Over the last two weeks, local and national sports coverage has been rife with viral videos of grown-ass adults acting like daycare bullies.
Two Phillies fans feuding over a home run ball in the stands. Jalen Carter spitting at Dak Prescott. An entitled Polish millionaire stealing a souvenir cap from a little boy at the U.S. Open. The Buffalo Bills fan who smacked two Baltimore Ravens players upside their helmets as they celebrated a touchdown.
The dumb behavior has been worsened by the usual bloodthirsty and tiresome calls from outraged masses calling for revenge on the perps …
… because justice cannot be served until a perp’s life is ruined forever.
Look, people will never cease acting badly, because people are human, which means we fuck up. Now that cameras are everywhere, including in our own pockets, we’re forever being exposed to misbehavior that once went undocumented.
Since the cameras aren’t going away, we can’t do anything about the documentation. But you know who can do something about the public’s coarse, over-the-top reaction to it? The victims of the perps themselves.
And I think Drew Feltwell is just the guy to get the sea change rolling.
Feltwell, of course, is the father who had a crazy altercation last week with a female fan at the Phillies-Marlins game at LoanDepot Park in Miami, where he was in the stands with his wife and two kids when a home run ball rocketed their way.
TV cameras followed the action as Feltwell, the woman, and others scrambled for it. All we could see were bobbing heads and shuffling backs until Feltwell’s hand jerked upward with the ball. He then strolled triumphantly back to his seat, where he handed the ball to his son, Lincoln, who was about to celebrate his 10th birthday.
Best dad ever!
But then one of the people who was in the ball scrum aggressively confronted Feltwell. She furiously claimed that the ball was hers and that Feltwell pulled it right the fuck out of her hands. They exchanged tense words, until he handed it over, like, “Fine, then, lady — take it.”
For the record, I haven’t seen clear video evidence that would confirm which of those two were honestly entitled to the ball. But both sports teams — and about 110 percent of the digisphere — clearly thought Feltwell was in the right.
In a lovely after-game gesture, the Phillies arranged a family meeting with Harrison Bader, the center fielder who smoked that homer. He signed a bat for young Lincoln, and the Marlins stepped up, too, with swag bags of merch for Lincoln and his sister, Averie.
What if, inspired by Feltwell, other victims of similar offenses convened their own public-facing, peace-making sessions to show the world that the higher ground can be a fun place to hang out together, and there’s always room for another chair?
The most eye-popping gesture, though, has come from Marcus Lemonis, the billionaire investor and chairman and CEO of Camping World, Good Sam Enterprises, and Beyond, Inc. The day after the game, he retweeted a video of the altercation, saying, “I’ll send this young man and his family to the @MLB World Series on me. Oh and you just won an RV as well.”
Talk about lemons to lemoncello! Go, reaffirmed belief in humanity, GO!
But I keep thinking about what Drew Feltwell said in one of his many post-game sit-downs with local and national media. While appreciative of the public support, he said, he’s also worried about the well-being of the as-yet-unidentified woman, who has been absolutely savaged on social media.
“Please, don’t do anything to that lady,’’ he begged the public in an interview with USA Today. “Leave it alone. You know, somebody knows her and can talk to her — that’s different. But God, I don’t want people breaking in their house and stuff like that. The internet already messed her up pretty good. I could say something like she got what she deserved, but I don’t know if she deserved that much.”
What a sane, right-sized thing to say. Because what was at stake was a baseball, for God’s sake, not a box of insulin.
How Feltwell could seize this moment
Here’s where I think Feltwell could do something even more powerful with the moral upper hand fate has handed him. He could use it to extend an olive branch to the woman he argued with, by putting out a public call for her to privately contact him — so they can watch a televised Phillies game together, with their families, away from public scrutiny.
Over pizza and wings, Feltwell and the woman could get to know each other while cheering the team, booing bad calls, and deconstructing all the ways that Phillies play-by-play broadcasters Tom McCarthy and John Kruk make baseball so sweet to listen to.
Why not? They obviously share a passion for America’s Favorite Pastime; they practically sprained their backs, diving for that ball. This could be a chance for them to use their mutual love of the Phils to craft a bigger, better, happier ending to this way-too-inflamed story.
