “We’ve kind of been struggling a little bit in those clutch situations, myself included, so it felt really good to come through.”
Edman entered the at-bat 0 for 3 and was seemingly on the verge of keeping the 200-minute game alive in an unfavorable way.
Soto, however, threw the same low-middle sweeper that Edman fouled off one pitch earlier, and the second baseman jumped on it the second time around, propelling the Dodgers (78-51) to four consecutive wins for the first time since late July.
“That’s something I really try to take pride in — leaving past at-bats behind me — and I think I’ve done a good job of that this year,” Edman said. “I think that’s something we do really well overall as a group, and that leads to coming through in big situations like that, putting past at-bats behind you.
“One of the best feelings after grinding for 10 innings,” he added. “We had a bunch of pitchers do a really good job today.”
However, the victory was tempered by the loss of center fielder Andy Pages, who was struck in the left hand with a Bubba Chandler pitch in the third inning. Manager Dave Roberts said X-rays showed a fracture and Pages is expected to be out at least four weeks.
The right-hander brought the urgency to the mound that the Dodgers were missing during an abysmal 5-11 stretch that ended with a sweep against the Colorado Rockies this week.
“I personally felt like today’s game is very important,” Yamamoto said. “We’re gonna have [Tarik] Skubal starting [Saturday], and I just wanted to maintain the momentum, which started in Colorado.”
Yamamoto surrendered two runs — both via singles from Pirates designated hitter Nick Gonzales — on five hits over 6⅓ innings, striking out nine and walking one.
“My stuff was pretty good today,” Yamamoto said. “I was feeling pretty good out there. So even after letting runners on the bases, I just tried to focus and then take it one hitter at a time.”
Chandler, meanwhile, exited after four innings. Max Muncy hit a two-run homer in the first, and Mookie Betts contributed a two-run single in the third.
The Dodgers, with a 4-2 lead, cruised into the eighth. But Kyle Hurt gave up a tying two-run homer to Oneil Cruz.
Dodgers pitcher Yoshinobu Yamamoto delivers against the Pittsburgh Pirates in the second inning Friday night.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
Matters looked grim for the Dodgers in the 10th when Evan Phillips found himself in a one-out, bases-loaded jam.
All was well, though, once Phillips got Henry Davis to ground into an inning-ending, 6-4-3 double play.
“That was great,” Roberts said of Phillips. “I know that he’s trying to kind of build as we’re going through this, and [it] hasn’t been smooth sailing for him and the success that he’s used to. But this is a big one. Big confidence builder for him … to strand those two runners was a big outing for him.”
Edman took care of the rest.
And for maybe the first time in weeks, the Dodgers appear to be inching back to their champion ways.
“I think our guys are kind of reinterested, you know, collectively,” Roberts said before the game. “So, that’s a good thing.”
Andy Pages sustains hand fracture
Dodgers center fielder Andy Pages gets hit by a pitch during the third inning against the Pirates on Friday night.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
Roberts said Pages sustained a fracture on the back of his left hand when he was hit by the 100-mph pitch It’s unclear if he will need surgery.
“Well, it’s just really unfortunate, obviously,” Roberts said. “It’s not season-ending. … So, I would expect him back, knowing him, on the earlier side. … I feel for him because he’s having such a good year.”
Roberts said Edman is an option to fill in for Pages in center field.
In a more positive development, Will Smith faced live pitching for the first time since June, and Roberts said that the plan is to activate the catcher during the first week of September.
“Today was a good day for Will,” Roberts said. “Taking at-bats. He’ll catch a couple bullpens today. He’ll do a couple more lives. … He still needs to get his legs back under him before we feel confident that he can take down a major league game and feel good coming out of it.”
Roberts added that Smith is “gonna play in the postseason” and that there is enough time for him to reach 100% strength.
Tyler Glasnow will likely be activated during the Dodgers’ upcoming trip to Atlanta.
“I just saw him. He had a great outing — his last rehab outing,” Roberts said. “I’m not sure which day we’re gonna pencil him in against the Braves, but if all of the things check out, it’ll be that [series].”
Ohtani will return to the mound at some point this season.
“It’s gonna happen,” Roberts said. “[Ohtani] threw another bullpen. … I think that there’s going to be a live or two, and then he’ll be on the mound. I just don’t know when we’re going to do that with the scheduling.”
Dalton Rushing is “pain-free” and close to facing live pitching, according to Roberts, but the catcher is “unlikely” to return to catching this season.
“I hope I’m wrong,” Roberts said. “But he’s determined to go through the process, the progression, the build-up and get back. And we’ll see where we’re at.”
Roberts didn’t rule out the possibility of Rushing being activated as a designated hitter down the line.
The Dodgers just can’t have some peace and calm, can they? Now, an owner is getting in on the fun with some controversy.
