The History Channel airs a reality series called “Restoration Garage,” which features the tagline, “It’s all about shop floor drama, gas-fueled egos, and millions of dollars at stake.” Replace “Dodger Stadium drama” for “shop floor drama,” and the arrow of accuracy just narrowly misses the bullseye.

The Los Angeles Dodgers’ 28-year-old slugging first baseman, Game 3 hero Max Muncy, is the latest in a notable acquisition paradigm for the Boston Red Sox’ World Series opponents.

The Artful Dodgers

Four years ago, the Chavez Ravine “shop” dug up New York Mets cast-off Justin Turner, dusted him off, did some detailing, and unveiled a high-octane third base basher. His 2015 Dodger output included a .294 average with 16 homers and 60 RBIs.

In a swap with the Seattle Mariners, the Dodgers polished off infielder Chris Taylor in 2016, and he proceeded to hit .288 with 21 homers and 72 RBIs in 2017.

Released by the Oakland A’s at the end of Spring Training, 2017, the six-foot, 210-pound Muncy was signed by the Dodgers a month later and was immediately dispatched to their Triple-A Oklahoma affiliate, where he eventually logged a .309 BA with a .414 OBP.

That one long month, though, provided many days of concern and life-altering questions for Muncy. Maybe he would go back to Baylor, he mused, to finish that last year of courses and maybe get that business degree. Maybe he’d give independent ball a try.

The 2012 fifth-round draft pick was desperately clinging to his baseball dream from his downtown Oklahoma City Sheraton hotel room, a scant two-minute walk from Chickasaw Bricktown Ballpark.

Pigskin vs. Horsehide

A lifelong Texan, Maxwell Steven Muncy was born in Midland and was drafted in the 41st round of the 2009 draft by the Cleveland Indians out of Keller High School. Muncy played just about every position for the Keller Indians while leading them deep into the playoffs almost every year he was there.

Muncy focused on baseball his sophomore year at Keller after a family discussion about his future led to his decision to quit football. A two-way player, he was a gifted running back and linebacker.

“It’s Texas! All the coaches [were] saying you need to play football,” Muncy, who was concerned a football injury would jeopardize his baseball career, told the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram in August 2016. “You see that happen all the time. Football is a rough sport. You never know what’s going to happen. You can be the healthiest person out there and suddenly a guy falls into your knee, and not even on purpose, and you’re done.”

Growing up a Texas Rangers fan, Muncy’s childhood hero was infielder Michael Young, but being a left-handed hitter, he also faithfully followed third baseman Hank Blalock‘s career.

Muncy’s high school focus on baseball led him to Baylor, where he was earning All-Big 12 first-team accolades by 2011, mostly as a second baseman. To Muncy, at the time, the big leagues looked like a distinct possibility. “It got me into Baylor and I loved every second of that,” he said. “I don’t regret that at all. It got me here.”

Max Effort vs. Lefties

Manager Dave Roberts has largely seen fit to platoon Muncy against left-handed pitchers in 2018. Dodgers Nation made the case in September for Roberts to keep Muncy in the lineup every day, citing these persuasive stats: “Muncy has an OPS+ of 155 against left-handers this season, and an OPS of .922. Who does that put Muncy in territory with? Nelson Cruz (.923 OPS), Javier Baez (.923), Freddie Freeman (.925), and Aaron Judge (.925).”

Dodgers’ ace Clayton Kershaw, an early fan of his first baseman, referred to Muncy as “the best hitter in baseball right now,” in a July 2018 ESPN article.

Muncy was a National League All-Star Home Run Derby participant. He ended 2018 ranking fifth in the NL in homers with 35. Seventeen doubles and two triples helped lead him to a .263 batting average and .973 OPS in 481 plate appearances.

The Nuts’n’Bolts

The Houston Astros have built something of a reputation, recently, for re-working and tweaking the deliveries and results of several scrap-heap pitchers… or, at least fostering more talent than had previously been cultivated from them.

Collin McHugh, Charlie Morton, Ryan Pressly, and Gerrit Cole have all benefited from Houston’s preponderance of computer-generated sabermetric data and reliance on enhanced spin rate of pitches.

“They do have methods [in Houston] where they try to increase spin rates,” Morton told the Washington Post cryptically during the ALCS, “but I don’t really want to talk about that.”

The Dodgers seem to be building a similar, if no less mysterious, reclamation shop for lost, forgotten, or under-developed hitters.

“Muncy,” as ESPN explains, “joined the wave of players who have adjusted their approaches in an effort to lift the ball. Like Dodgers third baseman Justin Turner, Muncy is something of an ideal candidate for adaptation because of his hand-eye coordination and ability to make contact.

“He explained in the [visitor’s] clubhouse [this summer] that the changes were not really to his swing but to the mechanics setting up his swing and allowing him to hit underneath the ball.”

Max Results

Max Muncy embodies baseball’s everyman, a player who had several decisive moments when another day, week, or minute could’ve caused his life to make a drastic U-turn.

From proverbial scrap heap to World Series. Who’d-a thunk it?

“It’s unbelievable. It’s surreal,” Max’s father Lee Muncy said recently. “When he was first called up [by the Dodgers], we thought, ‘OK, we hope he gets to pinch hit.’ Then we went to hoping he would get to platoon. Now we hope he’s playing more.

“We always thought he could hit 20 homers in a season. For him to do that [already], that’s surprised us, along with everybody else.”

“It’s been pretty crazy,” Max had to admit. “I’ve been enjoying it a ton.”

Related: Muncy’s Fellow Slugging Dodger, Joc Pederson Lives Life Like a Champ