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In a League of Her Own

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by Andrea Lena DiMaggio

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A January in the near future...Staten Island Yankee Stadium Press area. A man steps to the podium and begins to speak...

“Excuse me, may I have your attention. I will make a brief statement on behalf of the New York Yankees and their affiliate, the Staten Island Yankees before I introduce our newest player. “

The general manager was only a bit nervous. Years of speculation about his own job had given way to tangible proof of his own talents as the team he had put together won several World Series as well as the American League title on numerous occasions. This press conference would prove to be a bit more daunting than any other. He placed an index card on the podium and began.

“The New York Yankees are all about excellence. From the establishment of the team until now, we have striven to provide a quality product that the fans can enjoy. We believe we have done that beyond even our own expectations. But now, it’s time to move ahead. How can we improve on our record; our example of the best franchise in the history of sports; the team that produced Gehrig and DiMaggio, Berra and Mantle and Rizzuto, that developed Ruffing and Ford and Stottlemyre and Guidry? And the most recent generation…Mariano Rivera, Jorge Posada and future hall of famer Derek Jeter.

How does a team improve on greatness derived from such as those players? The answer is to move into the twenty-first century in a way that acknowledges not only the future, but acknowledges a lack that has been glaringly obvious. The player I am about to introduce will fill that lack in a way that no other has or ever will as a beginning step. It is with pride that I introduce someone from our own organization; labeled ‘can’t miss’ when first signed out of high school. Now, in the midst of a very big challenge and change, this player hopes to see success, as do we; new and exciting. After some brief remarks, we will take questions. Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I am proud to introduce Ms. Nikki Petrone.”

The crowded room got quiet as a fairly tall figure standing to the side of him stepped forward to the microphone.

“Good afternoon” A few murmurs and the sound of cameras filled the air as Nikki Petrone smiled.

“I’ve known many of you since I was little. My grandfather worked as one of the groundskeepers at Yankee Stadium and my own Uncle Peter labored valiantly in the minor league system as an infielder.”

More murmurs and a few choice benign expletives interrupted the woman. She paused long enough to take a sip of bottled water before continuing.

“Almost all of you know me by my birth name, and I consider you to be friends; some of whom I’ve known since I was in high school. I suppose I did look a lot different back then, but who here still looks like their yearbook photo.” She paused again at the irony and the laughter of many of the writers and on-air folks.

“I am, first and foremost, the same person you knew when I first started out playing in the farm system. I imagine that the words, ‘Can’t MISS,’ gain new meaning…..” More laughter.

“But from the time I was seven, I knew I was different. I knew that things didn’t fit. I wanted to make my family proud, and I tried really hard to fill a role that my family expected of me, and for the most part I did. But being who I was happened to be more than playing baseball. I’m not going to bore you with technical stuff that you can find. Much of the information you may seek is on the handout that you received. What I want to talk about is who I am…in relation to my family and friends. And my career and future role for the New York Yankees.” She paused, not for any anticipated response, but for the nervousness and fear in her heart.

“I was born Vito Anthony Petrone in 1983, but in reality, I’ve been Nicole Petrone since I sat comfortably in my mother’s womb. Three years ago, I began my final transition to the person you see before you, culminating in Gender Recognition Surgery last November, where the person you knew on the inside of me received the form you see before you.” A few gasps and several less benign expletives filled the air as she took another sip of water.

“Please understand…this is no ‘grand’ experiment. It’s not for anyone but me that I chose to remain with this organization. There are certainly no guarantees. I thank the Yankees for allowing me to be just like any other journeyman minor-leaguer, although I expect that title of journeyman might need to be adjusted, even as it reflects what is going on here.”

“To be transsexual is to be on a journey, even if I don’t like labels. I’ve worn many of them since I began playing baseball. Third baseman comes to mind. A particular season I was ‘hero;’ often times ‘goat’ or choke-artist comes to mind. ‘Washed-up’ happily went away a couple of seasons ago when Staten Island won their championship. I have no delusions about taking over third from anyone above me in this organization, but I wanted the chance to prove that no one else can just take away my position for Staten Island. I expect the next time I do go to the big leagues across the river there, it will be as a spectator just like almost everyone else here." She paused to take another sip of water, more out of nervousness than thirst.

"I am not planning on being known as the first transsexual to play in the Major Leagues. It would be an honor to play as the first woman, but I don’t anticipate that happening either. All I expect, and this is something the organization agrees with me, is that I be given a chance like any other player who has ever stepped between the lines; an even chance to play ball. I’ll take a few questions.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Isn’t this just one more way for the Yankees to gain the limelight? They finished last season third in their division, and even Staten Island struggled to stay out of last place.”

“No…this isn’t a stunt. It’s my life and the Yankees are brave enough to risk being misunderstood; pure and simple, I’m going to go to Florida like everybody else next month and try out. That’s all.”

“Would you compare yourself to Jackie Robinson…sorta breaking the sex barrier?” The man in the middle of the crowd seemed a bit snide.”

“Let me be plain about this.” She bit her tongue in a rare show of anger; one that hardly was noticed amidst the wonder that seemed to permeate the room.

“I will never claim to be anything or anyone other than what and who I am. I’m a woman…I’m not an experiment and I’m not out to set any records or examples. If I can be a decent player and a person of character, I will be happy. Although I have endured my share of taunts and remarks, I will never approach the level of hatred that he endured. People now may be misinformed, and maybe ignorant. I’m not saying there aren’t haters out there who would be happy to see me fail; my e-mails and letters already tell me that. But back then, almost all of what he received was hatred, pure and simple. I am not fit to even untie his shoes, if may borrow a metaphor from my favorite book.

“So you’re not breaking the sex barrier? Isn’t that a naive view?”

“Not at all. Whatever I achieve may break some ceiling somewhere, but really, I’m just a veteran trying to make the team one more time before I retire. My medical people assure me that I’m in great health, and I hit two-seventy-five in last year. So it’s just another Spring.” Several hands shot up and she paused before holding her hands up.

“It’s not sex. Gender….the changes you see before you are outside; the real gender is in the heart and mind, and for nearly all of us, the mind and the body match. Mine didn’t, and I took steps to make things line up.” Murmurs.

“I’m sorry to disappoint a few of you, but that’s just the way it is, no matter what you may have heard to the contrary. And while I won’t be hiding my personal life, neither will it ever be a topic of discussion. That’s all I will say on the matter.” Heads looked around, their attention focused on the group of people standing behind her. A tall woman stood behind and off to the side, and she was smiling.

Hands shot up, seeking her attention but she smiled and didn’t speak until the noise grew only a bit softer.

“I just want to conclude by thanking the New York Yankees parent organization and the Staten Island Yankees for this opportunity. To even play in the organization is a wonderful thrill of a lifetime, and I’m grateful. And I’d like to thank my family for supporting me. This has been a very challenging two years for all of us, and I’m so glad I have them by my side. I thank them and I thank you. Good afternoon.” she said as she looked out over the group of reporters one last time until she spotted two figures standing in the back. A boy of about thirteen and a girl of about twelve. Both wore Yankees caps and jerseys.

And Carlo stayed home…because he’s a dog.