Heels On The Field: A Baseball Blog

MLB Rookie Hazing: New Rules a Not so Subtle Signal of a New Era

There appears to be a new culture on the rise.

The culture of baseball continues to be challenged and changed by Major League Baseball, with the PTB taking seriously issues of sexism, violence and homophobia. On Monday, MLB announced that dressing as women for rookie hazing is now prohibited.

The news was received on social media with a mix of emotions and thoughts, with many wondering what the point was, while others expressed support for the move, believing it to be a positive step toward shutting down discriminatory attitudes. The statement was part of an Anti-Bullying/Anti-Discrimination effort by MLB, which prohibits teams from the following AP wire:

“…from requiring, coercing or encouraging” players to engage in activities that include, “dressing up as women or wearing costumes that may be offensive to individuals based on their race, sex, nationality, age, sexual orientation, gender identity or other characteristic.”

There’s several disappointing elements to players being angry about new rule when you read that statement in full. The most glaring oversight from those who think the new rule is utterly dumb, is that perhaps they didn’t consider the bullying connection to young fans. Many young boys and girls falling in love with the game are also dealing with bullying at school for any number of reasons. MLB is looking to the future of the game, and seem to be saying to them, and to parents, “Don’t worry, not here.” If a young boy identifies as a girl, and his parents encourage that, and if he’s also a baseball fan, he ‘s receiving a message that dressing “as a girl” is funny and worthy of teasing.

Digging deeper, young players are being asked to see women differently. MLB is asking them, no, telling them, to regard women through a more respectful spectrum, by challenging them to re-think their “traditions.” You might not see the practice as sexist, and that’s ok; but MLB is taking a decisive step to ensure that there’s no risk of that. The rule isn’t about players, or their feelings; it’s about people outside of their bubble, whose experience in the world is different than theirs.

Also, consider how many gay players throughout the years felt uncomfortable participating in something that celebrated hyper masculinity/machismo. Perhaps they had fun because, yes, the whole thing is meant to be fun. But homophobic attitudes have also been the norm in sports. We can imagine ignoring that underlying element was difficult. The idea is that to be gay, means you’re not a man. And what better way to humiliate a man than to make him dress as a woman?

Plenty of players, according to one former player, just didn’t get what was so great about the tradition when forced to participate.

Garrett Broshius, a lawyer who now leads the MiLB lawsuit seeking fairer pay for MiLB players, had this to say in response to one of my tweets:

“yes, this was not “fun” for a lot of players. Too often it was demeaning.”

Aubrey Huff weighed in with the opposite reaction with this tweet:

“For all u easily offended people, here’s a pic of me HARRASSING (his caps) a poor innocent rookie.”

He then attached a photo of him helping dress a rookie in a leopard suit, which, per the policy, isn’t prohibited.

Kevin Youkilis was even more emotional about the announcement, taking to his Twitter account:

“Seriously?! Had to wear a Hooters outfit going through customs in Toronto and wore it proudly because I was in the Show.”

Making his major league debut was likely cooler than wearing a Hooters outfit. But what bothers him, and other former and current players so much about this new rule? They can’t wear ladies clothes for a day? They can’t goof around without consequences? Or are they bothered by being challenged to not see feminine culture and women in general, as something worth respecting, and not reducing them to mockery? Ok, so you can’t wear garters and lipstick as a male bonding ritual (Honestly, this part loses me every time). So what?

On Tuesday, as if it hadn’t gotten weird enough, it got weirder, when San Francisco Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow made an emotionally charged statement on a radio show about the new rule.

“I think it’s ridiculous. A lot of these kids come up out of the minor leagues after having been there for four or five years, they get to the big leagues and they cannot wait to put a dress on. They want to be part of it. It’s tradition.”

He then went on to discuss Chicago Cubs manager Joe Maddon’s theme night for travel days, in which, as Krukow explains, “They put on pajamas or a superhero costume…now [MLB] is taking it to another level.”

The statement of defeated outrage likely wasn’t meant to be funny, but…it was! It’s probably news to many that baseball players look forward to wearing a dress. Again, back to the central question of why? Most players will say it’s just fun. Well, so is dressing up as a super hero. So is hanging out at a bar, shooting the breeze and having a drink. So is playing baseball, at least in many ways it is (minor leaguers definitely don’t have it easy). So then let’s expand the central question to, why is dressing in traditionally feminine attire and mocking female behavior so important? Why is losing that “privilege” such a big deal?

