MILWAUKEE (KABC) — In a jaw-dropping twist that’s got the nation raging from the bleachers to the boardrooms, a die-hard Milwaukee Brewers fan has been unceremoniously booted from her job—and her charity throne—after a viral video captured her hurling the gut-punch line “let’s call ICE” at a Latino Los Angeles Dodgers supporter smack in the middle of Game 2 of the 2025 National League Championship Series. But hold onto your foam fingers: as the Dodgers steamroll ahead with a commanding 3-0 series lead after crushing the Brewers 6-2 in Game 3 on Thursday night, the backlash against Shannon Kobylarczyk isn’t just boiling over—it’s erupting into a full-blown firestorm of death threats, doxxing nightmares, and a mercy plea from the very veteran she targeted. Welcome to America’s pastime, where trash talk turns toxic faster than a seventh-inning stretch gone wrong.
Picture this: American Family Field, October 15, 2025. The Brewers are down 5-1 in a must-win home game, the crowd’s electric with that desperate playoff buzz, and Ricardo Fosado—a proud U.S. Navy veteran of Mexican heritage who’s bled for this country in two wars—is in town from L.A. on a business trip, soaking up the rivalry like a true blue Dodger die-hard. Fosado, phone in hand, starts the harmless fan joust that’s as old as Cracker Jack: “Why is everybody so quiet? Come on, Milwaukee, where’s the fight?” He’s grinning, egging on the sea of yellow-and-blue jerseys, turning a lopsided loss into prime ribbing material. The Dodgers faithful are loving it; the scoreboard’s loving it even more as L.A. piles on the runs.
Enter Shannon Kobylarczyk, a 42-year-old Milwaukee local decked out in Brewers gear, her face flushed from what looked like one too many post-loss brews. She’s not here for the banter. As Fosado keeps the chirps coming, she wheels around, eyes blazing, and drops the bomb: “You know what? Let’s call ICE.” The words hang in the humid stadium air like a foul ball nobody caught. Immigration and Customs Enforcement? At a baseball game? To a guy waving an American flag in his soul? Fosado, unfazed and filming the whole meltdown on his phone, fires back with the mic-drop truth: “Call ICE, call ICE! I’m a U.S. citizen, war veteran, baby girl. ICE ain’t doing nothing to me. Good luck with that, f—ing idiot.” The crowd around them freezes—some chuckle nervously, others gasp—as Kobylarczyk, not done yet, lunges forward and swipes wildly at his phone, nearly knocking it flying. It’s peak playoff pettiness, captured in crystal-clear 4K for the world to devour.
By the bottom of the ninth, the clip explodes across social media like a grand slam gone viral. X (formerly Twitter) lights up with over 2 million views in hours, hashtags like #BrewersKaren and #CallICEFail trending harder than Shohei Ohtani’s moonshot homers. TikTok turns it into a remix frenzy, with users overlaying dramatic soundtracks and captions screaming “Racist rant at the ballpark? Banned for life!” Instagram Reels flood with memes: Kobylarczyk’s snarl photoshopped onto the Grim Reaper, scythe labeled “Deport My Ego.” Reddit’s r/baseball subreddit crashes under the weight of 15,000 upvotes and comment threads dissecting every slur, every swipe. “This is why we can’t have nice rivalries,” one user laments. Another, a self-proclaimed Brewers apologist, counters: “Trash talk’s part of the game—until it’s straight-up xenophobic garbage.” The outrage crosses team lines; even die-hard Cubs fans pile on, tweeting, “As if Milwaukee needed more reasons to be the Wrigleyville of hate.”
The hammer drops faster than a curveball. ManpowerGroup, the Milwaukee staffing giant where Kobylarczyk worked as an attorney, issues a blistering statement by dawn: “As soon as we became aware of this video, the individual was placed on immediate leave and we began an investigation. As a result of this process, the employee is no longer with the organization. We remain committed to maintaining a culture grounded in respect, integrity, and accountability.” Fired. Just like that. No severance, no second inning—just out. Kobylarczyk, who’d poured her heart into community work, also tenders her resignation from the Make-A-Wish Wisconsin board that same morning. The charity, which grants dreams to critically ill kids, confirms it in a terse email: “We value inclusivity above all, and this incident doesn’t align with our mission.” From corporate ladder-climber to pariah in 24 hours. Her LinkedIn profile vanishes; her Facebook goes private amid a torrent of friend requests—from strangers calling for her head.
But the real gut-wrencher? The Brewers organization, usually all about that “heart and hustle” vibe, slaps lifetime bans on both fans. “We do not tolerate behavior that undermines the spirit of the game,” reads their October 16 statement. Kobylarczyk’s persona non grata at American Family Field forever. Fosado? Ejected that night for “disorderly conduct and public intoxication,” per stadium security—after she snitched on him for the swearing. He tells TMZ Sports he doesn’t harbor grudges: “I had a blast otherwise. The game’s the game.” And in a plot twist that humanizes the whole mess, Fosado goes full olive branch to WDJT-TV: “I don’t think she should have got fired. It’s my opinion. Everybody deserves second chances. We all make mistakes. Nobody got hurt besides feelings and egos. We live another day.” A veteran, targeted with deportation jabs, advocating for his attacker’s redemption? That’s the kind of plot reversal Hollywood wishes it could script.
Yet as the NLCS shifts to Dodger Stadium—where L.A. could clinch a World Series ticket as early as Saturday—the fallout spirals into something darker. Kobylarczyk’s home address leaks online, courtesy of vengeful keyboard warriors. Death threats flood her inbox: “Deport yourself, bigot,” one reads. “Hope ICE raids your family next.” Her unlisted phone number? Doxxed by noon Friday, leading to harassing calls that force her into hiding at a friend’s place. Local Milwaukee activists rally outside ManpowerGroup’s HQ, chanting “No hate at the plate!” while a counter-protest of free-speech hardliners waves signs reading “Words Aren’t Violence—Cancel Culture Is.” Pundits on Fox News decry it as “woke overreach,” while MSNBC calls it “a stark reminder of everyday racism in sports.” Even MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred weighs in during a pre-Game 4 presser: “Fan passion is what makes baseball magic, but threats like this? Unacceptable. We’re reviewing protocols.”
Kobylarczyk, radio silent so far, is reportedly consulting lawyers amid whispers of a defamation suit against Fosado for “baiting” her. Fosado, ever the cool head, shrugs it off in a Salon interview: “I feel bad for her. War taught me grudges kill slower than bullets.” As the Dodgers eye their fifth Fall Classic in a decade, this scandal exposes the ugly underbelly of America’s favorite distraction: where beer-soaked cheers mask deep-seated divides, and one offhand slur can shatter lives. Is it karma, cancel culture, or just colossal bad judgment? One thing’s clear—the 2025 playoffs won’t be remembered for box scores alone. They’ll be scarred by a single, searing “call ICE” that echoed far beyond the foul poles.
