To Max Muncy and the Muncy Family,

As fans, as admirers, and as people who appreciate not just what you do on the field but who you are off of it, we want you to know that we stand behind you with sincere and unwavering support. This message isn’t just about baseball—it’s about the bigger picture, about humanity, about resilience, and about the deep respect we hold for you and your family. And while baseball is the stage where you’ve inspired so many, our well wishes go far beyond the chalk lines of the diamond.

Max, we offer you and your family our best wishes—for good health, for happiness, and for success on the baseball diamond. In that order. Always in that order.

Health is the bedrock on which everything else rests. It’s not just the physical condition needed to take swings at a 98-mph fastball or to hustle on defense—it’s also mental clarity, emotional well-being, and the quiet confidence that comes from feeling strong and supported in every aspect of life.

We know this has been a challenging stretch. Injuries, slumps, public scrutiny—they can test even the most mentally tough athletes. But they never define them. And you, Max, have always shown us what grit looks like. You’ve battled back from adversity before, and each time, you’ve done it with a quiet dignity and strength that fans admire more than you probably realize.

We wish you full healing—not just in body, but in spirit. We hope that every ache eases, every limitation fades, and that your path forward is paved with strength, vitality, and peace of mind. May your family, too, enjoy the blessings of health—free from worry, full of energy, and supported by community.

There’s a kind of courage in prioritizing health, especially in professional sports where “playing through pain” is so often glorified. But true greatness comes from knowing when to rest, when to listen to your body, and when to lean on those around you. We hope you continue to honor that, as you always have. And we hope you know that no matter what, your health and well-being come first—because before you are a player, you’re a person, a husband, a father, a son, a friend.

Beyond health, we wish you happiness—not the fleeting kind that comes with a walk-off home run (though those are great too), but the kind that fills your days and strengthens your soul. That quiet joy in the morning when you kiss your family goodbye. That laughter at dinner when the day has worn you out but you’re surrounded by love. That deep contentment that comes from living a life true to yourself.

We hope the game continues to bring you joy—not pressure, not burden, but that same feeling you had as a kid, the one who just loved to play. We hope you wake up every day knowing that what you do matters, not just because of stats or accolades, but because of the way you carry yourself, the way you treat others, the way you lead by example.

We hope your family’s home is filled with warmth and laughter. That you can enjoy the quiet moments as much as the loud ones. That you continue to find strength in your relationships, in your faith, in your passions outside the game.

Because happiness—true, grounded, enduring happiness—isn’t earned on the scoreboard. It’s found in the spaces between. And we wish that for you in abundance.

We’re fans. We cheer, we hope, we live and die a little with every at-bat. We’ve watched you take your place among the game’s best sluggers. We’ve watched you hit tape-measure homers and make clutch plays in the postseason. We’ve celebrated your All-Star-level years, your comeback moments, your fire and your fight.

We’ve also seen you struggle. And through it all, you’ve shown us what accountability and perseverance look like. You’ve stood tall in the face of criticism. You’ve owned your performance when things didn’t go your way. You’ve put the team first. That’s leadership. That’s character.

Now, we hope success on the field returns to you tenfold. We hope the bat heats up, the glove stays steady, and that the next chapter in your baseball story is one of redemption and triumph. Not for us, not even for the headlines, but for you—because we know you’ve earned it.

Whether it’s hitting 30+ homers again, driving in key runs in October, or mentoring the next wave of young Dodgers (or wherever your journey leads), we hope you feel that spark. That magic. That purpose. And when those big moments come—and we know they will—we’ll be right there, cheering like it’s Game 7. Because we believe in you.

Through it all, we recognize the quiet strength of your family. The support system behind the scenes that often doesn’t get the spotlight but plays the most critical role. To your wife, Kellie, and your kids, we send our gratitude and admiration. You are the reason Max can do what he does. Your love, patience, and presence are powerful.

No professional athlete walks their path alone. There are late nights, long road trips, frustrations, and moments of doubt. And it’s the family that holds it all together. The Muncy family has shown grace and unity. You are as much a part of Max’s success story as the swings he takes.

We wish you peace and joy. We wish you strength during the difficult days and celebration during the triumphant ones. May your home be filled with understanding, encouragement, and boundless love. And may your journey together continue to flourish—not just in the spotlight, but in all the beautiful, quiet places beyond it.

Max, it’s easy to love a player when they’re hitting .300 with 35 homers. It’s easy to wear a jersey when the team is on a winning streak. But real fans? We stand by our players through the hard seasons, the injured list stints, the hitting slumps. We support the human being, not just the stat line.

You’ve given us a lot to cheer for. Big home runs. Memorable walk-offs. That iconic “Go get it out of the ocean” moment. But you’ve also given us something even more meaningful: a reminder that success is not linear, that leadership is quiet sometimes, and that humility and strength can go hand in hand.

So, thank you. Thank you for the moments you’ve given us. Thank you for how you represent yourself and the team. Thank you for being someone we’re proud to root for—on and off the field.

No matter where your baseball path leads—whether that’s a resurgent second half, another postseason run, or even a new chapter down the road—please know that we’re with you.

We’re not here just for the highlight reel. We’re here for the journey.

So Max—make it 2000.

Whatever you do, however you do it, we’re behind you