Dustin May Breaks Silence on Dodgers’ World Series Win, His Reaction Sends Shockwaves Through Fans.NL

In the electric aftermath of the Los Angeles Dodgers’ triumphant 2025 World Series victory, one voice cut through the celebrations with raw emotion. Dustin May, the hard-throwing right-hander traded away at the deadline, shared his unfiltered reaction. It wasn’t just joy—it was a storm of pride, regret, and fierce loyalty to his former team.

The Dodgers clinched their ninth championship on November 2, defeating the Toronto Blue Jays 5-4 in an 11-inning thriller during Game 7. Will Smith’s go-ahead homer in the top of the 11th sealed the deal, capping a series that ESPN called “the greatest ever.” Yoshinobu Yamamoto earned MVP honors with a heroic relief outing, his 2⅔ scoreless innings preserving the win.
May, now a free agent after a turbulent stint with the Boston Red Sox, watched from afar as his old teammates hoisted the Commissioner’s Trophy. “It was very fun to watch,” he told reporters, his voice steady but laced with intensity. Yet, in the next breath, he admitted a sharper truth: “I was more sad that they [Red Sox] lost than happy that they [Dodgers] won.”
This candid admission revealed the depth of May’s divided heart. Traded on July 31 in a deal that sent him to Boston for prospects James Tibbs III and Zach Ehrhard, May had hoped for a fresh start. Instead, it became a chapter of frustration, injury, and what-ifs, all while the Dodgers surged toward glory without him.
Reflecting on the trade, May didn’t mince words. “It was definitely a huge letdown,” he said of his time in Fenway Park. The Dodgers, facing a crowded rotation with stars like Tyler Glasnow, Yamamoto, Shohei Ohtani, and the returning Blake Snell, viewed May as expendable. General Manager Brandon Gomes noted “respectful conversations” where May’s desire to start regularly shone through.

For May, drafted by LA in 2016 out of high school, the organization was home. He debuted in 2019, finishing fifth in Rookie of the Year voting, and became a key arm in the 2020 championship run. Injuries sidelined him for much of 2021-2024, including Tommy John surgery, but 2025 marked his return—albeit inconsistently.
In 18 starts with the Dodgers, May posted a 4.85 ERA over 104 innings, showing flashes of his old dominance against foes like the Atlanta Braves and Minnesota Twins. Yet, with the rotation humming, the writing was on the wall. “My time there ran out,” May reflected post-trade. “I was kind of pushed out, but couldn’t be more excited to be here [Boston].”
The Red Sox, seeking rotation depth behind ace Garrett Crochet, saw May as a low-risk gamble. They paired him with veterans like Lucas Giolito, Brayan Bello, and ex-Dodger Walker Buehler. It was a reunion of sorts, but fate had other plans. May made just five starts in Boston, going 1-4 with a 5.40 ERA and 1.69 WHIP over 28.1 innings.
A right elbow neuritis flare-up landed him on the injured list after September 3, ending his season prematurely. The Red Sox stumbled in the Wild Card round, their playoff dreams dashed early. Meanwhile, the prospects Boston surrendered—Tibbs slashing .246/.379/.478 in the minors and Ehrhard stealing 23 bases—bolstered LA’s outfield depth for the stretch run.
As confetti rained in Toronto, May’s phone buzzed with messages from former teammates. He’s set to receive his third World Series ring, a testament to his contributions in 2020 and now, symbolically, 2025. “I’m proud to be getting another one,” he said, his tone firm. Fans on X echoed the sentiment, with one posting, “Dustin May will get his ring—happy for him after everything.”

But beneath the pride simmered disappointment. May’s strong reaction wasn’t bitterness toward the Dodgers; it was frustration at Boston’s collapse. “The guys were great to be around,” he praised his new squad. “Super happy to join that group. But I didn’t contribute the way I felt I could have.”
This vulnerability humanizes May, a 28-year-old fireballer once clocked at 101 mph. Injuries have tested his resilience, yet his passion endures. On X, supporters rallied: “Injuries hit hard, but Dustin’s stuff is nasty—hoping Boston was just a detour.” Another fan noted, “From Dodger Blue to Fenway Green, May’s energy lights up any mound.”
The trade’s ripple effects extend beyond May. For the Dodgers, it exemplified their ruthless efficiency. Acquiring Tibbs, the 13th overall pick from the Giants in the Rafael Devers deal, and Ehrhard, a speedy fourth-rounder, paid dividends. Both prospects contributed in the playoffs, with Tibbs pinch-hitting in the NLCS.
Los Angeles’ “golden era,” as MLB.com dubbed it, now boasts three titles in six years. Back-to-back wins mark their first repeat since joining the NL in 1958. Stars like Ohtani, whose deferred contract structure sparked labor buzz, fueled the machine. That $68 million annual deferral through 2043 dodges California’s taxes, keeping payroll flexible for splurges.
Yet, as Sporting News reports, this “loophole” could ignite a 2027 lockout. Owners in high-tax states fear an exodus to no-tax havens like Florida or Texas, eroding competitive balance. “It’s disrupting parity,” one analyst warned, predicting labor strife in the 2026 offseason.
For May, free agency looms as a crossroads. He craves a rotation spot on a contender, perhaps reuniting with Buehler elsewhere. “Starting is very important to me,” he reiterated. A one-year prove-it deal seems likely, with teams eyeing his upside despite the Red Sox struggles.

Whispers link him to rebuilding clubs or mid-market rotations, but May’s fire suggests bigger ambitions. “It was a very fun group in Boston,” he said, but his heart tugged westward during the Series clincher. Watching Freeman’s walk-off echoes of 2024, May felt the pull of unfinished business.
Fans adore this duality. On X, a thread celebrated: “May’s ‘more sad about Sox loss’ hits hard—loyalty like that is rare.” Another quipped, “Dodgers traded him, but couldn’t trade his spirit. Ring incoming!”
As winter meetings approach, May’s story embodies baseball’s cruel beauty. Triumph and heartbreak intertwine, much like Game 7’s extra-inning drama. His strong words—”fun to watch, but sadder for Boston”—capture the game’s toll on its warriors.
Yet, optimism flickers. With health, May could reclaim ace status. “I’ve got more to give,” he vowed. In a league of deferrals and deadlines, his unyielding spirit stands tall.
The Dodgers’ parade down Figueroa Street drew millions, blue waves chanting for more. May, ringside in spirit, joined the roar from afar. His reaction? A fierce reminder: Once a Dodger, always one.
This saga underscores MLB’s unpredictability. Trades reshape destinies, but passion endures. As 2026 beckons, May eyes redemption—perhaps against his old club, fastball blazing.
In Toronto’s confetti-strewn field, the Dodgers etched history. For Dustin May, it’s fuel. “They won without me,” he might think, “but I’ll be back stronger.” His strong reaction? Not defeat, but defiance.

Baseball’s narrative thrives on such tales. From high school phenom to traded veteran, May’s journey inspires. Fans await his next chapter, ring gleaming on his finger.
The 2025 Fall Classic wasn’t just games—it was legacy. For the Dodgers, dynasty whispers grow louder. For May, it’s personal. His words echo: Joy tempered by sorrow, but unbreakable resolve.
As snow dusts Fenway, May trains. Elbow healing, mind sharp. “Let’s get it,” he posted post-trade. Now, free agency calls. Where next? Only spring will tell.
In the end, May’s reaction humanizes the machine. Amid Ohtani’s loopholes and labor storms, it’s players like him—raw, real—who keep us hooked. Three rings in, more to chase. That’s the Dodger way, traded or not.



