The NFL Week 9 Roundup | Next Level
The day before Valentines Day in 2014, the TLC cable network aired an episode of its eponymous Say Yes to the Dress series featuring then 23-year old Chelsea Goff as she poked through reams upon reams of optic white wedding dresses before finally opting for a mermaid gown with a sweetheart neckline and a difficult, misbehaving, billowy train of tule. The episode was typical in format of depicting a rite of passage for any bride-to-be but atypical in having the proceedings captured before the unpredictable nature of reality show cameras. Also atypical was the subject Chelsea, who was at the time was engaged to burgeoning baseball star Freddie Freeman, at that point with the Hotlanta Braves. Freddie was featured prominently in the episode when the pair’s lavish wedding at the St. Regis Bal Harbor unfurled before a 20-foot floral altar and later an intimate ballroom dinner with mirror-topped tables and elaborate white rose and crystal centerpieces. The show aired just 9 days after Freddie and the Braves agreed to an 8-year/$135M extension with the team. This whole instance is illustrative of the other-level that Freddie (and those in his orbit) operate on. It’s not just a wedding, it must be televised on TLC. That $135M deal? At that time, the largest in franchise history. Everything Freddie touched was simply next-level, and well-earned at that. Such rarefied achievements in only the span of a week-and-a-half (and at such a nascent point of his career) stand in stark contrast to the humble, deferential and family-first nature that defines his personality and demeanor to this day. Two weeks ago Friday, Freddie with the crack of his bat in Game1 of the World Series singlehandedly changed the trajectory of his LA Dodgers and had heads on swivels around the League in an instant. He’d known instantly that he’d smashed the ball to the heavens, pointed his bat to the skies and rounded the bases heroically in triumph written only in the stars. Aprops for a game taking place within view of the Hollywood sign. See what I mean? Everything with Freddie is simply Next Level. And deservedly so.
Freddie was born 37 miles south of Chavez Ravine to two Canadian parents (Frederick and Rosemary) in Fountain Valley in 1989. Freddie from a young age displayed preternatural baseball skill. At age six, he smashed the ball so hard in his Tee Ball league that he was regarded as too dangerous to kids his own age. And so, he was forced to practice with kids twice his age. At age seven, he was placed on a team of 9 year-olds. At nine years of age, he ascended further to a team of 12-year olds, where he slugged his first-ever home run; a home run that nearly knocked out his mother who was walking the family dog just beyond the outfield chain link fence. At age 10, tragedy. His mom had successfully fought back skin cancer into remission just five years prior but in 2000 the cancer resurfaced aggressively. It metastasized over the course of just seven months before her body gave out. She died (at age 47) of melanoma. The devastating loss threw the family and Freddie into a tailspin. Freddie’s only coping mechanism was to throw himself further into baseball and farther into the awaiting arms of his father, who had been teaching him baseball basics since the age of 4. To this day, Freddie wears long sleeves in every game to honor his mother and to bring continued awareness to skin cancer.
By the time Freddie reached El Modena High School in Orange, CA, he’d become the standout star of his school’s varsity baseball team. By the time 2007 rolled in, Freddie at age 17, was selected by the Atlanta Braves in the second round of the MLB Draft. Because he was not legally an adult, Freddie’s father had to sign his $410K contract. For three years, Freddie settled uncomfortably into the minor leagues where the swings (and pitches) of his earlier, younger years didn’t come so easily. He had a developed a nasty habit of swinging like an off-kilter storm door: early, often and off-target. Again, Freddie’s father was there to offer the advice he needed; to be more discerning. Only swing when being tossed a cookie, as the adage went. In 2010, he went looking for those cookies when he was called up to the big leagues where Freddie quietly debuted with the Braves. It took only a year before Freddie made his presence known. Batting .282 and 21 home runs, he finished runner-up in that year’s NL Rookie-of-the-Year sweepstakes. Just a year later in 2013, Freddie accelerated further hitting .319, 23 home runs and an incredible 109 RBIs. He was selected for that year’s All-Star showcase and finished 5th in NL MVP voting. Again, all these accolades and accomplishments at only 24. Such largess was rewarded during the off-season with that famous $135M/8-year extension that would roll out just days before his televised debut on TLC.
While Freddie would continue for the next several years to play at elevated, exciting levels, the team around him did not. Management traded away key players for dreaded and time-consuming rebuilding purposes, a strategy that was mirrored on-field. Except for Freddie, who in 2016 recorded his first 30-home run season as GM John Coppolella ominously denied rumors that he’d ever offered to trade Freddie. Freddie, for his part at the time maintained he’d be a Braves-lifer and wanted to retire with the team. Golden Glove, Silver Slugger, Wilson Defensive Player of the Year and NL MVP awards would go on to famously decorate his overflowing awards cabinet. And finally in 2021, panacea. The Braves, behind Freddie’s slugfest, overtook the much-hated Astros in six games and with them the World Series Championship. Poetically, Freddie recorded the final putout that sealed the Houston’s fate so epically. It was also the beginning of the end of his tenure with the so-called team he wanted to retire with.