New York Mets pitcher Noah Syndergaard, per a New York Post story written by Ken Davidoff, said simply, “I wouldn’t say I understand it, but I really have no say in it. I’m not going to be bitter about it.”

This seemed to summarize the problem. They don’t understand it. And they’re being asked to. In any workplace, there are boundaries. But in sports, those boundaries aren’t often set, and if they are, they aren’t respected, or, as that player said, their value isn’t completely understood . A baseball field and a clubhouse aren’t like a normal office, where men and women are expected to treat each other as equals. No, in sports, women have a place and they have to fight to get outside those lines. Players wouldn’t understand that unless they tried. And many don’t want to try. That’s not to insinuate Syndergaard wouldn’t understand if you explained the other side of things. Many players will more than likely get beyond worrying about this pretty fast.

Truthfully, baseball can be a safe haven for bad behavior, as all sports are. And in recent years, decisions have been made to change that, usually due to public outcry.

A few years ago, MLB cracked down on problems with players on social media, issuing guidelines that players must follow in order to engage on SM platforms. And last year, a new Domestic Violence Policy was agreed upon, allowing MLB to suspend players regardless of a court’s decision, among other things.

How many of these same players took a vocal stand on domestic violence, when players, especially teammates, were involved? They’ll take a stand on their right to mock women, but not to actually show respect for women’s bodies and safety. The same Mets players are supporting their teammate Jose Reyes, who was arrested for violently attacking his wife. They likely would never take to Twitter to rant about that. In that NY Post story, Brandon Nimmo, a fine person whom I had the pleasure of covering in the minors, is pictured with Reyes. He had a measured, thoughtful, if not neutral response.

“For me it was a good experience. We were lucky to have a good group of veterans who didn’t exploit it.”

Nimmo never showed anything but the utmost respect to me and other women in baseball, so to categorize him as insensitive or thoughtless about the issue would be unfair. He doesn’t fit under that umbrella. Surely like many players, he’s not for or against it, and enjoyed just doing something traditional and fun when making his big league debut.

Which brings up the subject of the connectedness to all of this with women in sports media; have you ever walked into a clubhouse and been ridiculed for being a woman? Have you ever heard players screaming and yelling and catcalling so loudly, that your voice couldn’t be heard, so you walked out, only to have the player follow you and taunt you more? Have you ever heard a player faking a lengthy orgasm, of what he seems to think women sound like when sexually satisfied? Have you ever listened to two players talk about what another teammate wants to do to you sexually? Have you ever been questioned about how you look or what you’re wearing by a colleague who said you don’t look like a baseball writer, or a player who says you should expect to be sexually harassed when entering the clubhouse? Have you ever been asked, by a player in the clubhouse, “What if we were all naked?” or heard one yell, “What’s that girl doing in here?” to laughter? Have you ever come in contact with what women in sports call a “towel dropper”, and him wait until you turned, dropped the towel and laugh in your face? Well, I have. And that’s not the half of it. That’s the way many players, coaches, managers, and men working in baseball view women, and it doesn’t matter that I’m a professional. My female-ness, my being a woman, my wearing lipstick and heels and a dress are symbols of something outside the macho realm, therefore, I don’t belong. That’s why dressing up like us is so funny. We’re worthy of ridicule. And when we enter the room as serious professionals, the jig is up. The emotions run high, and their brains don’t seem to know what to do. A woman is present. And God forbid you take that seriously.

They want us to “understand” bro culture, but they plainly say they don’t understand anyone who isn’t on board with what they do or say, and they don’t want to hear from anyone who isn’t. They accuse anyone in disagreement of being too sensitive, but they’re reacting with a high level of hysteria over not being able to wear a bra and lipstick.

In response to Huff, former professional pitcher with the San Francisco Giants, Shane Loux, tweeted, “I remember that. So much fun. Has any player spoken out against this or is it only columnists who were never part of anything like this ever?”

