Breaking My Silence Baseball Player Who

Opinion

I was 22 years old and working as a sports reporter when I was raped by a major-league baseball player while on assignment in the Dominican Republic. I kept it a secret from my best friend, my sister, my mother, and my sports editor, all of whom were female. For 18 years, I kept it a secret from everyone. I didn’t say it out loud to myself, I didn’t write it down, I didn’t utter his name, and I didn’t allow myself to think about it beyond wishing desperately that it hadn’t occurred. I wished for it to never happen for years.

When I learned that the general manager of the New York Mets, Jared Porter, was dismissed for exchanging sexually explicit messages and images to a female reporter in 2016, my world was turned upside down.

As a result, I was relieved to discover that I had not welcomed it, that I had done nothing wrong, something I had never even considered.

I have chosen not to name him because doing so would expose me to the prospect of having dirt thrown on my reputation; even now, more than a decade later, and in the aftermath of the #MeToo movement, a former professional player still has significant power in the sports world.

  1. More women will feel more comfortable speaking up when something is improper, I hope, as a result of me sharing my own experiences.
  2. So here’s my tale, the one that I’ve been keeping quiet for so many years now: I had just graduated from Notre Dame and was working for The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, where I was mostly covering high school sports, but was constantly seeking for new chances.
  3. It was over two decades ago, but I still remember how much effort went into it, how well it was received, and how pleased I was of myself for having done it.
  4. I sat down in a hotel room with my interview topic for a few minutes to talk.
  5. Then he rushed quickly to kiss me on the lips.
  6. I made an attempt to shove him.
  7. He pushed me even farther, climbing on top of me, removing my skirt, and engaging in sexual relations with me without my will.

And again and again, I replied “no.” I couldn’t move because I was too afraid.

Because it was the middle of summer in Texas.

Instead, I puked all over the floor and carpet.

I was 22 years old and had no previous baseball experience, and at the time — over two decades ago — the vast majority of baseball fans would have rallied to support the athlete.

It’s possible that I was too pleasant, too trusting, too friendly, and too open.

I lived in constant terror that the narrative would be revealed.

An All-Star player looked at me and spoke my name, as well as the name of his teammate, the man who had raped me, over and over again.

I was humiliated and ashamed of myself.

In the years that followed, I was required to travel to the city where he played for games on sometimes.

That was an offer that I couldn’t even contemplate at this point.

I had no idea how many other players were aware of what had transpired.

I avoided applying for employment in the places where he played for teams that I didn’t know about.

I didn’t start dating seriously until more than four years later because I didn’t feel comfortable with intimacy.

It was simple to explain away my decision to others and to myself at the time.

I redoubled my efforts in my professional life.

When I sensed fear, I forced myself to push through it.

The minor, regular assaults came and went with little fanfare.

There was the coach who was a reliable source for me and who affectionately referred to me as “Legs.” Since there were no panty lines visible under my jeans, players speculated that I was either wearing thong underwear below my pants, or that I wasn’t wearing any underwear at all.

I was surprised to hear this speculation.

There was the road series, during which players sat in the clubhouse and watched porn on a giant television, even while the clubhouse was open to reporters.

That was the only time I ever spoke out, and I’d want to express my gratitude to the general manager, who moved swiftly after learning of the situation.

Throughout the world of baseball, there are a plethora of male sports writers, players, agents, executives, clubhouse workers, and other personnel who I like and respect.

Despite this, the great majority of them were completely unaware of what is still a big source of anxiety for many female journalists.

Her narrative began in the same way as mine.

Even while her tale did not finish in the same manner as mine, I couldn’t help but wonder how many more female sports writers must be subjected to this kind of treatment until the call for change becomes more than an occasional eruption of fury.

It’s a narrative about power in our culture and how males use it to oppress and oppress other women.

There are, without a doubt, ladies in your life who fall into this category.

Why are we discussing this now?

