
Thank You, Austin Barnes, for Your Grit, Leadership, and Role in Bringing Two Championships to the Los Angeles Dodgers
Thank you, Austin Barnes. Those five words carry the weight of years—years of hard work, dedication, clutch moments, and an unwavering commitment to the Los Angeles Dodgers. You were never the loudest player in the clubhouse, nor the one who craved the spotlight. But every Dodger fan who truly followed the team knew what you meant to this organization. You were a constant. A dependable backstop. A trusted battery mate. A steady hand during chaos. A player whose value extended far beyond box scores and stat sheets.
It’s not often that a player spends nearly a decade with one team in a sport that churns through rosters year after year. But from the time you were acquired in 2014 in a trade that brought you over from the Miami Marlins system, you gradually etched your place in Dodger lore. Not with grandstanding, but with consistency. Not with superstardom, but with substance. You were a glue guy, the type of player every championship team needs but doesn’t always get.
You weren’t just a backup catcher. You were a manager on the field. You were the voice behind the plate that kept elite pitching staffs steady and composed. You learned every nuance of the game, built trust with ace after ace, and earned the respect of an entire clubhouse. Clayton Kershaw, Walker Buehler, Julio Urías, Tony Gonsolin—they all found comfort in knowing that when you were behind the plate, the game was in good hands.
Thank you, Austin, for always putting the team before yourself. You accepted your role with grace. You knew your job wasn’t glamorous, but it mattered. You understood that being ready every day—even if you didn’t know when your next start would come—was critical to the Dodgers’ success. You made the most of every opportunity, whether it was a midweek start in May or a critical game in October.
Your postseason heroics are cemented in our memories. Who could forget your contributions in the 2020 playoff run? That season—played during a pandemic, with all of its uncertainty and challenges—was the one where your veteran poise truly shined. You were behind the plate calling the shots as the Dodgers chased down a title that had eluded the franchise for 32 long years. And when Game 6 of the World Series arrived, you did more than just guide the pitching staff. You delivered at the plate, too. Your timely hit and savvy baserunning helped spark a pivotal rally that ultimately sealed the championship.
In a city full of stars—Mookie Betts, Cody Bellinger, Corey Seager, Justin Turner—you stood tall in your own way. You were never overshadowed because you never allowed ego to enter the equation. Your humility was part of your greatness. Every interview, every media session, every moment you were asked about your role, you answered with professionalism. You reminded everyone that championships are won not just with sluggers and Cy Youngs, but with guys like you. Guys who grind.
It wasn’t just 2020. When the Dodgers won 111 games in 2022 and made yet another deep postseason push, there you were again—providing leadership, game planning, catching bullpen sessions, and offering guidance to younger players who were experiencing October baseball for the first time. When a rookie needed a confidence boost, you were in their corner. When a veteran was struggling, you offered perspective. When the pitching staff needed someone who knew the scouting reports inside and out, you were already three steps ahead.
And then came 2023, and even 2024—years when your role may have been even more limited on the field, but no less valuable off of it. You embraced every change with professionalism. You helped mentor Will Smith as he took the reins of the everyday catching job. You supported him, never viewing him as competition but as a teammate. That’s rare. That’s Austin Barnes.
Your contributions extended to the community as well. You embraced Los Angeles. You were approachable, always gracious with fans, and took time to participate in team initiatives that impacted people well beyond the ballpark. You were never just a baseball player; you were a representative of Dodger values.
Two championships. Two rings. One of the most memorable runs in franchise history. None of that happens without you. That’s not just sentiment; that’s fact. Baseball insiders knew it, your teammates knew it, and smart fans knew it. The Dodgers don’t become one of the most successful franchises of the last decade without Austin Barnes playing a critical role behind the scenes and between the lines.
It’s hard to imagine a Dodgers clubhouse without your presence. It’s hard to picture the pitching staff going over scouting reports without your insight. It’s hard to walk into Dodger Stadium and not think of all the moments you’ve been a part of. But change is inevitable in baseball. Players move on, teams evolve, and rosters shift. Yet what never changes is the impact a player like you leaves behind.
We thank you not just for what you did, but how you did it. You played with a quiet intensity. You battled through injuries. You never sought attention, but always delivered in the moments that mattered. Your game-winning hits, your clutch playoff at-bats, your ability to handle pressure with the calm of a 15-year veteran—even when you were only in your fifth or sixth year—made you a fan favorite in the truest sense.
And for young catchers everywhere, you set the standard. You proved that being a catcher isn’t about flash—it’s about substance. It’s about preparation, leadership, toughness, and resilience. You were never just filling a spot in the lineup. You were anchoring a staff, managing a game, and directing traffic like a conductor orchestrating a masterpiece.
So as your time in Dodger Blue comes to an end, we reflect not with sadness but with gratitude. Gratitude for the moments. Gratitude for the leadership. Gratitude for being a Dodger through and through. We know you’ll succeed in whatever comes next, whether it’s another chapter as a player elsewhere, or if you eventually transition into coaching, where your baseball IQ and people skills will shine just as brightly.
Some players are remembered for their stats. Others are remembered for their impact. You’ll be remembered for both. And while your batting average may not have grabbed headlines, your presence always did. You were the calm in the storm. The voice of reason. The heartbeat behind the plate.
Thank you, Austin, for being the kind of player every young ballplayer should aspire to be. Thank you for your sacrifice, your leadership, and your ability to always rise to the occasion when it mattered most. Thank you for helping deliver two championships to a city that lives and breathes Dodger baseball. Thank you for being a Dodger.
And no matter where baseball takes you next, just know that you’ll always have a home in Los Angeles. Forever Dodger Blue. Forever a champion. Forever Austin Barnes.