Riley Gaines, a former NCAA swimming champion who barricaded herself in a classroom at San Francisco State University amid a violent scene of pro-transgender protesters, responded to a memo from Associate Student Chapter President Karina Zamora regarding the incident.

In a memo, Zamora said that the Gaines event, sponsored by Turning Point USA, “promoted discriminatory rhetoric against trans female athletes.” Zamora apologized to the students who were met by the police despite the chaos at the event.

“I, as president of the student association, condemn and oppose the hate speech and violent propaganda spread by TPUSA and Riley Gaines, as well as the confrontational behavior of campus officials,” the memorandum reads.

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“As president of the Associated Students and on behalf of the organization, I call on President Lynn Mahoney and her administration to take charge and hold a public forum to learn how harmful these tactics are to our student community. I urge campus administrators to take action. work with our students and the community to review and change current policies and practices to raise student voices and protect our student body, including being transparent in public exchange with the AS Board of Directors on how the university plans to move forward with a plausible course of action.”

There was no mention of an apology to Gaines in the memo. But the former NCAA swimming star reacted to the memo on her Twitter account.

“The police presence was excessive and inappropriate.” … “Violence Spread by Riley Gaines.”

“All to share my life experience of competing with men and why it is harmful not to play sex-protected sports… At the very least, we can agree that SFSU should be held accountable.”

Associated Students serve as student government at SFSU.

Gaines barricaded herself in a room at the university Thursday night after she said she was physically assaulted after speaking to students about saving women’s sports at a Turning Point USA and Leadership Institute event on campus.

Louis Barker, Riley’s husband, said he had brief conversations with her while she barricaded herself in the room for nearly three hours.

RILEY GAINES EXPLODES SF SF PARTICIPANT WHO CALLED PROTESTS CAUSE OF INCIDENT “PEACEFUL”

“She told me that she was hit several times by a guy in a dress. I was shaking. “She was under police protection and she was still run over by a man in a dress.”

Gaines shared footage she took of herself, which shows how the police kicked her out of the hall under a flurry of verbal attacks from detractors surrounding her.

“Prisoners run an orphanage at SFSU… I was ambushed and beaten twice by a man,” Gaines tweeted. “This is proof that women need spaces that are safe from sex. Reassures me even more that I am doing everything right. When they want you to be quiet, speak louder.”

Footage released to social media by the Golden Gate Xpress, the school’s newspaper, shows a small protest ahead of Gaines’ arrival at school on Thursday night.

Other footage from the online store shows how the protest grew and eventually became so chaotic that police led Gaines out of the room and down a hallway and barricaded him in a separate room.

While she was being moved to a safer location, protesters were videotaped chanting phrases like “go to hell home” and “transgender women are women” while displaying transgender flags on the walls of the school.

Former University of Kentucky swimmer Riley Gaines speaks during a rally on January 12, 2023 ahead of the NCAA convention in San Antonio. (AP Photo/Darren Abate)

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The publication also shared images showing some TPUSA employees being detained and taken out of the protest site. Chris Trudell, assistant dean of student affairs, reportedly tried to defuse the situation.

Kyle Morris of Fox News contributed to this report.

WITHPenser Haywood stood in the Cincinnati snow, freezing his ass. The stylish green and gold Seattle SuperSonics flared trousers he wore offered little protection from the cold wind, which could flare out the hips due to the wide bottom of the ankle. The short-sleeve top didn’t help much either. The 1970s had just begun, but Haywood’s career, as remarkable as it had been as a former ABA Rookie of the Year and MVP, was once again stalled. But for the future, a multiple participant in the All-Star Game, who later worked substance abuse problems while in the NBA with the Los Angeles Lakers, it wasn’t because of any personal or professional infraction that he stood up on a freezing night. No, he was in the process of changing the league forever. Thus, he was not even allowed to stand on the court of the Cincinnati Royals, opposite Tiny Archibald and Norm Van Lier, or go back to the locker room and get his street clothes. He was an “illegal player” and was banned from the game before it even started because he was just in court fighting a bigger battle.

“We have an illegal player on the court.” blah blah blahHeywood tells The Guardian, looking back on his first year in the NBA with the SuperSonics. “There was another injunction against me. So they threw me into the snow.”

Haywood, who in 1970 was the plaintiff in the now famous Haywood vs. National Basketball Association court case, was withdrawn from the fight against Cincinnati during the warm-up. It was something of a sad but common occurrence for a large 6’8″ man at the time. Start, stop, start stop. Play a few games and then pull. Why? Because he had the audacity to leave the collegiate ranks after just two years. Haywood, who grew up in tiny Silver City, Mississippi picking cotton for $2 a day, a life he likens to “slavery,” lived impoverished in a modest home with his family, sharing a bed with his brother. talked to his brother despite sharing a bed after a particularly controversial basketball game—and often endured humiliating experiences thanks to Jim Crow’s American South.

