Somewhere along the way, cheering turned into jeering, and loyalty became license for cruelty. MLB isn’t just facing a pitching problem—it’s facing a people problem. When even family members need to defend players from the stands, something’s gone horribly sideways. After Ketel Marte’s heckling incident, Francisco Lindor and his wife, Katia Lindor, stepped up—and what they revealed says more about MLB’s culture than any scoreboard ever could.

Things in sports are taking a turn for the worse. The relationship between the fans and the players is more toxic than ever before. The fans are no longer acting like fans. After the Ketel Marte incident, many such incidents have come to light. The latest being Francisco Lindor’s wife, Katia Lindor, who has come out and supported all the players who have been abused.

In her recent Instagram post, Katia Lindor talked about all the recent incidents. She wrote, “I’m usually quick to speak up for the marginalized, not so much for the privileged, for obvious reasons… I’ve received death threats over my husband’s on-field performance… Frustration is valid. Dehumanization is not. Let’s be better.”

In recent times, MLB players have stopped being seen as humans and more as emotionless performers. The stadium becomes a courtroom, and every mistake a public trial with no mercy. This mindset forgets the person behind the jersey, the family behind the name.

Take the case of Lance McCullers Jr., whose daughter asked, “Daddy, who wants to hurt us?” That haunting question shows how deep the cruelty can cut, beyond the game, into real lives. Abuse doesn’t stay on social media; it walks through their front doors. What begins as “passion” in the stands often ends in trauma at home.

And so, the box score isn’t the only thing fans are keeping tabs on—it’s the players’ lives. Somewhere between fantasy leagues and Twitter rants, humanity got benched. MLB athletes aren’t court jesters; they’re human beings with mortgages, mental health, and families watching. It’s high time fans checked their privilege—and their behavior—at the gate.

MLB needs to get a hold of things before it gets out of hand

There was a time when ballparks echoed with boos, not browser tabs. Now, Major League Baseball finds itself juggling home runs and hate mail, fastballs and death threats—all from fans who think a missed pitch ruined their parlay. MLB isn’t just managing rosters anymore; it’s babysitting the internet. And if the league doesn’t step up soon, the game might get lost somewhere between the scorecard and a troll’s timeline.

Online abuse in baseball isn’t just growing—it’s metastasizing. The rise of legalized sports betting has turned passionate fans into furious gamblers, blaming players for broken parlays. Throw in social media anonymity, and suddenly everyone’s an expert with a pitchfork. Abuse isn’t personal anymore—it’s performative, cruel, and constant.

Teams are tightening security, hiring guards, and assigning cyber analysts like it’s postseason prep. Boston and Houston now police their family sections like fortresses. But band-aids can’t stop a flood. It’s time for MLB to enforce real penalties and platforms to shut down cowards hiding behind screens.

If baseball wants to protect its soul, it can’t keep playing defense against digital mobs. The league needs to stop treating this like a rain delay—it’s a storm. Until real accountability exists online, every swing, miss, and error will come with a side of threats. MLB can’t fix the internet, but it sure as hell can stop pretending Wi-Fi rage is just part of the game.