The celebration on the field was subdued, no dog pile, no dancing, just experienced champions acting like champions.

The Dodgers clinched their 11th National League West title in 12 years Thursday night at Dodger Stadium, as they expect here, firm handshakes, light hugs, the usual Randy Newman soundtrack accompanying the usual relieved smile.

Except, wait a minute, who was that short, stocky guy who bounced out of the pack and suddenly led cheers?

Naturally. It was Dodger manager Dave Roberts. This is his team. This is his city. This has been his season.

“Best fans in the world! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Roberts shouted as he waved his division championship hat at the roaring fans after the Dodgers’ 7-2 victory over the San Diego Padres.

Mookie Betts ran up to Roberts and hugged him.

“I love you, baby,” Roberts shouted, and believe it, Roberts led this team with that love.

Later in the clubhouse, Roberts addressed his players: “No one said this would be easy! You have been through hell and back and I want to thank you for all sticking together, believing in each other and I promise you this! No team we face will have more fight than us.”

Moments later they popped the champagne.

Drink up, doctor.

This has been your best season yet.

He gave that speech to his players, but he could also have spoken about himself. He has been through hell and back and no manager they face will have more of a fight than him.

Admittedly, some readers will be outraged by this statement, dismayed that anyone would openly cheer for the most controversial nine-year manager in Dodger history.

Deal with it. Saddled with enormous distractions, hampered by countless injuries, faced with real job insecurity, Roberts slid headfirst into the challenges of 2024 and emerged as if he were on second base in Boston.

The weight of Shohei Ohtani, the whiplash of Betts, the woeful starting pitching, it was all deftly handled by a manager who has won eight division titles in his nine seasons.

“They all feel sweet, but I’ll tell you, man, with what we’ve done this year, this feels a lot sweeter,” Roberts said.

Think about that. Roberts has been the manager here for almost a decade and only once has he not won a division title, and even that time the Dodgers finished second by a game.

Like him or not, rip him if you must, guess him any way you want, the 2024 regular season proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Roberts is in the perfect spot in the perfect city for the perfect team.

He wins here. He thrives here. He belongs here.

“I’m just so proud of these guys, the way they fought through adversity, stuck together, found a way to win this division again. It was hard-fought, we earned it,” Roberts said.

He becomes Tommy Lasorda without much fanfare, and this season he has never been better at creating blue skies on earth.

Dodgers players and coaches celebrate after winning the NL West title Thursday night at Dodger Stadium.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

And understand that the above words were written less than 48 hours after his most pilloried move of the year.

This happened Tuesday night against the San Diego Padres, when Roberts controversially removed the bunt mark for Miguel Rojas after one strike and the shortstop promptly ran into a game-ending triple play, leaving the big Ohtani on deck and the hope on the Dodgers’ title. briefly on the edge.

Come on people. Roberts now has to do it like he’s trying to stay out of a triple play? That’s absurd. Bunt or not, even with his weakest swing, the worst-case scenario would be for Rojas to hit into a double play, and Ohtani still would have gotten a chance to tie the Padres’ 4-2 victory.

Roberts fell victim to a perfect storm, which shouldn’t ruin the way he’s smartly navigated this season.

Roberts’ strength has always been in keeping his players cool and focused amid the constant distractions that plague the Hollywood team. He is the Dodgers’ smiling face to sponsors, their soothing voice to the media and a protective blanket for its perpetually troubled clubhouse.

This season he had to be all that, and he did.

The madness began with the $700 million acquisition of Ohtani this offseason, a presence so large that it immediately overshadowed the entire organization and threatened to eclipse Roberts’ influence, as evidenced by his introductory press conference.

Sitting on stage with Ohtani were Dodgers officials Mark Walter and Andrew Friedman, Ohtani’s agent Nez Balelo and then-interpreter Ippei Mizuhara.

Where was Roberts? He was banished to the public along with the hundreds of media members, a perceived message about his importance to the future of this organization. Combined with Ohtani’s failure to describe the manager in contract language that assured Friedman and Walter’s future, Roberts’ situation seemed particularly tenuous.

Add to that the massive extra global attention and hulking presence that Ohtani brings on a daily basis, and Roberts could have melted down before the season even started.

He didn’t. He only got stronger. He only became more charming, patiently answering every Ohtani question with confidence and direction, respecting his star while making it clear that Roberts was still in charge.

When the scandal broke and revealed that Mizuhara had stolen $16 million from Ohtani for gambling purposes? Roberts never changed, supporting the innocent Ohtani from every angle and creating an atmosphere where his star felt comfortable shining through the cloudy mess.

The Ohtani affair was just the beginning. Days before the start of the season, Roberts was handed Mookie Madness.

You see, it was the manager charged with overseeing Gold Glove right fielder Mookie Betts’ sudden move to shortstop, a position he had barely played in the major leagues. Roberts had to keep Betts’ spirits up as he struggled in the field, and he did just that, enough to get Betts an all-star start at the plate. Later in the season, when a frustrated Betts was suddenly moved back to right field, Roberts was there again with a strong shoulder and understanding tone.

Some seasons Roberts had simply directed or supervised. This season he really nailed it, from Ohtani to Betts and every veteran in that clubhouse annoyed by the attention suddenly descending on his every move. He hid their frustration. He expressed their concern. He handled it.

If it seems like Roberts is too Pollyanna, then it works for some players. Take Gavin Lux, who struggled early in his comeback from knee surgery but ultimately rewarded Roberts’ consistent public faith by making big contributions late in the season.

Even if things were really terrible – what about all those pitching injuries? – Roberts stayed focused. He never showed panic during the loss of his top two pitchers for much of the summer, patiently delivering each injury update as if everything would work out.

It became official on Thursday, everything was fine, the Dodgers are not only National League West champions, but also the team with the best record in baseball.

“We’ve dealt with a lot within the clubhouse… but yeah, we still had a pretty good season,” Roberts said.

Roberts is having a pretty stellar season, and barring a third consecutive postseason meltdown, Dodger officials can probably recognize that and reward him with a suitable contract extension this winter.

At least 100 wins in five of eight full seasons? An almost unparalleled winning percentage early in a career? And oh, a World Series championship and two World Series appearances?

Yeah, fine, you fire him.

In a scene that epitomized Roberts’ season, he came to the mound in late May to ostensibly remove struggling journeyman reliever Yohan Ramirez from the game after hitting four of his last eight batters dating back to an earlier appearance.

But Roberts didn’t give Ramirez the hook. Instead, he gave him a hug, pulled him close and whispered in his ear in a scene that went viral.

“He’s emotional and concerned, and he’s trying to make an impact with a new ball club,” Roberts later explained. “I was just trying to reassure him and give him some confidence, love him a little bit and take a little bit of pressure off.”

Roberts added: “You just see the player and you kind of feel what’s going on in his head, in his heart and all that kind of stuff. Sometimes I’m sure – I’ve never pitched a Major League inning – but it feels like you’re on an island. So I wanted to show that we were all behind him.”

It worked. Ramirez then escaped a bases-loaded jam and recorded a 1.65 ERA with 15 strikeouts and four walks in his next 14 appearances before being dismissed in late July.

This was just one win in a season full of victories for Doc, who claimed eight division titles in nine years on call.