You know what I find sickening? Not just the behavior of someone who should have been a healer, but the fact that this man was allowed to walk through those halls — through those locker rooms — for over a decade while people in power chose to look the other way. And not just once or twice. No, they ignored it for years. Years! You think about that. The amount of time these athletes were subjected to this man’s hands on their bodies under the guise of medical care, while the administration decided it wasn’t worth looking into. That is not oversight. That is negligence. That is an affront to everything we stand for in sports.
Let me say this clearly: Robert Murphy was a sports medicine director at North Carolina State University. His job should have been to treat injuries and help athletes recover. Instead, he used that position of trust — that sacred, goddamn position — to engage in behavior that was “unwelcome,” “sexual,” and “pervasive” according to Title IX investigators. That’s not a whisper. That’s not a rumor. That is a full-blown, documented investigation by the university itself. And yet, the school waited until 2022 — nearly eight years after concerns were first raised — before launching even an internal probe.
I have watched this league for years. I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the absolute worst of what happens when people forget that athletes are human beings, not just bodies to be trained or numbers on a scoreboard. But this? This is something else entirely. This is not just about one man’s misconduct — it’s about the systemic failure of an institution to protect its students.
Let me be clear: This isn’t just about what Robert Murphy did. It’s about who knew and didn’t act. It’s about the senior athletic department official who told investigators that concerns about Murphy’s behavior had been raised as early as 2014 or 2015. That’s not a typo — it’s 2015, folks. Over seven years before the Title IX investigation began. And yet, nothing was done. No intervention. No disciplinary action. Nothing.
And let me say this about Kelly Findley, the former men’s soccer coach who reported his concerns as early as 2016 — that’s not a stretch or a vague recollection. That is a documented report made to university administrators. And still, nothing happened. Not even then. You know what that says? It says that someone in power — someone with the authority to act — chose to ignore it because they didn’t want to rock the boat. Because they thought it wasn’t their problem. Or worse, they thought it was worth the risk.
And let’s not forget Ben Locke, the former men’s soccer player who filed a report with the NC State University Police Department in January 2022 that set this whole thing into motion. That’s when the Title IX investigation began. But here’s the kicker: Locke and 30 other former student-athletes have since filed a civil lawsuit against Murphy and eight others, claiming the school repeatedly ignored warnings about his behavior starting as early as 2012.
That’s not just negligence — that’s malice. That is institutionalized indifference to the safety and well-being of its athletes. You think about what that means for those young men who were forced to go through this under the guise of medical care. They trusted Murphy. They thought he was there to help them get better, to take care of their bodies so they could play again. Instead, they were subjected to something far more insidious.
And now, after all these years — after all these warnings — we’re left with a situation where the school is trying to distance itself from this mess by saying, “The health and safety of students is paramount.” But that’s just words. That’s lip service. Because if they really believed that, they would have acted long before 2022.
You know what makes me furious? The fact that Murphy was allowed to stay in his position for over a decade while people who should have known better chose to ignore it. And not just ignore it — they let it continue. They let him treat athletes while their hands were on those young men’s bodies, and no one said a word.
And then there’s the law that North Carolina passed in 2018 making sexual contact under the guise of medical care a felony offense. That is a response to this kind of behavior — the kind that should have been stopped years ago. But it wasn’t. It took an investigation, a lawsuit, and now a criminal probe for someone to finally step up and say: “This man’s actions were not just wrong — they were illegal.”
But here’s what I want to know: Why did it take so long? Why did it take nearly eight years from when concerns were first raised to when the school decided to do anything about it?
And let me be clear: This isn’t just about one person. It’s about a culture within an athletic department that allowed this to happen because they didn’t want to face the consequences. They didn’t want to deal with the fallout, the media scrutiny, or the potential legal ramifications. So they chose to ignore it.
That is not leadership. That is cowardice.
And now we’re left with a situation where Murphy’s lawyer is arguing that the civil claims against him are beyond the statute of limitations. But let me tell you something: If this was truly about medical care, then the statute of limitations would have been irrelevant. Because what Murphy did wasn’t just professional misconduct — it was a violation of trust, and more importantly, it was a violation of law.
And now, as the county district attorney’s office conducts an ongoing criminal investigation into Murphy, we’re left wondering: How many other athletes went through this? How many others were subjected to this kind of behavior while the administration chose to look the other way?
I want to talk about legacy. I want to talk about what it means to be a professional — not just in sports, but in life. You don’t get to walk away from something like this and say, “Well, that’s just how it is.” That is not acceptable. That is not the standard we should tolerate.
And let me say this: The people who allowed this to happen — whether they knew or didn’t know — are complicit in what took place. Because if you’re in a position of power and you have reason to believe something is wrong, and you do nothing about it, then you are just as guilty as the person doing the wrongdoing.
I want to be clear: This is not just about one man’s actions. It’s about the entire system that allowed those actions to happen — the system that failed these athletes because they didn’t have the courage to act when they should have.
And now, we’re left with a lawsuit, a criminal investigation, and a Title IX probe that will likely uncover even more than what has already come out. But I don’t care how many redactions there are in those documents — the truth is clear: Robert Murphy used his position of power to commit sexual misconduct on athletes who trusted him.
And if you think this only happened at North Carolina State, then you’re delusional. This kind of behavior doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It happens across college athletics, and it’s time we stop pretending like it’s not a problem.
So let me say this to the people in power — to the athletic directors, the university presidents, the administrators who sit on these boards: You are responsible for the safety of your athletes. If you don’t act when you should, then you are complicit in what happens next.
And I want to speak directly to the athletes who went through this: You are not alone. Your voices matter. And if someone is using their position to exploit you — whether it’s a coach, a trainer, or any other figure of authority — you have every right to report them. Because no one should be subjected to that kind of abuse under the guise of care.
This isn’t just about what happened at North Carolina State. It’s about how we treat athletes in this country. How we value their safety over our own comfort. How we choose to ignore problems because they’re inconvenient or uncomfortable to face.
But I don’t believe for a second that those who allowed this to happen didn’t know what was going on. They had the information, and they chose not to act. That’s not leadership — that’s failure.
And I want to leave you with this: If we don’t hold institutions accountable when they fail their athletes, then what’s the point of having them in the first place? What’s the point of spending millions on programs if those same programs are allowed to take advantage of the very people who make them successful?
We can’t allow this to be swept under the rug. We can’t let it be a story that disappears after a few headlines and a lawsuit or two.
Because what happened at North Carolina State is not just about one man. It’s about a system that failed its athletes — and it’s time we start fixing it.
