Tyrese Haliburton, originally from Oshkosh, Wisconsin (which is just about an hour or so from Milwaukee), grew up in a state where the Brewers were a natural default MLB allegiance. (SI) So on paper, him being a Brewers fan made perfect sense. But somewhere along the line, something shifted. The turning point? The infamous “first pitch” invitation that got pulled. According to Haliburton, he was supposed to be invited to throw a ceremonial first pitch at a Brewers game in the 2024 season. But once the Pacers knocked out the Bucks in the playoffs, the Brewers apparently rescinded that invite. (SI) That, he has publicly claimed, was the moment he decided he was “no longer a Brewers fan.” “Baseball, I’m a free agent,” he said. (SI)
Now, whether the Brewers’ decision was punishing him or just a PR move, the optics are wild. Here’s a guy from Wisconsin, one might expect him to lean even harder into hometown loyalty. But instead, he felt snubbed. And once snubbed, he doubled down — or rather, triple down — by turning fandom into trolling. And so began the era of Tyrese Haliburton versus the Brewers.
When the MLB playoffs roll around, you’ve seen the signs. Haliburton has been photographed wearing a Chicago Cubs jersey during a Pacers preseason game at just the moment (or in the eve) when Milwaukee is playing Chicago in the NLDS. (Bleacher Report) That looked like a sly jab, a “I’m picking against my former team” move. And then, in more recent times, he surfaced wearing a Los Angeles Dodgers Shohei Ohtani jersey — aligned perfectly with the Dodgers vs. Brewers NLCS matchup. (Marca) It’s not subtle, but he leans into the theater of it. When the Brewers are in the postseason, Haliburton shows up representing one of their rivals.
To many, this is delightfully petty. Yes, petty. But sports love petty. It adds drama, and Haliburton is leaning in. The jersey swaps are more than fashion statements — they’re gestures, little proclamations of spite: “If I can’t be your fan, I’ll at least root against you.” It’s petty, but it makes everyone laugh (or groan) depending on your side.
Now, the rivalry angle adds layers. On the basketball side, the Pacers and Bucks have been at odds. Indiana has eliminated Milwaukee in multiple postseason runs in recent years. (SI) So Haliburton’s grudge against “Milwaukee sports” isn’t only limited to baseball — it bleeds over. And by assaulting Brewers fandom in public, he’s punching not just one franchise, but their entire sports identity. The Pacers-Bucks series are always intense, and Haliburton has openly embraced that antagonism. “We don’t like them, they don’t like us,” he once declared. (The Sun)
What’s fascinating is how Haliburton frames it: he doesn’t claim strong affinity for the Cubs or Dodgers as long‑term favorites, necessarily — he just picks them when they conflict with the Brewers. It’s not loyalty to the Cubs or Dodgers; it’s enmity toward the Brewers amplified. (Bleacher Report) In interviews and press moments, he makes no secret of it. And the timing is always impeccable — wear the Cubs jersey when the Brewers are playing Chicago, wear the Dodgers jersey when they’re facing LA. The symbolism is too clean to be accidental. (Marca)
This dynamic also tells us something about identity, loyalty, and how athletes navigate them. Tyrese is from Wisconsin, and in many ways, the Brewers should have had a lock on his baseball support. But there’s a weight to “welcoming” someone — and when Haliburton felt the Brewers unwelcomed him (by canceling his pitch invite), he flipped the script. If loyalty is conditional, then its withdrawal becomes theatrical. And now, in a bizarre twist, Haliburton can show up and shame them publicly. Everyone sees it — fans, media, opposing teams.
Brewers fans, of course, react. Some see it as betrayal, others see it as harmless trolling, and some bristle — how dare he turn on them? But you can’t unsee it. The spectacle exists now. Even in local Wisconsin coverage, it’s become shorthand for “Tyrese vs. Milwaukee.” (SI) And when the Brewers are involved in postseason drama, Haliburton seizes it. He’s using his off‑court presence to troll them, especially during the baseball playoffs. (SB Nation)
Is it immature? Probably. Is it hilarious? Absolutely. It’s this delightful blend of sports, ego, and social theater. And because Haliburton is a high‑profile NBA star, his antics get magnified. A jersey he wears on a sideline means more than just style — it can spark memes, Twitter threads, bar arguments, and debate among Wisconsin sports fans.
Interestingly, though, Haliburton has drawn a boundary. He still claims support for the Packers (football) and the Colts (in certain contexts). (SB Nation) So he isn’t rejecting every Wisconsin team, just the Brewers baseball team. The beef is specific. The scope is narrow. But he pushes it hard.
The story of Haliburton’s “hate” for the Brewers is also a storytelling masterclass. You have a hometown kid, once aligned with the local team, then betrayed (or feeling betrayed), then turning that into a long‑term public feud with performative elements (jerseys, timing, troll energy). Sports fans — especially in the age of social media — love narratives. Rivalries are no longer confined to the playing field; they live in jerseys, in social media, in symbolic gestures.
At the same time, it’s a bit of a cautionary tale about expectations. Maybe the Brewers had legitimate operational reasons for retracting the first pitch invitation (logistics, scheduling, PR concerns). Maybe they never intended to hurt Haliburton. But once it got framed as a snub, it became fuel. Perception matters. And athletes like Haliburton know how to lean into perception. Once you give someone the narrative hook, they can wring more drama out of it.
So now, every time the Brew Crew makes a playoff run, you can count on at least one Haliburton jersey moment. It’s the sports equivalent of a longtime friend turning foe and piggybacking on every chance to show their face at your worst moments. It’s petty, but it’s artful. It keeps Milwaukee on edge. It reminds fans: he was your kid, once, but you rejected him. And now he’s the costumed antagonist in your baseball story.
At the end of the day, this is a trivial feud wrapped in absurdity, flavored by the megaphone of modern sports media. But for fans — especially those in Wisconsin — it carries emotional weight. It’s personal. And whether you cheer for him or boo him, you’re paying attention. That’s the victory for Haliburton’s little war with the Brewers: he made them care. He forced the hometown team to have to reckon with him. And he did it with jerseys and smirks.
