In the age of social media, loyalty can travel faster than reason — and sometimes, a spouse's fury becomes the story that outlasts the season itself. Nearly a decade after Justin Verlander lost the AL Cy Young Award to Rick Porcello by five points, he has revealed that Kate Upton's now-legendary profanity-laced tweets were fired off entirely without his knowledge, while he sat live on MLB Network absorbing the loss in real time. The moment stands as a quiet parable about the porous boundary between private grief and public spectacle, and about what it means to defend someone you love in a worl
Verlander reveals he didn't know about Kate Upton's viral Cy Young rant until it was live
She was firing before he even knew it had started
So Verlander didn't know his wife was tweeting at all? He was just sitting there doing an interview?
Exactly. He was on MLB Network when the results came in. By the time he got off camera and found her, she'd already sent multiple tweets and had another one ready to go.
How many tweets are we talking about? The article mentions "a bunch of stuff" but only quotes one.
That's fair—we only see the one famous tweet. The reporting doesn't specify how many she actually sent before he found her.
And he convinced her to stop before the preloaded one went out?
Yes. He told her to stop, and she did. We don't know what that second tweet said.
So the narrative of "Kate Upton's rant" is really just one tweet that went viral, plus some others we don't have details about?
Right. One tweet became the story because it was sharp and profane and directly quoted. The others exist in the reporting but not in the public memory.
Why does this matter now, ten years later?
Because it's become a marker for how athlete spouses use social media—whether to defend, to attack, to be heard. It was early in that conversation.
Though we should note: Verlander has since won two more Cy Young Awards. So the loss that prompted the tweet didn't define his career.
True. But that tweet defined how people remember that night.
Did Upton ever comment on it herself?
The article doesn't include any statement from her. We're only hearing Verlander's account of what happened.
Il Polso
- Verlander was still on live television when Upton, watching from elsewhere, began unleashing a string of furious tweets at MLB and the writers who had left her husband off their ballots.
- By the time he found her after the broadcast, the damage — or the declaration, depending on your view — was already done and spreading rapidly across sports media.
- She had a second, preloaded tweet ready to send, raising the stakes of what was already an extraordinary public moment.
- Verlander managed to convince her to hold the follow-up, but the first tweet had already taken on a life of its own, screenshot and shared far beyond baseball circles.
- Now approaching its ten-year anniversary, the incident endures as a defining artifact of athlete-spouse advocacy in the social media era — raw, unscripted, and impossible to walk back.
In the age of social media, loyalty can travel faster than reason — and sometimes, a spouse's fury becomes the story that outlasts the season itself. Nearly a decade after Justin Verlander lost the AL Cy Young Award to Rick Porcello by five points, he has revealed that Kate Upton's now-legendary profanity-laced tweets were fired off entirely without his knowledge, while he sat live on MLB Network absorbing the loss in real time. The moment stands as a quiet parable about the porous boundary between private grief and public spectacle, and about what it means to defend someone you love in a world that is always watching.
Ten years ago this November, Kate Upton sent a tweet that would outlive most of the baseball season itself. It arrived on the evening of November 16, 2016, moments after Justin Verlander learned he had lost the American League Cy Young Award to Rick Porcello by five points. What made the moment stranger, Verlander recently revealed on the podcast On Base with Mookie Betts, was that he had no idea it was coming.
Verlander was live on MLB Network when the results were announced. The moment the decision was made public, Upton began typing. By the time he finished his on-air appearance and found her, she was already several tweets deep into a full-throated rebuke of the baseball writers who had voted against him. "You're not going to like it," she told him — and she was right. One tweet, laced with profanity and directed at MLB itself, had already gone viral. Worse, she had another one queued and ready.
Verlander talked her down before the second message could go out. What it would have said remains unknown. But the first had already done its work — everywhere, debated across sports media and far beyond it.
The episode became a defining moment in the emerging role of athlete spouses in the social media age. Upton, already one of the world's most recognizable models, could have stayed silent. She chose instead to fight publicly, not for herself, but for her husband, in real time and with full force.
Verlander has since won two more Cy Young Awards, cementing his legacy as one of baseball's all-time greats. Yet that November night — when a five-point margin and one unplanned tweet collided — remains the moment most vividly remembered, less for what it said about baseball than for what it revealed about loyalty, anger, and the irreversible speed of a single sent message.
Ten years ago this November, Kate Upton sent a tweet that would outlive most of the baseball season itself. It arrived on the evening of November 16, 2016, moments after her husband Justin Verlander learned he had lost the American League Cy Young Award to Rick Porcello—a margin of five points that would sting for years. What made the moment stranger, Verlander revealed recently on the podcast On Base with Mookie Betts, was that he had no idea it was coming.
Verlander was live on MLB Network when the voting results came in, part of a broadcast featuring the three finalists. The moment the announcement was made, Upton began typing. By the time her husband finished his on-air interview and made his way to find her, she was already several tweets deep into what would become a full-throated assault on the baseball writers who had voted against him. "I was doing MLB Network, they had the three finalists on the air, and as soon as it came out, she was firing," Verlander said, describing the scene with the tone of someone still slightly amazed at what had unfolded.
When he caught up with her, Upton delivered a warning: "You're not going to like it." She was right. The tweets were already live, and worse—she had another one queued up and ready to send. The message she had already posted cut straight to the point, laced with profanity and directed at Major League Baseball itself: "Hey @MLB I thought I was the only person allowed to f— @JustinVerlander ?! What 2 writers didn't have him on their ballot?" It was the kind of thing that would normally take hours to craft, test, and second-guess. Upton had done it in minutes, in real time, with the heat of the moment behind every character.
Verlander managed to talk her down before the preloaded follow-up could go out. He didn't elaborate on what that second tweet would have said, and at this point, nearly a decade later, the world will probably never know. What mattered was that he had stopped the bleeding, or at least slowed it. The first tweet had already done its work—it was everywhere, screenshot and shared and analyzed and debated across sports media and beyond.
The incident became a defining moment not just for Verlander's career but for the emerging role of athlete spouses in the social media age. Upton, by that point, had already established herself as one of the most recognizable models in the world, with two Sports Illustrated Swimsuit covers to her name and a career that spanned film, television, and high fashion. She could have remained silent on November 16, 2016. Instead, she chose to fight—not for herself, but for her husband, in the most public way possible.
The tweet has aged into something between a historical artifact and a cultural touchstone. It captures a specific moment when the boundaries between private disappointment and public performance were still being negotiated, when a spouse's anger could become national news within minutes, and when five points in a voting race could spark a conversation that would still be happening a decade later. Verlander has gone on to win two more Cy Young Awards since then, cementing his place as one of baseball's all-time greats. But that November night in 2016, when Kate Upton decided to speak, remains the moment people remember most vividly—not for what it said about baseball, but for what it revealed about loyalty, frustration, and the power of a single message sent in anger.
Citazioni salienti
I was doing MLB Network, they had the three finalists on the air, and as soon as it came out, she was firing.— Justin Verlander, on the podcast On Base with Mookie Betts
Hey @MLB I thought I was the only person allowed to f— @JustinVerlander ?! What 2 writers didn't have him on their ballot?— Kate Upton, in the viral tweet