2021 was the final year of his contract with Atlanta and Freddie figured on a routine negotiation as easy as one of his ding dong home runs. He’d be sorely mistaken. A $125M/5-year offer was on the table but under the advice of his agent tested the free agency waters. Not wanting to lose its still-potent powerhouse, the Braves came back with a $135M/5-year offer. Nothing doing. Freddie wanted a 6th year (taking him through 2028 at age 39) and thus began an ugly negotiation drama unpacked before a crestfallen Freddie, who had relinquished the deal-making wheelhouse to his agent. He’d always assumed a deal with his beloved Braves was in the offing. But his agent Casey Close had other ideas was playing hardball behind his back. Casey countered with two proposals (both meaningfully beyond $135M but — crucially — with a 6 year component) and gave the front office just an hour to accept. The Braves inched to $140M but the Close’s self-imposed deadline passed without a number close to his twin proposals on offer. The Braves took this to mean that Freddie was about to sign a big-money deal with another team, likely the Dodgers. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Figuring they’d lost Freddie, Atlanta pulled its offer quickly pivoted to sign Oakland All-Star Matt Olson in a shock $168M/8-year deal that all but ended Freddie’s career with the Braves. Freddie, still in the dark and gob smacked with what had just transpired in Atlanta, rapidly and within the next week signed a $162M/6-year deal with LA, including $57M in deferred salary. The deal, with the deferrals and Golden State taxes, penciled out to less than Atlanta’s final $140M offer. It wasn’t until reaching out to the front office days later did Freddie learn of Casey’s trickery. He immediately fired Casey and Excel Management.
Funny how things turn out, though. Life with the Dodgers began for Freddie in the Spring of 2022, a locale that critically allowed him to live at home in Orange County close to his father. After the unsightly end to his time in Atlanta, Freddie made peace with the organization that nurtured him to superstardom. He wistfully accepted his 2021 Silver Slugger award from Braves manager Brian Snitker at Dodger Stadium following the first matchup of his new and former teams. He would later that Summer return to Truist Park to collect his World Series ring with the only teammates he’d ever known in a private ceremony high on sentiment and emotion. But with his ring firmly in-hand and a plane ticket back to LA, Freddie was thoroughly excited to be a member of the vaunted Dodger organization, a team grinding for a dynasty once more. And Freddie was more than happy to play his part.
He was a superlative joining a team full of them. In 2023 Freddie ascended to new heights. He became the only first base player to every deliver 20 HRs, 20 steals and 200 hits in a season. He played in 161 overall games and finished with a .331 batting average against 211 hits, 29 HRs, 201 RBIs and league-best 59 doubles. Sadly, he and his Dodgers became embittered after being prematurely swept by the Diamondbacks in the NLDS. By the time 2024 rolled in, Freddie had descended to mere mortal status and was playing to for-him deflated stats throughout the regular season. By July, a family emergency. Freddie’s 3-year old son Maximus had become stricken with Guillain-Barre syndrome, an autoimmune disease that occurs when the body’s immune system attacks the peripheral nervous system. Maximus began to feel weak and unwell on July 22 when he had trouble standing, walking and even swallowing food. He became limp and by July 26 was fully paralyzed. With memories of his mom’s tragic end flashing before his eyes, Freddie dropped everything to attend to his son’s emergent needs. His Dodger family wept in condolence and support as they sent him off mid-season. Maximus was rushed to the hospital, where he was placed on a ventilator to help reinforce his young lungs. He’d remain in the pediatric ICU before a miracle recovery began to take shape. Maximus was discharged after eight grueling days and into the awaiting embrace of Chelsea, Freddie and grandpa Fred. Maximus faces a long and difficult road to recovery but doctors are confident he’ll make a full recovery. He’s still in physical therapy to regain his strength and to relearn how to walk.
