“Time for Dodger Baseball… Again. Still. Always.”

Nothing sends chills down the spines of Dodger fans — or gives them goosebumps — quite like hearing the voice of the dearly departed Vin Scully utter those familiar words: “It’s time for Dodger baseball.”

And just what is Dodger baseball right now?

It’s back‑to‑back World Series titles. It’s the pursuit of history — no National League team has ever won three straight championships, and only two teams in MLB history have pulled it off. The Dodgers aren’t shy about wanting to be the third.

It’s about taking a roster that already owns two rings and somehow making it better. The additions of Edwin Díaz and Kyle Tucker suggest this franchise has no interest in resting on its very comfortable, very expensive laurels. Winners build. Winners reload. Winners annoy the rest of the league by doing both.

It’s about personal redemption, too. Teoscar Hernández and Max Muncy both trimmed down this offseason, hoping to trim away some of last year’s frustrations with it. If spring training was any indication, both look ready to write a very different chapter.

Mookie Betts wants to erase last year’s inconsistencies and has already shown sharp work at shortstop — a sentence that still feels strange to type, but here we are.

Freddie Freeman hit just a tick under .300 last season. For most players, that’s a career year. For Freddie, it’s something that probably kept him awake at night, staring at the ceiling and muttering about whatever microscopic mechanical flaw only Freddie Freeman can actually see. Freddie is determined never to let that happen again.

Meanwhile, Yoshinobu Yamamoto and Shohei Ohtani have both openly talked about chasing the Cy Young. That’s great news for the Dodgers and terrible news for opposing hitters, who now have to choose which generational talent they’d prefer not to face.

It’s also about surviving the rough patches. The pitching staff will need to hold the line while waiting for Blake Snell and Gavin Stone to return. And the team still needs to figure out exactly what Roki Sasaki’s role will be — starter, swingman, or the guy who casually throws 102 in the seventh inning just to ruin someone’s night.

If the Dodgers thought they had a target on their backs last year, this season’s version is less “target” and more “neon billboard visible from space.” Every team wants a piece of the champs.

And that’s why this season is about something simple and familiar: coming together, grinding through the highs and lows of a 162‑game marathon, and putting themselves in position to hoist yet another trophy when the dust settles.

Because for the Dodgers, it’s not just time for baseball. It’s time for history.