I responded to him by saying, no, many of us weren’t part of that. Just like players aren’t a part of what we experience. As a writer and reporter, and columnist, I’ve heard every sort of offensive thing directed at me by players. But I still write about them, still keep covering the game. Because I try to understand people, and their experiences; it’s amazing what you can do when you try. And, in my case, I shouldn’t have to try to understand why I’ve been treated that way. It’s possible none of them thought about it like that. That’s fine. Then you can’t ask others to understand your fun and games, if you don’t regard others opinions and thoughts as worth listening to.

Baseball is changing, but you know what hasn’t changed? They’re playing a game for a living. And major league players making millions emoting on Twitter over not being able to have fun anymore is, well, laughable. You’ll have plenty of fun. You’re playing baseball. Women love you. Men want to be you.

What players now have to do, outside of the fun of playing the game, and getting a healthy paycheck is take the time to understand things they might never have before. We get it. Being feminine is humorous. It’s hilarious that we’re women, and its why many of them think they can treat us like garbage when we walk into a locker room. It’s hard to let privilege go. Replacing it with being grateful, and listening to other people who ARE outside of your experiences, isn’t easy. But that’s what’s now expected of them. These guys aren’t bad people for participating in that tradition, not by any means. But they have to move on now. Take the time to listen to the message in the language MLB is using.

Major league baseball is taking steps to be more inclusive, and to be more aware of what’s important and the message they’re sending, not just to fans, but to their players. Playing baseball for a living, not getting to dress like women for a day, sounds like a fairly easy deal. It’s a new day for baseball players. And still a pretty great one.

Related articles

Twitter Reacts To MiLB VP's Stance To 'Man The Battle Stations' In Response To Lawsuit

@JordiScrubbings: "So what type of baseball market is Tampa Bay? Or all of the above?"

Durham Bulls to Mark 20th Anniversary with 'All-DBAP Team'