Just imagine the public reaction if both families shared selfie pics and videos of everyone at their kindest, nicest, chilled-out best. I’ve already written a caption for the posts, which I guarantee will go viral:
“Attention, fellow Phillies fans! Good news: All is forgiven — on both sides. Here’s to all of us using shared love for the best team in baseball to bring people together, not drive them apart. Go, Fightin’s!”
You’re welcome, everyone.
I know. It’s a big ask of Feltwell, who comes across as a bit shy and mild-mannered. This could be a little too out there for him. Except he also seems like a really good guy and an even better dad, acutely aware of the parental responsibility to model mature, honorable behavior for his kids.
He has repeatedly said he returned the ball because he didn’t want an already heated interaction, especially in front of his children, to devolve into something he’d regret later. And he was glad that his kids got to see that, a) yes, disappointment may result when you choose keeping peace over escalating conflict; but b) you never know what might follow.
Like an RV ride to the World Series, baby!
What if, inspired by Feltwell, other victims of similar offenses convened their own public-facing, peace-making sessions to show the world that the higher ground can be a fun place to hang out together, and there’s always room for another chair?
Imagine if Dallas quarterback Dak Prescott told Eagles defensive tackle Jalen Carter at a press conference, “No sweat about the spit, big guy — grass and blood leave more stains than saliva! Let’s let it go.” (And if he really wanted to go for a touchdown, he’d add, “And Philly fans are right — I spat first.”)
Imagine if the parents of the kid whose souvenir hat from tennis star Kamil Majchrzak was swiped at the U.S. Open were to arrange a public coffee with the entitled grabber to say, “Looks like you’ve been punished enough. Besides, Kamil had a one-on-one with our son and gave lots of gifts. So no worries — he’s whole, and we’re good!”
Imagine if Baltimore Ravens teammates DeAndre Hopkins and Lamar Jackson raised a conciliatory, brewpub glass with the as-yet-unnamed Buffalo Bills fan who whacked them, saying, “Look, friend, you went too far. Don’t ever do that again. But we respect your love for the game. Can you tell us why it makes you so happy?”
The public would not only swoon for this stuff, they’d get to see something rare in action: People broadening the story they have about the person who aggrieved them, because they took the time to find out what else is true about them, beyond the shitty moment that will live forever on the Internet.
Talk about showing strength through ease, not dominance.
Calling Jon McCann, Ovation Man
Why must Feltwell be the guy to get this trend started? Shouldn’t one of those more powerful victims — three NFL stars and a business tycoon, all used to the limelight — take the lead instead of putting it on an everyman like Feltwell, who appears to live a modest and quiet life with his family in West Palm Beach?
No, they should not. Because Feltwell’s Everyman status is his superpower. Just as it is for our own Jon McCann.
McCann is the Bridesburg YouTuber who, in August of 2023, posted a quick video to Phillies fans: Stop booing Phillies shortstop Trea Turner and give the guy standing ovations instead.
Turner was in a god-awful slump. McCann, who’d struggled with his own mental health, saw in him a player who looked “really depressed.” So he asked Phillies fans to show Turner some love.
And they did. Turner got multiple standing ovations, hit a go-ahead homer, and went on to finish one of the best seasons of his career. That astounding act of fan kindness is now chronicled in The Turnaround — a Netflix short film about the gesture, which went on to win a Sports Emmy.
A year later, McCann’s idea inspired a Mets fan on Twitter to ask game attendees to give continual standing ovations for struggling shortstop Francisco Lindor. Mets owner Steve Cohen saw the post and responded with “Love that idea. It worked in Philly with Turner. Positivity goes a long way.”
Lindor, like Turner, went on to have his own turnaround.
I think an olive branch summit hosted by Feltwell could make a similar impact on how we treat each other — and have legs beyond the world of sports offenses. When any of us decide to forgive someone’s trespasses, say, we’d tell our friends, “I pulled a Feltwell — and I Feltbetter!” Or we might advise a friend who’s wrestling with a painful grudge against someone, “I’d Feltwell that shit if I were you. I mean, what do you have to lose?”
In workplaces, boardrooms, community meetings — you name the place, the Feltwell method of broadening a painful story beyond its currently offensive ending will allow the world to start getting its arms around an old-fashioned notion that needs a comeback:
The power of compassion, understanding and respect is actually mightier than that of judgement, obfuscation and contempt. It’s also just way more fun to exercise, because it can lead to places you never, ever could’ve imagined in Grudgeville.
Like the World Series.
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