There are bad takes, and then there’s what OutKick's Zach Dean chose to do with Konnor Griffin’s big-league debut.
Because while the baseball world should’ve been locked in on Griffin — a 19-year-old phenom making history, delivering in his first big-league at-bat, and injecting life into a Pittsburgh Pirates franchise that has desperately needed it — Dean decided that the story of the day was … his wife’s Instagram photos?
"What a 1-2 punch the Pirates have in the MLB WAG stable right now," Dean wrote in his article filled with bikini-clad photos of Griffin's wife, Dendy, and Paul Skenes' girlfriend, Livvy Dunne.
That’s not just lazy. It’s gross.
Reducing women to a “WAG stable” — as if they’re collectibles, accessories, or part of a roster construction strategy — isn’t edgy, funny, or even particularly original. It’s the same tired, dated playbook that sports media should’ve left behind years ago. And yet here it is, trying to hijack one of the most meaningful moments in a young player’s life.
That phrase alone tells you everything you need to know about the intent — and the respect level — behind the piece. It reduces real people to props. It turns women into inventory. It frames relationships as accessories to a male athlete’s value, like they’re part of a depth chart you can rank and compare.
That’s not coverage. That’s objectification dressed up as content.
The Griffins' reaction yesterday tells you all you need to know about Konnor 🥹💛
— SportsNet Pittsburgh (@SNPittsburgh) April 4, 2026
Congrats again to @KonnorGriffin22 & his family 👏 🤩 pic.twitter.com/fhSHNJB210
OutKick hijacked Konnor Griffin’s Pirates debut with gross, outdated misogyny
What makes this worse is the timing. This wasn’t a slow news day in January. This was a debut. A milestone. The kind of moment players dream about their entire lives — and the kind of moment fans remember for decades.
And Dean looked at all of that and said: “Let’s make this about women’s bodies.”
It’s the same tired formula that has plagued corners of sports media for years — reduce women to aesthetics, inject a little faux locker-room humor, and hope it generates clicks. But in 2026, it doesn’t come off as edgy. It comes off as outdated and desperate.
Women are not side characters in baseball stories. Livvy Dunne is a nationally recognized athlete and business force in her own right. Dendy Griffin is a person with her own life, her own identity, and her own agency — not a punchline, not a prop, and certainly not part of some imaginary “stable.”
The fact that this even needs to be said is the indictment.
And let’s talk about the broader damage. When you write something like this, you don’t just disrespect the individuals involved — you drag the entire conversation backward. You make sports spaces less welcoming, less thoughtful, and less serious. You reinforce the idea that women’s primary role in sports culture is to be seen, ranked, and commented on. That's corrosive.
Meanwhile, the actual story — the one Dean ignored — is still sitting there, waiting for someone to treat it with the weight it deserves. Konnor Griffin didn’t need any of this. His debut stood on its own. The Pirates didn’t need it either. For once, they had a moment that felt organic, hopeful, and rooted in baseball.
Dean didn’t just fail to elevate that moment. He diminished it. And in doing so, he exposed something that’s becoming increasingly clear: this kind of content isn’t just out of step with the game — it’s out of step with the audience.
Fans are smarter than this. They want substance. They want insight. They want stories that respect the people involved. Not this.
The good news, at least, is that "coverage" like Dean's doesn’t last. Moments like Griffin’s do. Long after the headlines fade and the clickbait disappears, what people will remember is the swing, the ovation, and the feeling that something new had arrived at PNC Park.
Not the noise. And certainly not the people trying to create it.
