Dear Baseball Fans,

We need to talk.

The game we love is in trouble, not because of pitch clocks or robot umpires, but because of us. The behavior of a growing portion of Major League Baseball’s fanbase has crossed a line.

You may have seen the story: after one of Bailey Ober’s recent rough outings, his wife was threatened on social media. Not criticized; not heckled. Threatened. She received death threats from strangers hiding behind burner accounts and gambling slips, lashing out as if her husband’s ERA gave them license to be inhumane. Think about that. A woman was sent death threats because her husband had a bad day at work. That’s not fandom.

Unfortunately, Ober’s situation is not isolated. Over the last week, Diamondbacks star Ketel Marte was brought to tears on the field in Chicago. A fan shouted a disgusting comment about Marte’s late mother, who died in a tragic car accident. Perhaps the aim was just to get a reaction, or maybe attention. Either way, it worked, and not in the way any of us should be proud of.

Yes, that fan was banned from every major-league stadium. And yes, he was reportedly remorseful. But that doesn’t erase the damage. And it doesn’t change the trend. Lance McCullers Jr. and Liam Hendriks have also reported receiving threats after poor performances, this year alone. Some on social media openly questioned the right of Byron Buxton to maintain a semblance of privacy about a death in his family, when he was away from the team for a few days this spring.

Let’s be clear: these players are people. They have spouses, children, and parents. They deal with slumps, pressure, mental health, and family tragedy, just like the rest of us. What they shouldn’t have to deal with is being dehumanized by fans who think buying a ticket or placing a bet makes them part-owner of someone’s dignity.

The increase in legalized sports gambling has made the situation worse. It’s removed a layer of empathy and replaced it with entitlement. Too many fans are treating athletes like avatars in a fantasy league, instead of the human beings they are. If their parlay busts because someone grounded into a double play, they take to Instagram or Twitter and unload on that player like they’re an NPC. It’s sick, and it’s dangerous.

Of course, this kind of behavior isn’t representative of every baseball fan. Not even close. But those who are guilty are getting louder, more brazen, and far too comfortable. And the silence from others, those who see it and say nothing, is just as harmful.

I know writing this letter might not do much. The ones who most need to hear this probably never will. Or they’ll roll their eyes and scroll past it from behind the same anonymous account where they spew their hatred. That screen gives them a false sense of power and protection. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us should stop speaking up.

Baseball is supposed to bring people together. That’s the magic of this game. It bridges generations, connects strangers, and creates communities. What we’re seeing now does the opposite. It drives players away. It drives good fans into silence. It builds walls between us, when the game is supposed to tear them down. 

We need to step up and protect the culture of this game. When we see people online crossing the line, we should report them. When we’re at a ballpark and hear someone yelling vile things, we should speak up or alert security. We can’t keep shrugging and saying, “Well, that’s just how fans are these days.” No. That’s how bad fans are. That’s how cowards behave.

Let’s be better.

Let’s remember that our passion for baseball doesn’t entitle us to abuse anyone. Let’s remind each other that players don’t owe us perfection. And let’s stop pretending that “tough love” means threatening someone’s family or mocking their grief.

There’s still a lot to love about this game. But if we don’t draw a line now, we’re going to lose more than just our favorite players’ respect. We’re going to lose what made baseball great in the first place.

Sincerely,
A fan who still believes we can do better.