For several weeks, I sobbed intermittently throughout the day.

I’ve had to stop running in the midst of a run because I’m hyperventilating because memories are flooding back to my mind.

Initially, the first two guys I told (both of whom are close to me) vowed that they believed me, admitted that what had happened was horrible and not my fault, and then said, “But you really couldn’t get away from it?” They might just as well have stabbed me in the back with a knife.

A professional athlete who was 70 to 80 pounds heavier than I was?

I wish things had improved substantially in the previous decade, but the instances of harassment and maltreatment that have surfaced recently indicate that this has not been the case.

But I’ve discovered my own voice.

I refrained from applying for employment that would put me in the public glare for fear that it would lead to the publication of my narrative.

I enjoy athletics and was previously successful in my previous profession.

I don’t want this attack to be the first thing that comes to mind when people think of me.

Being a rape victim is simply a small portion of my life’s narrative.

Over the course of my life, I’ve traveled to more than 30 countries on my own, lived abroad, learned to scuba dive in St.

I haven’t lost all hope, though.

The act of talking about it is terrible, but the act of not talking about it is just as traumatic, if not more so.

So I’ll leave you with my narrative and the understanding that my truth from all those years ago has not altered in any way, but has finally made its way into the light. I hope you like it.

Opinion

During the 2002 Major League Baseball season, I worked on a ground-breaking piece on foreign-born players and their experiences adjusting to life in the United States. Although it was over two decades ago, I recall the amount of effort that went into it, the high level of drama that ensued, and how pleased I was of myself. Looking back, I’m baffled as to how I was able to pull it all off. I sat in a hotel room with the topic of my interview, who was also there. We had a brief conversation during which I asked him some questions and he responded.

  1. I told him no, no, no, I don’t want that, but he forced me into the bed anyhow.
  2. I yelled no, wait, no, wait, no, wait, again and over, over and over.
  3. I couldn’t comprehend that it was happening to me because I couldn’t absorb what was going on.
  4. I couldn’t move because I was too afraid.
  5. Because it was the middle of summer in Texas.
  6. Instead, I strewn it all over the floor with my feet.
  7. I was 22 years old and had no previous experience, and at the time — about two decades ago — the majority of baseball fans gathered to support an athlete.
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I must have appeared to be extremely kind, very trusting, very friendly, and quite open to others.

I lived in constant terror that the narrative would be revealed.

An All-Star player stood there staring at me and mentioning my name as well as the name of his teammate who had assaulted me.

I was humiliated and ashamed of myself.

In subsequent years, I was required to travel to the city where he used to play for games on sometimes.

It was an offer that I was unable to even contemplate at the time.

Opinion

During the 2002 Major League Baseball season, I worked on a huge story on foreign-born players and their experiences adjusting to life in the United States. It was over two decades ago, yet I still remember how much effort went into it, how much attention it garnered, and how pleased I was of myself at the time. In retrospect, I’m not sure how I managed to get everything done. I sat down in a hotel room with my interview topic for a few minutes to talk. We talked for a few minutes, during which I asked him several questions and he responded.

  • But, despite my protestations to the contrary, he forced me over to the bed and sat down next me.
  • I repeated the words no, stop, no, stop over and over.
  • While it was taking place, I couldn’t comprehend that it was taking place to my face.
  • After that, I remember getting into my vehicle, shivering, and driving home, where I noticed my blue-and-white Express skirt and wondered, “Why did I have to be wearing a skirt?” Because it was the middle of summer in Texas.
  • Instead, I puked all over the floor and carpet.
  • I was 22 years old and had no previous baseball experience, and at the time — over two decades ago — the vast majority of baseball fans would have rallied to support the athlete.
  • It’s possible that I was too pleasant, too trusting, too friendly, and too open.

I lived in constant terror that the narrative would be revealed.

An All-Star player looked at me and spoke my name, as well as the name of his teammate, the man who had raped me, over and over again.