In high school, Haywood moved to Detroit, where he won the state championship in Pershing. After dominating his freshman year at Trinidad State College in Colorado, averaging 28.2 points and 22.1 rebounds, he made the 1968 U.S. Olympic Basketball Team, where he led the team to a gold medal over Russia in Mexico City—the same games. where track and field stars Tommy Smith and John Carlos raised their mighty rebellious fists. He was the youngest player ever to be on the Olympic basketball team and led it in scoring. He was crying in the stands. The next year, not far from where he went to high school at the University of Detroit recruited there by Michigan Gov. George Romney, Haywood led the nation in rebounding with 21.5 per game and averaging 32.1 points.

Back in Mississippi, his mother was a sharecropper in a region where blacks were often treated as subhuman. But under NCAA rules, Haywood was required to continue playing for free for two more seasons before turning pro. It was then that the upstart ABA stepped in, seeking to woo Haywood, and his life changed forever. Mike Storen and Heywood of the American Basketball Association came up with the “hard conditions” clause. At the time, the ABA and NBA competed (before the ABA folded a few years later). But one way the young ABA sought to compete with the larger NBA was to allow college players to join the ranks earlier than their older counterparts. If a player came out of poverty, as Heywood did, they were allowed to enter earlier. The ABA saw their chance with Haywood and he saw his to make a living. So he was called.

In his first year with Denver, Haywood led the league with 30 points, 19.5 rebounds and 45.3 minutes played in 84 games. That same season, he averaged 36.7 points and 19.8 rebounds in the playoffs, winning MVP and Rookie of the Year honors. But there was a problem. The ABA was financially unstable. He needed to play in the NBA if he wanted to make real money.

“I was paid $400,000 to play for six years or whatever,” Haywood says of his ABA contract. “And the rest of the money has been deferred and I won’t be able to get it until I’m 50 years old. Ringsby Truck Line“.

In 1968, the Seattle SuperSonics appeared. Two years later, when Haywood left the ABA in 1970, the Sonics needed a big name to fill the seats. So team owner Sam Shulman decided to try and get Haywood to Seattle. With the current ABA MVP on board, Shulman filed an antitrust lawsuit against the NBA to create an ABA-like hardship clause that would allow Haywood to play for his Sonics. The case went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, and during Haywood’s first year in the NBA, which included just 33 games played and an average of 20.6 points and 12 rebounds, he moved in and out of rosters, was sometimes called an illegal player, and even had to stand. in that snow in Cincinnati, he was banned from the NBA Royals’ gym. He was also told that his case would destroy college basketball and bring immature players into the league. The NBA positioned him as a man who takes jobs from veterans.

“[Sam said], “Are you ready for this? Are you ready for this?’ And I said I was born for this,” says Heywood. “I’m not in a cotton field.”

Haywood played in a number of games that first season in the NBA, then was banned from others due to various injunctions – all the while his case was heard in the country’s highest court. When he was banned, he trained with the Sonics ballboy, none other than Rick Welts, future head of the reigning champion Golden State Warriors. During their downtime, they traveled to nearby college campuses to talk to fellow students.

But when the Supreme Court ruled, Haywood won. Now he could enter the NBA forever, as well as other future difficulties. The court ruled that if men were allowed to fight in Vietnam, they could play professional basketball. Shulman remained with Heywood throughout, showing loyalty and paying nearly $2 million in legal fees. Now their efforts will pay off on solid wood. For the next four years, Haywood was an All-Star and NBA Game player for Seattle, averaging 25.4 points, 12.1 rebounds and playing nearly 300 games. The team later retired his jersey.

Haywood enjoyed spending time in the Emerald City. Socially, it was light years away from the Mississippi (region it helps to get well today). When he was there, he calls it “the most liberal city in the world” and “a utopia”. He played under Bill Russell, who years ago hosted the first unified children’s basketball camp in Mississippi, and coach-player Lenny Wilkens. He was there when the team made the playoffs for the first time. He remembers eating Crab Louie at the local 13 Coins restaurant. Thinking about all this, as Heywood sometimes does, especially now that he is working on new feature biopic about his life, he feels depressed. But while Haywood is leading a Forrest Gump-like story that has touched many moments in history, his victory over the NBA is where his impact is felt most. Though he rarely seems to receive credit for these accomplishments. Undergraduate players who made it big during the March Madness are considering their future, players fresh out of high school, and those who are known to be opinionated – Haywood’s name is probably not a quick one to say despite helping to make so much money. so much.

“It made [the NBA players] on salaries over $35 billion alone,” he says of his victory in court. “It generated over $50 billion in revenue for the owners because they were able to expand from 15 teams at the time. And grow.”

