An Unforced Error on a Special Night: Dave Roberts’ Perplexing Decision to Sideline Will Smith on His Own Bobblehead Celebration at Dodger Stadium

Dodger Stadium, a cathedral of baseball dreams and a beacon of Los Angeles sports, has long been a stage for memorable moments, both triumphant and occasionally, head-scratching. On a recent Wednesday night, as the Los Angeles Dodgers prepared to face the Arizona Diamondbacks in the rubber match of their series, the buzz in Chavez Ravine wasn’t just about the impending contest. It was also Will Smith bobblehead night, a highly anticipated giveaway celebrating the star catcher’s integral role in the Dodgers’ recent World Series triumph. Fans, clad in Dodger blue and eager to add the latest collectible to their shelves, streamed into the stadium, a collective sense of excitement palpable in the evening air. The bobblehead, featuring Smith in a pose commemorating the team’s 2024 championship win over the New York Yankees, was the fourth such commemorative item this season, following popular giveaways for Freddie Freeman, manager Dave Roberts himself, and Mookie Betts. These nights are designed to be more than just a promotional gimmick; they’re a chance for fans to connect with their heroes, to celebrate their achievements, and to revel in the shared experience of Dodger baseball. They often serve as a fun subplot to the game, sometimes even inspiring a standout performance from the honored player. However, on this particular Will Smith bobblehead night, the script went awry, not due to anything on the field, but rather a perplexing decision emanating from the dugout: the absence of Will Smith from the starting lineup.

As the lineups were announced, a ripple of confusion, quickly followed by outright disappointment, spread through the stands. Will Smith, the very player whose likeness was being handed out at the gates, was nowhere to be found on the starting nine. Instead, young Dalton Rushing, recently recalled from Triple-A Oklahoma City, was penciled in behind the plate for his third start. The choice immediately struck many as odd, if not outright disrespectful, to a player who has consistently been one of the Dodgers’ most reliable and impactful performers. Smith, a two-time All-Star, is not merely a defensive stalwart; he’s a clutch hitter with a knack for driving in runs and has consistently been a vital cog in the Dodgers’ offensive machine. To sideline him on a night dedicated to his accomplishments seemed, at best, tone-deaf.

The immediate reaction from the fanbase, both inside the stadium and across social media, was a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. “Why isn’t Smith playing on his night?” was the prevailing question, echoing through the stands and dominating online conversations. For many, the expectation is that on a bobblehead night, the honored player will not only be in the lineup but will likely be positioned for a prominent role, perhaps even batting cleanup. It’s a symbolic gesture, a tip of the cap to the player and an acknowledgment of their importance to the team and its fans. To deny Smith that moment, especially considering his consistent performance, felt like a missed opportunity to truly celebrate him.

When pressed for an explanation after the game, manager Dave Roberts offered a rationale that, while perhaps rooted in a broader team strategy, did little to quell the dissatisfaction of the evening. Roberts explained that the decision was driven by a desire to manage Smith’s workload. He emphasized that he had wanted Smith to catch Yoshinobu Yamamoto the day prior, citing the “familiarity” and “nuanced” pitching style of the Japanese ace as reasons for that pairing. Then, Roberts stated, he simply “didn’t want Will to catch four games in a row.” He even admitted, with a hint of sheepishness, that his own wife was “upset” that Smith wasn’t catching on his bobblehead night and confessed, “I just don’t keep track of bobblehead nights.”

While the concept of managing player workload is a legitimate and increasingly common practice in modern baseball, particularly for catchers who endure the physical grind of the position, the timing of this particular rest day felt exquisitely ill-timed. It begged the question: could this not have been planned differently? Surely, with the intricate scheduling and meticulous planning that goes into a professional baseball season, the Dodgers’ front office and coaching staff are aware of promotional nights well in advance. Was there no way to shuffle the catching duties to ensure Smith was behind the plate for his moment in the spotlight?

The explanation offered by Roberts, while perhaps honest, inadvertently highlighted a perceived detachment from the fan experience that can sometimes plague professional sports organizations. To admit to “not keeping track of bobblehead nights” on the very evening one of your star players is being celebrated is, at best, an unfortunate oversight. At worst, it can be interpreted as a disregard for the fan engagement aspect of the game and the unique significance these promotional nights hold for the loyal supporters who fill the stadium. Fans don’t just come to see a game; they come for the experience, for the connection to the team, and for these often-charming rituals that add character to the long baseball season.

Furthermore, the optics of the situation were less than ideal. Here was a team celebrating a World Series victory with a series of commemorative bobbleheads, yet the recipient of one of those very bobbleheads was relegated to the bench on his designated night. It creates a disconnect, a sense that the team’s internal operational decisions are sometimes prioritized over the fan-facing celebratory aspects that help build and maintain enthusiasm. While winning baseball games is, and always will be, the primary objective, there’s also an art to managing the narrative and cultivating a positive relationship with the fanbase.

The argument for workload management, while valid in theory, feels somewhat flimsy in this specific instance. Smith has consistently demonstrated durability throughout his career, and while a day off here or there is understandable, it’s the timing that raises eyebrows. Had he been struggling, or nursing a minor ailment, the decision might have been met with greater understanding. But Smith has been performing well, and his absence on a night meant to celebrate him only amplified the curious nature of the decision. It led many to wonder if the decision was truly about workload, or if it was simply an unfortunate oversight that Roberts then had to justify.

Ultimately, while the Dodgers did go on to win the game against the Diamondbacks, securing the series victory, the lingering impression of Will Smith’s bobblehead night was one of a slightly botched celebration. It was a reminder that in the grand scheme of a 162-game season, seemingly small managerial decisions can take on outsized importance when they intersect with the emotional investment of the fanbase. For the thousands of fans who walked away with a Will Smith bobblehead in hand, the experience was likely tinged with a slight disappointment that the real Will Smith wasn’t out there, contributing to the game on his special night. It serves as a subtle, yet potent, lesson in the delicate balance between strategic roster management and the intangible, yet invaluable, art of fan engagement.