With Maximus in great care, Freddie returned to the Dodgers (who were taking on Philadelphia) on August 5 to a rousing standing ovation, an emotional welcome that melted the hearts of everyone in attendance both in-person and at home. The warmth, the love, the family. Phillies megastar memorably embraced Freddie in an organic display of brotherhood and humanity that speaks heart to heart. Who says there’s no crying in baseball. By September, Freddie seriously injured his ankle avoiding a tag at first base, an inopportune time for a team headed for the playoffs. He hobbled quite literally through the NLDS (against Slam Diego) and NLCS (against the Metropolitans) with a seriously diminished batting average of .167. His ankle hurt so much he wasn’t even in the lineup for the team’s clinching game 6 of the NLCS on Oct 20. Freddie knew his team was headed to the World Series and wanted to stand tall with his brothers on the sport’s biggest and loudest stage and be given a chance, despite the whinings of his body. With the assurance of team doctors and rehab specialists, a stern regiment of rest was administered. Luckily for him, the World Series wouldn’t begin in LA for another 5 days. That quintet of days did wonders for Freddie because we all see what transpired. The magic, the power, the deliberateness, the selectiveness, the wonder. They all returned in momentous fashion and collected with the superpowers of teammates Shohei, Mookie, Kike, Will, Teo and all the rest to agitate for the Commissioner’s Trophy. The Dodgers are stacked and deep but MVP Freddie Freeman was the clear standout delivering HRs, excitement and true spectacle for the ages in a series that won’t be forgotten any time soon. In an indelible moment from that now iconic Game 1 10th inning walk-off grand slam, Freddie slowly trucked the bases beneath flashing stadium lights and to a stadium in absolute pandemonium, seemingly in slow motion ala cinematic masterpiece the Natural. Freddie tromped home base and leapt immediately for fan seating just to the right of the Yankees dugout. There, his father watched with pride as he sprung to his feet, grasping the infield netting. Freddie met him at the net as they grasped hands. He mouthed to his father: THAT, THIS is all for YOU. Thank you and I love you. A quiet, tender moment between father soon taking place in a vacuum surrounded by 52,394 jubilant and defeating celebrants. A life of outsize accomplishment, grievous loss, unfathomable family medical sorrow and momentous comeback. All grounded in humility. You can’t have scripted a more poetic Hollywood ending. And to Freddie, the best is yet to come. Seriously, though, right? Everything with Freddie is simply NEXT LEVEL. Just as it should be.
As we reflect upon Week 9 in the NFL, the cream is clearly beginning to emerge as the anchors around the league beginning making preliminary travel plans for the Draft in April. An unlikely team not among the latter includes the Washington Commanders. Behind upstart rookie QB sensation Jayden Daniels, new coach Dan Quinn and a long leash afforded by new owner Josh Harris, the team has accelerated into the NFC East conversation in what was to be a rebuilding year. Well the team has no patience for that, is picking up their game piece and proceeding directly to GO. Having strung together 7 WINS in their last 8 games, the Commanders at 7–2 on the season are at a winning point they haven’t seen in nearly three decades. With youth and ambition, is WAS now the new buzzy team in town? See ya Texans. On Sunday, the Commanders said see ya to the Giants 27–22 in spite of a last minute NY push at Met Life. Down in Atlanta, carnage as the Cowboys flop to another loss 21–27. America’s Team is spiraling and remains just a semblance of just their 2023 12–5 selves. To add sting to an open wound, QB Dak Prescott exited Sunday’s game with a hamstring injury. Which kind of just encapsulates the team’s plight into January. Sloppy, disorganized and defeated. Colors that clash on any thoroughbred. Conversely, the Dirty Birds took every advantage of DAL’s rust holes and poked and prodded and bashed and knocked over a corpse in freefall.
In Charlotte, the battle of two woe-is-us teams in NOLA at Panthers found new depths for the Saints to plunge into. A rehabbed Derek Carr returned to a NOLA team in disarray pulling apart at the seams in real time. Further a worrisome hit against young WR Chris Olave amounts to his 4th concussion in four short years. Chris was carted off the field but regained consciousness and is on the mend having flown home with the team Sunday night, always a good sign for one having just suffered a concussion. At 2–7, the team can’t claim to be so lucky. In Baltimore, the Ravens stormed the unsuspecting Broncos 41–10 and a textbook application for QB Lamar Jackson as 2024 MVP wrote itself. Again. His air and ground proficiencies remain key competencies resistant to opposing team decryption methodology. That BAL’s DEF rebounded from embarrassing disaster last week to the Brownies was the missing piece of the pie that the Ravens needed to enforce their authority. The one-time challengers in the Broncos suffered a tough loss and look ahead to this Sunday at Chiefs with near certain regret.
In our Round Robin, Aaron Rodgers and his Jets threw one up on the board and looked good doing it while the once-buzzy Texans deflated 13–21. NYJ’s season is still shot but it’s nice to throw freebies out to the crowd once in a while. Cinci creamed the Raiders just at the Chargers (true to coach Jim Harbaugh’s style) are lighting fires after a slow, inauspicious start. The 27–10 singed remains of the Cleve still smolder. The Pats lost to the Titans but kinda looked good doing it while Super Bowl-favorites the Lions torched the Packers, a team that didn’t look good in comparison to its then 6–2 record. The resurgence of the Cards is perhaps the most talked-about turnaround of the season, similar to what might be taking place in Philly. Finally, the Chiefs won last night in spite of a valiant effort by Tampa Bay to hand Patrick Mahomes his first goose egg of the season. That egg will have to wait, if it ever comes. The Chiefs, there the go again!