I was humiliated and ashamed of myself.

In the years that followed, I was required to travel to the city where he played for games on sometimes.

That was an offer that I couldn’t even contemplate at this point.

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r/longisland – I Am Breaking My Silence About the Baseball Player Who Raped Me (Newsday reporter)

Over the course of the 2002 Major League Baseball season, I worked on an important article on foreign-born players and their experiences adjusting to life in the United States, which was published by ESPN. It was over two decades ago, yet I still remember how much effort went into it, how much attention it garnered, and how pleased I was of myself for having completed it successfully. In retrospect, I’m not sure how I managed to complete the task. I sat down in a hotel room with my interview subject for a few minutes of conversation.

  1. When he moved to kiss me, it was like a flash.
  2. I attempted to shove him away from me.
  3. The words “no” and “stop” kept coming out of my mouth.
  4. I couldn’t comprehend that it was occurring to me when it was taking place.
  5. I couldn’t move because I was too afraid.
  6. As a result of the hot summer weather in Texas.
  7. As a result, I vomited all over the carpeting.

Most people in baseball would have rallied to support the athlete if I had been 22 years old and had no track record back then – nearly two decades ago.

Maybe I was a little too pleasant, a little too trusting, a little too open.

For months, I lived in constant worry that the narrative would be revealed.

An All-Star player looked at me and spoke my name, as well as the name of his teammate, the man who had raped me, over and over again in my face.

I was embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

It became necessary for me to travel to the city where he played for games in the following years, which I did.

I said yes.

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Opinion

When I was raped by a Major League Baseball player, I was 22 years old and working as a sports activities writer for a major newspaper. I didn’t tell anyone, even my best friend, my sister, my mother, or my sports editor, who happened to be a women. I didn’t tell anyone about my situation for 18 years. I didn’t say it out loud to myself, I didn’t write it down, I didn’t tell him his name, and I didn’t allow myself to think about it past the point of hoping that it couldn’t have happened. I wished it hadn’t happened for years and years.

  • All of that changed in January, when I learned that the New York Mets’ general manager, Jared Porter, had been sacked for sending sexually explicit messages and photographs to a female reporter back in 2016.
  • As a result of this came the realization that I had not welcomed it, that I had not done anything wrong in any way, something I had never even considered before to.
  • I have chosen not to identify him because doing so would just expose me to the possibility of having dirt thrown on my reputation; even now, many years later, and in the aftermath of the #MeToo movement, a former professional athlete retains significant power.
  • I hope that by sharing my personal experiences, other females would feel comfortable speaking out when they see something that is improper.
  • So, here’s my story, the one that I kept hidden for a few years because it was too painful to tell: I was a year out of Notre Dame and working for The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, where I was mostly covering highschool sports activities, but I was always on the hunt for opportunities to do more.
  • But even though it was over twenty years ago, I still remember how much effort went into it, how well-regarded the play became, and just how pleased I was with the result.
  • I sat down in a lodge room with my interview subject and prepared myself.
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Then he moved forward and kissed me on the lips.

I made an unsuccessful attempt to shove him.

He pushed me even farther, climbing on top of me, removing my skirt, and engaging in sexual relations with me without my will, which I found offensive.

I said no again and over again.

After that, I recall getting into my vehicle, shivering, and driving home in my blue-and-white Express skirt, wondering why I was required to be wearing a skirt in the first place.

I recall consuming a bottle of crimson wine as soon as I returned to my apartment, in an attempt to numb my disappointment and wrath by consuming alcohol.

I was quite aware that if I told anyone about what had happened, it may jeopardize my professional future.

As a result, I held myself responsible.

Despite the fact that I explicitly stated no, there must have been a miscommunication.

I was again at the ballpark in Arlington, this time in the clubhouse of the visiting team, not long after the attack had occurred.

Suddenly, I realized that he had to have informed people since he was portraying himself as a stud and me as a girl who was there to pick up ball players rather than complete my job.

