Another champagne celebration for the Dodgers, who

Max Muncy stood in the center of what is often an underground batting cage. But on Friday, moments after the Dodgers accomplished a four-game sweep of the Milwaukee Brewers in the National League Championship Series, it had been reworked into the most exclusive consuming spot in the metropolis, the place where the gamers got here to toast their return to the World Series.

Cheap champagne and even cheaper beer flowed freely — principally over people’s heads — before forming deep puddles on some plastic sheeting that had rapidly been laid along the ground.

“You never get tired of this. You can’t ever take this for granted,” Muncy, the Dodger third baseman said, as he clutched a lit cigar in one hand and two pink Budweiser bottles in the other. “This is the whole reason that you play baseball. You want to be in this moment.

“You want to play postseason baseball. And to be able to do it for as many times as I’ve done it, it’s just truly a blessing.”

The second Muncy referred to is the alcohol-infused postseason collection victory celebration, a custom that dates to the 1960 World Series when members of the Pittsburgh Pirates selected not to drink the champagne that had been wheeled into their victorious clubhouse, but started spraying it on one another instead.

As baseball’s postseason format expanded, so did the quantity of champagne celebrations; Friday’s was the Dodgers’ fifth in 29 days and 10^th in less than two years. And it is probably not the last since they’ll open the World Series next weekend with a likelihood to turn into the first repeat champion this century.

“It’s a grown man acting like a little kid. You look forward it,” reliever Blake Treinen, who has performed for seven playoff groups in his profession, said as he leaned on a giant pink cooler stuffed with principally empty bottles of champagne.

When the Dodgers certified for the playoffs last month, they toasted that achievement at home, then toasted themselves again six days later in Arizona when they clinched the division title. This month they’ve overwhelmed the Cincinnati Reds in the wild-card collection, the Philadelphia Phillies in the Division Series and now the Brewers in the LCS.

And with each victory, the celebrations have grown in fervor and pleasure.

“It gets better and better each round,” pitcher Tyler Glasnow agreed.

As soon as Caleb Durbin’s fly ball settled in Andy Pages’ glove close to the right-field bullpen gate Friday night time, extending the Dodgers’ season while ending the Brewers’, fireworks crammed the air and Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.” blared from the stadium’s sound system. As a small military of employees rushed to set up a momentary wood stage behind second base, the gamers pulled on grey t-shirts with phrases National League Champions and the script Dodgers set against a baseball diamond outlined in yellow.

On their heads they wore black caps that read World Series 2025. But the public ceremony on the stage, in which chairman Mark Walter was offered with the league championship trophy and Shohei Ohtani was handed the collection MVP trophy, was short and tame in contrast to raucous fiesta that began in the batting cage a few minutes later.

Dodgers star Shohei Ohtani celebrates in the clubhouse after the group’s NLCS-clinching win over the Brewers at Dodger Stadium on Friday night time.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

“These kinds of celebrations, you can never have too many,” infielder Miguel Rojas shouted in Spanish over a loud soundtrack of percussive music that performed in a loop. “A moment like this is really important, really beautiful.

“Five times this year. We’ve got one to go.”

A few ft away outfielder Teoscar Hernández surrounded himself with a handful of journalists in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal from the champagne sprays directed at him by teammates.

“I don’t think there’s anybody that gets tired of this. I’m not tired,” he said. “I want to get one more, and then five more next year.

“This is the only time that you can get to celebrate something, to be free, not thinking about your job, not thinking about what you got to do tomorrow.”

As the celebration started to wane and gamers left the batting cage to be a part of their households in a quieter gathering on the subject, Muncy appeared down at the thick victory cigar between his fingers and turned reflective. The celebration wasn’t about champagne or beer or victory cigars. It wasn’t even about profitable.

It was more about surviving the crucible of the longest schedule in professional sports activities and celebrating that with the people who had been with you every step of the manner.

“It’s amazing, is what it is,” he said. “This is one of the best parts about being in the postseason. You grind with your teammates and your brothers for seven, eight months, all the way back to spring training.

“This is just like a culmination of all your collective efforts.”

Who wouldn’t need drink to that?