4t Giants WR Malik Nabers issued a statement following the news of Kyren Lacy’s innocence, calling out all the sports media that wrongfully bashed his former LSU teammate and best friend
“Bashed my dawg name! Shi crazy. Dey put u on every news channel and sports network wen u “allegedly” charged with sum but when da truth comes out mfs dnt say nun and go in silence.”
In the raw, unfiltered arena of social media, New York Giants wide receiver Malik Nabers has never shied from speaking his truth. On October 4, 2025, the 22-year-old LSU alum unleashed a blistering Instagram post that cut deeper than any sideline route, lambasting the sports media and justice system for what he sees as a deadly double standard in the case of his late best friend and former Tigers teammate, Kyren Lacy. With Lacy exonerated posthumously by explosive new evidence, Nabers’ words—”Bashed my dawg name! Shi crazy. Dey put u on every news channel and sports network wen u ‘allegedly’ charged with sum but when da truth comes out mfs dnt say nun and go in silence”—have ignited a firestorm, amassing over 1.2 million views and sparking calls for accountability across the NFL and beyond.
The heartbreak traces back to March 2025, when Lacy, a projected first-round pick in the upcoming NFL Draft, was thrust into nightmare territory. Arrested for negligent homicide after a Baton Rouge car crash that claimed the life of 28-year-old Brianna Bourgeois, the 23-year-old wideout faced a media blitz painting him as reckless: Outlets from ESPN to local affiliates replayed dashcam snippets, speculated on his “party-boy” persona, and speculated on derailed dreams. Lacy, who had torched SEC defenses for 1,325 yards and 12 touchdowns in 2024, posted $250,000 bail but spiraled under the scrutiny. On April 12—just 24 hours before a grand jury hearing—he took his own life in his off-campus apartment, leaving behind a note decrying the “lies that broke me.” The news stunned the college football world, with LSU issuing a heartfelt tribute and Nabers, drafted sixth overall by the Giants months earlier, attending the funeral in silent devastation.
Fast-forward to October 3: Lacy’s attorney, Billy Gibbens, dropped a bombshell during a Baton Rouge presser—a 90-second traffic cam video contradicting the initial narrative. It showed Bourgeois’s vehicle running a red light at 72 mph, slamming into Lacy’s parked car with no fault on his end. “This proves Kyren was innocent,” Gibbens declared, vowing to clear his client’s name fully. The East Baton Rouge Parish DA’s office confirmed the charges would be dismissed posthumously, but the damage was irreversible.
Nabers, who’s tallied 28 catches for 312 yards in a breakout Giants rookie season, couldn’t stay silent. His post, a carousel of Lacy’s highlights interspersed with screenshots of inflammatory headlines, seethed with betrayal. “They talked negative on Sean Taylor’s death. When I first heard this I knew Kyren Lacy was innocent, I said it,” he added in a follow-up story, invoking the late Redskins safety’s own media martyrdom. The AAVE-infused rant resonated, drawing 45,000 likes and shares from peers like Ja’Marr Chase (“Facts, bro. Media gotta own this”) and even non-athletes amplifying #JusticeForKyren.
The backlash has been swift and bipartisan. ESPN’s Stephen A. Smith, who once quipped Lacy’s “off-field antics” doomed his draft stock, issued a mea culpa on First Take, admitting, “We rushed the story—lessons learned.” But critics like Deadspin argue it’s too little, too late, pointing to a pattern: Black athletes like Deshaun Watson or Antonio Brown, vilified pre-verdict, rarely get equal airtime in redemption. Nabers’ call-out echoes broader frustrations—racial bias in coverage, the “innocent until proven guilty” hypocrisy, and mental health’s deadly underbelly in sports.
For Nabers, it’s personal: Lacy was more than a teammate; he was family, the duo inseparable from LSU dorms to draft dreams. As the Giants prep for Monday Night Football against the Steelers, Nabers wears Lacy’s No. 2 wristband, channeling grief into gridiron fire. “This ain’t just for me,” he told reporters post-practice. “It’s for every dawg they drag through the mud.” In a league worth billions, his voice demands reckoning—not silence, but amplification. Kyren’s truth, finally free, deserves no less.