When I Stopped Being A Writer

Within a few weeks, after a succession of events, my identity as a writer disappeared. It was that fast. And it was that definitive. For the first time since I was a child, and the first time in my professional writing life, I had no compass as a creative person, who’d always found putting words on paper easier than anything else in life. It started in September, in the most common of ways. I got fired. More specifically, I got fired from a job writing for a site that I’d long dreamed of writing for. I’d contacted different editors through the years, every winter, to see if there was an opening or any interest. I couldn’t believe that I’d finally gotten my foot in the door with the site, Baseball Prospectus. I thought the opportunity was the start of something that I could build on. I was eager to prove myself. At the end of the baseball season, I noticed several people resigning. I got nervous. I analyzed my communication with the editors, keenly aware something was under foot. Sure enough, I got the email many of us heard was coming. After six months, my time with BP was over. In response, my mind started to shift. I started wondering, not only, “What now?” But “What do I even want?” It was a humiliating, intense blow, and it took the wind out of my writing spirit. My certainty as a writer, with an eye on the future I’d been trying to cultivate, was gone. In the age of online media, no job is secure. In the midst of this, I was trying to moderate a private baseball chat and networking group for women in baseball. Issues had arisen, but nothing I couldn’t handle with relative ease. The group was created by me and four other women in the business. We’d expanded it outside of our circle with the intention and hope of giving other professional women in baseball a safe space to vent, talk baseball without “mansplaining,” and swap advice and support. I’d also hoped it gave women a place to report sexual harassment or sexist treatment from the team or personnel, so that we could point them in the right direction on how to handle it. I had such high hopes and was incredibly proud of this thing we’d created, something I’d thought about for a long time. And for a time, it was a success, bursting with vital energy and camaraderie. That too would change. Private conversations led me to question whether the group was serving the higher purpose we’d intended. We decided to shift the group to Linkedin, to grow the community as a larger network for women in baseball. When the announcement was made in the group, some of the members weren’t on Linkedin so that didn’t work for them. That was understandable. But the majority simply didn’t seem interested. I took it as a personal failure that I wasn’t able to develop that into what I’d hoped. But I also understand not everything works out the way we envision. The problem was that I had no other vision of that venture, and it had been in my mind for so long. It was hard to believe things went so wrong. Also, in the age of social media, no connection is quite what it seems. And the emphasis on social is sometimes lost on me. I was reminded that day. Then came another reminder about the power of social media on the creative, professional life. The name of the group, “Pitchslapped,” coined by one of the founders was beloved by many, particularly women who, like me, hated the word it derives from and liked turning it on its head. It was also, obviously, a baseball reference. It’s been used by an accapella group as well, though I didn’t know that at the time. As the group was disintegrating, suddenly, a bunch of Twitter users who didn’t like the name began to tweet really rough, personal stuff to and about me. I did my best to deflect, but the mob got louder and more joined in, including a member whom I'd welcomed into the group with open arms when she requested an invite. She was quick to publicly shame me, despite talking often about online bullying of women. All the while, knowing my history. A few years ago, I came forward as a survivor of domestic violence and devoted myself to advocacy, which included writing about DV in baseball. To be suddenly mocked and verbally attacked for hours, felt quite a lot like abuse, so that was interesting. But it tore me to my core. Domestic violence and sexual assault advocacy part of my purpose in life, and a major focus of my personal and professional life. People say that’s the price you pay for being in a public forum, for being a creative person that shares what they create with the masses. I don’t know that I agree with that. Is that our only way of viewing the public forum? As a free for all to express the worst in us? If it is, maybe I’m not meant to be on that public of a stage. I don’t relate to ripping apart others for personal gain by joining in an angry mob. If that’s social media, if that’s how we relate to each other as human beings, and if that’s being a writer, I am not in the right place. Something shifted in my spirit after the group fell apart and readers attacked me on Twitter. I started questioning how I’d prioritized and connected. I began realizing what I’d been devoting so much energy to, social media, had basically consumed my writing life. It became identity. When my sense of myself as a writer fell apart, I realized that social media had been an enormous part of it. I’m private in a careful, deliberate, at times relentless way. I don’t give easily. And yet, I’d given many more inches than I’d wanted to, in order to function as a writer. And, admittedly, to compete with the rest of the writing world, particularly for those in sports, where it’s hard to stand out and information is constant. Standing outside of the pack is difficult. I hadn’t seen how I’d allowed that to become too important. My energy was invested in a way that utterly exhausted me and left me feeling empty. I’m not “Social Media Girl.” I don’t believe in the Facebook era, where we call people friends who aren’t. I hate it. When I gave in (pattern alert) and joined Facebook, it was to manage a social media account for another company. I’d never meant to become part of the culture. But that brings me to my next and final “incident of note.” As I was going through a complete upheaval within, my existential crisis was joined with a worldlier breakdown: the presidential election. Similar to the personal, I’d been painstakingly careful about revealing anything political. I’d walked the line, and kept it all very fair and at a distance. I spotlighted others thoughts, with a focus on minor leaguers, as always. My connection to the political was more of a way of reporting what others thought. At times, my attitude and beliefs emerged, but, again, not in a way that I thought would alienate anyone. I’m not interested in being highly or consistently political, but I don’t want to hide in the shadows, afraid to stand up with a more distinct point of view; because this is different. A spark was lit in a way that made me wonder what more I could do, and how I could be more of service. My focus will continue to be on violence against women and children, and those who are particularly vulnerable. I’m not sure how a role takes shape, but I’m doing things that feel right and important. I liked Republican and CNN analyst Ana Navarro’s quip about taking off the stilettos and protesting if she can. Since there’s been some confusion this past year about peaceful protest, it’s actually allowed. You can look it up. Because this is a baseball website, and a minor league-focused one, I don’t see the need to explain further than that, maybe elsewhere. For now, it’s important that everything I touched on, though highly personal, gets me to my point. I’ve changed. My focus has shifted, my energy has shifted. And I know it’s for the better. Am I still a writer? Yes.Always. But I don’t know where I fit in as a writer, and I’m unsure if I fit into today’s definition, in a social media saturated environment, where “friends” aren’t friends by definition, colleagues are handles with avatars, and how we communicate with each other is fast, often impulsive, and often lacks meaning. This blog will continue, but I’ll search for minor league stories that dig deeper. I announced before that I’d be devoting much of the blog’s space to long form journalism, and I plan to continue on that road. What I want to say to writers, whether you’re in baseball or not, is that our art still has meaning if we decide to pursue that. Yes, we’re in an era of five second videos and hot takes that grab attention; but we’re also in the position to reach many more people, and expand our possibilities if we search for them. Don’t give that up. I almost did. And losing my direction as a writer is both the scariest and best thing that could’ve happened.