It was the participant who had assaulted me who did not say anything further to me after that.

At one point, a sports activities editor in his city got in touch with me to see if I’d be interested in covering for him and his team.

For more than six years after that, while covering Major League Baseball for The Fort Worth Star-Telegram and subsequently for Newsday, I ran across the All-Star teammate who had leered at me in a number of clubhouses.

While I was still working in baseball, that teammate continued to gaze at me and make me feel uneasy for the rest of my career.

The rape followed me to my place of employment, and for the rest of my life, I avoided anything that would bring back unpleasant memories.

People were kept at a safe distance.

I was on the road for half of the year and worked at night and on weekends.

I used to be elevated to the position of lead Rangers beat writer.

However, there have been times when I felt frightened when leaving the ballpark at night because of the empty stadium concourses and dark parking lots around me.

Then there was the occasion when one other sports activities reporter informed me that he had heard a fake story that I had purchased my position as a Rangers mascot because I had slept with one of the team’s administration.

There have been reports of people — mostly male sportswriters — making assumptions about whether or not a female reporter had slept with a certain player just because she was nice or if she had been in a pub frequented by players.

There was the road series, where players hung around in the clubhouse and watched porn on a large television, even while the clubhouse was open to media.

Fortunately, it was the one and only time I raised my voice, and I am grateful to the last supervisor, who moved swiftly after learning of the situation.

In the realm of baseball, there are countless male sports writers, players, brokers, executives, and clubhouse personnel that I like and respect on a personal level.

Nonetheless, the vast majority of them were blissfully unaware of what is still a major source of anxiety for many female journalists today.

Her narrative began in the same way as mine.

Although her tale did not conclude in the same way as mine, I was left wondering how many more female sports activities journalists would have to experience a situation like this before the call for change becomes more than an occasional eruption of shock and outrage?

It’s a story about the power that guys possess in our society, and how they use that power against women.

There are, without a doubt, females in your life who are among those who fall into this category.

Why are we talking about this now?

I used to cry on and off throughout the day for several weeks.

My running has been cut short because I hyperventilate when memories flood back into my mind while I’m out for a run.

The first two men I told (both of whom are people I know) first vowed that they believed me, then agreed that what had happened was horrible and not my fault, and then asked, “But you really couldn’t get away?” within the next second.

Because of my shame and self-blame, I haven’t told anyone for 18 years, and now you’re asking me if I couldn’t have gotten away with it?

Finally, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to say this aloud, and I added my voice to a motion that is seeking all of the voices it is likely to receive in response.

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Previously, I was concerned about losing my work as a sports activities journalist, but that worry was unfounded.

Just as important, I’ve discovered that a trauma that had been lingering inside me for 18 years at times has weighted me down and limited my ability to make judgments in my personal and professional life.

As I type this, my fingers are trembling a little bit.

And the sports activities industry suffers as a result of professional girls questioning whether or not it is worthwhile to participate in an industry that is fraught with sexual harassment.

I’m not looking for sympathy.

There are numerous things that are more interesting about me, such as my love for Spain, the fact that I’ve run six marathons and qualified for Boston since having a stroke, the fact that I’ve worked for a number of of the most well-known and revered corporations on the planet, and the fact that I volunteer with the International Rescue Committee.

  1. Lucia, kite surf in Spain and Brazil, and be one of the only females in a number of locales.
  2. I will no longer allow a violent act committed by a person to define my life or define my destiny.
  3. In the end, I’ll leave you with my narrative and the conviction that my reality from all these years ago has not fundamentally changed, but has at long last come into the light of day.
  4. Her educational background includes degrees from both the University of Notre Dame and the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania.
  5. The Times is committed to publishing a diverse range of letters to the editor in its publications.

We’d want to hear your thoughts on this, or any of our stories, so please share them with us. Here are a few suggestions. And here’s what we’ve sent via electronic mail: Follow The New York Times Opinion section on social media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion), and Instagram.