Haywood wonders if LeBron James would have overtaken Kareem Abdul-Jabbar as the top scorer in the NBA if he had to play in college four years before becoming a rookie. What would his career earnings be if he worked four years less? What about European players like Luka Doncic who don’t need NCAA experience or high school years to play in the league? Haywood’s legacy is still felt in the ranks of the NCAA. When the recent “Name, Image, and Likeness” rules were created to allow college gamblers to earn money, his victory in the Supreme Court was again mentioned. Now college athletes can earn a living by working on the field before making it to the NBA, MLB or NFL.

“That was my argument,” Haywood says. “I couldn’t get any help for my mother and my family who were picking $2 a day cotton in Silver City, Mississippi.”

But over the years, Haywood’s victory has inflicted several professional scars on him. Not only did he play the role of a villain in the early days of his career, it took him over a quarter of a century to be inducted into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame despite being an ABA MVP and a four-time NBA All-Star. It was only after Charles Barkley said the hall would not be complete without Heywood that he was finally welcomed in 2015. However, he was not included in the recent top 75 team in the league. In recent years, Haywood, a father of four daughters who has been married to fashion model Iman for ten years, struggle for pensioners in both the ABA and NBA to get medical benefits and pensions. He is the former chairman of the National Retired Basketball Association and still wins battles on behalf of the basketball team. Now he’s doing the same for retired WNBA players.

He prides himself on remembering previous generations. Similarly, Haywood, who lives in Las Vegas and recently hosted a basketball broadcast for March Madness college, hopes people remember his name and his legacy. Haywood, 73, jokes that he keeps himself in good shape — even by eating vegans — for the day he can hear a college star or young NBA standout thank him for the opportunity he helped create, for the door he helped open. Haywood, who recently published a detailed memoir, Spencer Heywood’s Rulehopes that he will forever be known by this very phrase.

“You can’t hide the story any longer,” Haywood says. “Otherwise, you will start living like Ron DeSantis.”

Still standing amid the rubble of the fallen juggernauts, Clark, 21, and Reese, 20, represent a star power unattainable in men’s football, where the most talented players leave after a year to enter the NBA draft, often announcing their retirement as soon as the tournament will end, just as many of us, casual viewers, will learn their names and biography. Maybe someday the WNBA will lower the age requirements – currently 22 or four years before high school graduation – and the most talented women will turn pro after one year of college, but right now their extended time on campus is blossoming. storylines and rivalries that heighten the sports drama.

Clarke was a fixture on SportsCenter’s highlights for at least three years, depleting shots so far from the basket that commentators compared her to Stephen Curry. She has been in the national spotlight for so long that even casual sports fans have witnessed her break records, joke in post-match interviews and hold back tears after crushing defeats. By the time she hit the court on Sunday for her first NCAA championship game, the Associated Press had already called her the best player in the countryand her expanding fan base touted her killer instinct and cold-blooded swagger.

In the quarterfinals, she faced Louisville star quarterback Haley Van Lit, a third-year player who led her team to the Final Four in 2022. Like Clarke, Van Lit has built a reputation for her passion for competition. She had been arguing with her Texas opponents during her previous game, and subsequently in line for a handshake, one of them seemed to tell her, “Call me pussy again, bitch, I’ll kick your ass.” Van Lit kept talking in the game against Iowa. After throwing a long shot, she stomped to the sideline and seemed to scream: “Get the hell out of my court, bitch.” Later, when Van Lit apparently continued to babble even after Iowa had a solid lead, Clark seemed to respond, “You lost by 15 points. Shut up”.

In the next round, against a historically dominant South Carolina team favored by all wins, Clarke waved dismissively at an opponent standing wide open at the three-point line, “as if to say, ‘I don’t give a damn, I’m not protecting you,'” an ESPN announcer said. described. In the second game in a row, she scored at least 40 points and then ended the victory with a “can’t you see me” hand gesture.

Playing at the highest level, leading the best team in the country, justifying the hype around her position, Clarke seemed to be on her way to the coronation. But in the championship game, she faced a fellow rebel who dreamed of her own dominance. Reese and Clark posed as irresistible opponents to each other, with contrasting styles and paths to perfection, forging a showdown full of intrigue, a high-octane Des Moines defender against a Baltimore forward.

While Clarke thrives in mid-air away from the rim, Reese operates underneath him, jostling amidst a tangle of limbs in trenches, slipping into tight pockets with precise leg movement, chasing lost balls with stubborn tenacity, breaking rebounding records with a bang for thoughtful position body. Her exceptional talents shine in subtler detail than the spectacular thrill of three-point shots. Basketball coaches often refer to rebounding as the “dirty work” of the game, invisible labor that is more likely to inspire awe among teammates watching a movie than the cheers of a stadium crowd.