*This article may contain product links which pay me a small commission if you make a purchase. Learn more.
As I peered scowled across the clubhouse at him, I wondered why I had to have this conversation. I was 29. I wasn’t a little kid and though we were both playing a game for a living, this was not the middle school playground. I had no lunch money to give.
“You think you’re funny, but really you just talk down to everyone,” I said loudly, angrily, as I sat at my locker.
The big clubhouse went silent as I continued:
“I’m not your [expletive] little brother and you’re not going to keep [expletive] talking to me that way.”
“I’m a grown man, I’ve done nothing to you, and I’m pretty sick of your [expletive]. You talk down to me, make me the butt of your jokes and single me out in front of everyone.”
“It’s gonna stop now.”
How Did We Get Here?
I remember the first day I met my bully.
He was a former Major Leaguer, about four years older than me. We intersected as teammates in 2015. I was on my way up the food chain; he was on his way down.
A bunch of us were standing in the outfield during batting practice. He was talking about his lower back pain, which had become both chronic and debilitating. His precipitous drop from the promised land was in large part because of injuries. Trying to be helpful to a new guy I’d be sharing a dugout with for six months, I extended an olive branch:
“I own a sports performance facility back in Illinois where I live,” I said. “If you need any suggestions on exercises for your back, let me know; I can help you.”
“Thanks,” he said. The conversation moved on.
Quiet and somewhat socially awkward as a kid, I had learned in my 20s that speaking up, listening and showing an interest in others was a good way to break the ice and develop new friendships.
I especially wanted to learn from and hear the stories of guys who had played in places I wanted to go. I figured being nice was a good way to start building trust.
What’s Wrong Inside?
The common sentiment behind bullying behavior is that inside, the person hates him or herself.
Such was true here.
The bully was funny, quick-witted and charismatic. When he talked, he talked loudly and the room fell hushed.
Everyone took a turn as the target of one of his quick roasts or a ball-busting joke. We all laughed; it was always poignant and witty. He was genuinely funny, though most of his humor involved tearing someone else down. Yet, no one was safe and it was all in good fun. When everyone takes a turn, we can all laugh along.
Then, a pattern began to emerge
Many of my teammates stopped getting their regular roasting. It was no longer a democratic, jokes-against-all situation. His unspent ammunition seemed to go mostly toward just one person:
Me.
I’d Had Enough
As a ballplayer, a lot of different motivations drove me to achieve. One–especially in the later years of my career–was to feel respected by other good players.
There aren’t always good, objective measures of who you are as an athlete. Your stats don’t sum you up as a competitor, as a person. Your reputation, though, speaks volumes about who you are and the legacy you leave.
I had a lot of setbacks–I was a late bloomer and had two arm surgeries in addition to a lot of injury time beyond that. I didn’t achieve as much on paper as others my age, and so my reputation and the respect of my peers meant a lot to me. Basically, it was all I had.
I carried myself like a professional. I showed up early, worked hard and was a reliable, trustworthy teammate. I took pride in being well-prepared to do my job every night both for myself and the good of my team.
And so, as the occasional joke at my expense–which I could easily laugh off–became the daily joke, I’d had enough.
It was going to stop.
I May Have Been the First To Confront Him…Ever
Thankfully, the altercation didn’t escalate into a fight, though I knew it had the potential to. In a room full of alpha males, challenges aren’t taken lightly.
The next day, my close friend on the team came and found me during pre-game. He had played with my bully for a number of years earlier in his career, and knew both of us well.
“Dude,” he said. “I don’t think anyone’s ever talked to him the way you did.”
“He asked me if I thought he talked down to people, and he was clearly thinking a lot about it. He’s like that everywhere he goes, but I just don’t think he’s ever gotten called out.”
“You got to him,” he said. I nodded.
Self Defense is Scary
I’M NOT YOUR LITTLE BROTHER.
I said what I needed to say.
I was firm in defending who I believed I was: a guy who handled himself like a professional, respected his teammates and deserved the same in return.
He and I didn’t speak another word that season.
There wasn’t a fairytale ending where we became buddies–I honestly wasn’t interested in his friendship–but he never said a word about me again.
How Do Kids Deal With Bullying?
Even as a 29-year-old man, it was hard sitting in that clubhouse, my blood boiling, summoning the courage to confront him in front of everyone.
My anger made it both easier to start, but harder to keep my composure and be constructive about what I would say.
It easily could have escalated into a fight, albeit one that my teammates would have quickly broken up. I knew that when I started saying my piece, which made it even more scary to speak up.
No matter how tough or physical you are, no one wants to have to fight another person to earn basic respect and maintain their dignity.
Do Parents Step In? Coaches?
I don’t think so, though every situation is different.
I think kids have to fight their own battles to an extent. In my situation, there obviously wasn’t anyone else who belonged between us–it was man to grown man.
We had to settle it, and I did. Thankfully, it was with words. Bullying in sports is common and it’s not going away.
I think the urge is for coaches and parents to quickly swoop in, but it both doesn’t teach the skill nor force the aggressor to find respect for his target. My problem was solved because I woke him up to how he treats other people and explained that his behavior toward me would no longer be tolerated.
Conflict Resolution is a Life Skill
Some percentage of people in positions of authority will abuse it and talk down to people below them.
In this case, my bully had significant clout and status over me because of his MLB career; there is a pecking order in clubhouses, and he knew where he stood. If he talked first, others listened.
For kids, learning to confront those who tear them down–especially publicly with the intent to humilitate–is an important skill they’ll use in the job force. I’m sure many of you reading this have had a boss or co-worker who fits the same dubious description.
With all skills, we have to learn them somehow. What that looks like in this situation will be highly variable, but it’s a skill nonetheless. Conflicts are hard; dealing with them constructively takes a lot of skill.
How Do You Confront a Bully?
It’s delicate. It can backfire. It can become a fight. It can be scary.
But in the end, someone has to advocate for and stand up for me, for you.
Want More?
Sign up for my weekly newsletter. I sent this story out to my subscribers as soon as it was written. I’d love to send you my best new free content.
And for more stories about the life we athletes live, check out my book.
*note: I corrected my age to 29; I originally put my age at 30 because I miscalculated how old I was in 2015…I turned 30 that year, but after the season ended. Good job, me…math is hard.