Former sports reporter reveals she was raped by MLB player in 2002

According to Kat O’Brien, writing in The New York Times, she was assaulted in a hotel room while interviewing the player while working as a junior writer in Texas when she was 22 years old. The rape of a former sports writer by an unidentified Major League Baseball player occurred in 2002, according to the woman who came forward. A New York Times opinion piece published on Sunday claimed that Kat O’Brien, then a 22-year-old junior reporter, was attacked in a hotel room while interviewing the player while she was a 22-year-old junior reporter.

  • O’Brien stated that she had been out of college for a year and was currently employed as a reporter for The Fort Worth Star-Telegram in Texas.
  • My interview subject and I settled into a hotel room for the duration of the session.
  • After that, he moved abruptly to kiss me,’ she recalled in her letter to me.
  • I made an attempt to shove him.
  • I couldn’t stop him from pushing deeper, climbing on top of me, taking my skirt off, and having sexual relations with me without my will.
  • And again and again, I replied “no.” I couldn’t move because I was too afraid.
  • ‘Instead, I puked all over the floor and carpet.’ Originally from Notre Dame, O’Brien began his career covering the Texas Rangers for the Star-Telegram before moving on to cover the New York Yankees for Newsday.

She was working for Newsday at the time, and she was covering the New York Yankees.

The Rangers stadium as it appeared in 2002 is seen above.

‘I was 22 years old and had no previous baseball experience, and at the time — nearly two decades ago — the vast majority of baseball fans would have rallied to support the athlete.

The only explanation is that I was simply too pleasant, too trustworthy, too kind and open.

She claims that not long after the rape, she ran into an All-Star player at the Arlington, Texas, baseball stadium, who was with the visiting team’s clubhouse.

As O’Brien explained, “I suddenly understood that he must have told people about me, portraying himself as some kind of stud and me as some kind of girl who was there to pick up ball players instead of doing my work.” Following the rape, she stated that she avoided accepting employment in locations where the rapist was playing baseball and avoided taking higher-profile writing assignments for fear that her tale would become public.

  1. O’Brien stated that she had been out of college for a year and was now employed as a reporter for The Fort Worth Star-Telegram newspaper in Texas.
  2. ‘I didn’t start dating seriously until more than four years later because I didn’t feel comfortable with intimacy.
  3. To others, as well as myself, it was very simple to justify my decision.
  4. Even now, in the aftermath of the #MeToo movement, a former professional athlete still has enormous authority, which is why I have chosen not to name him.
  5. Instead of seeking justice for a single heinous event, she hopes to contribute to structural change.
  6. O’Brien explained that she made the decision to come forward after reading the reports.
  7. After 11 years away from sports reporting, she recalled how she was struck by the full impact of her own sexual assault when she read tales of other women’s encounters with sexual harassment.

The satisfaction of realizing that I had not welcomed it, that I had not done anything wrong at all, was something I had never even considered before.

I Am Breaking My Silence About the Baseball Player Who Raped Me

During the 2002 Major League Baseball season, I worked on a huge story on foreign-born players and their experiences adjusting to life in the United States. It was over two decades ago, yet I still remember how much effort went into it, how much attention it garnered, and how pleased I was of myself at the time. In retrospect, I’m not sure how I managed to get everything done. I sat down in a hotel room with my interview topic for a few minutes to talk. We talked for a few minutes, during which I asked him several questions and he responded.

But, despite my protestations to the contrary, he forced me over to the bed and sat down next me.

I repeated the words no, stop, no, stop over and over.

I couldn’t comprehend that it was happening to me because I couldn’t absorb what was going on.

After that, I remember getting into my vehicle, shivering, and driving home, where I noticed my blue-and-white Express skirt and wondered, “Why did I have to be wearing a skirt?” Because it was the middle of summer in Texas.

Instead, I puked all over the floor and carpet.

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