Michael Fletcher is a senior writer with ESPN’s enterprise and investigative team. Before that, he wrote for ESPN’s The Undefeated, focusing on politics, criminal justice and social issues. He spent 21 years at The Washington Post, where his beats included the national economy, the White House and race relations.
Retired NFL star Michael Oher, whose supposed adoption out of grinding poverty by a wealthy, white family was immortalized in the 2009 movie “The Blind Side,” petitioned a Tennessee court Monday with allegations that a central element of the story was a lie concocted by the family to enrich itself at his expense.
The 14-page petition, filed in Shelby County, Tennessee, probate court, alleges that Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy, who took Oher into their home as a high school student, never adopted him. Instead, less than three months after Oher turned 18 in 2004, the petition says, the couple tricked him into signing a document making them his conservators, which gave them legal authority to make business deals in his name.
The petition further alleges that the Tuohys used their power as conservators to strike a deal that paid them and their two birth children millions of dollars in royalties from an Oscar-winning film that earned more than $300 million, while Oher got nothing for a story “that would not have existed without him.” In the years since, the Tuohys have continued calling the 37-year-old Oher their adopted son and have used that assertion to promote their foundation as well as Leigh Anne Tuohy’s work as an author and motivational speaker.
“The lie of Michael’s adoption is one upon which Co-Conservators Leigh Anne Tuohy and Sean Tuohy have enriched themselves at the expense of their Ward, the undersigned Michael Oher,” the legal filing says. “Michael Oher discovered this lie to his chagrin and embarrassment in February of 2023, when he learned that the Conservatorship to which he consented on the basis that doing so would make him a member of the Tuohy family, in fact provided him no familial relationship with the Tuohys.”
The Tuohy family did not immediately return phone calls Monday to numbers listed for them.
Oher’s petition asks the court to end the Tuohys’ conservatorship and to issue an injunction barring them from using his name and likeness. It also seeks a full accounting of the money the Tuohys earned using Oher’s name, and to have the couple pay him his fair share of profits, as well as unspecified compensatory and punitive damages.
“Since at least August of 2004, Conservators have allowed Michael, specifically, and the public, generally, to believe that Conservators adopted Michael and have used that untruth to gain financial advantages for themselves and the foundations which they own or which they exercise control,” the petition says. “All monies made in said manner should in all conscience and equity be disgorged and paid over to the said ward, Michael Oher.”
Oher was a rising high school senior when he signed the conservatorship papers, and he has written that the Tuohys told him that there was essentially no difference between adoption and conservatorship. “They explained to me that it means pretty much the exact same thing as ‘adoptive parents,’ but that the laws were just written in a way that took my age into account,” Oher wrote in his 2011 best-selling memoir “I Beat the Odds.”
But there are some important legal distinctions. If Oher had been adopted by the Tuohys, he would have been a legal member of their family, and he would have retained power to handle his own financial affairs. Under the conservatorship, Oher surrendered that authority to the Tuohys, even though he was a legal adult with no known physical or psychological disabilities.
The petition alleges that the Tuohys began negotiating a movie deal about their relationship with Oher shortly after the 2006 release of the book “The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game,” which chronicled the story.
According to the legal filing, the movie paid the Tuohys and their two birth children each $225,000, plus 2.5% of the film’s “defined net proceeds.” The movie became a critically acclaimed blockbuster, reportedly grossing more than $300 million at the box office, and tens of millions of dollars more in home video sales. The film received an Oscar nomination for Best Picture, and Sandra Bullock won a Best Actress trophy for her portrayal of Leigh Anne Tuohy. While the deal allowed the Tuohys to profit from the film, the petition alleges, a separate 2007 contract purportedly signed by Oher appears to “give away” to 20th Century Fox Studios the life rights to his story “without any payment whatsoever.” The filing says Oher has no recollection of signing that contract, and even if he did, no one explained its implications to him.
The deal lists all four Tuohy family members as having the same representative at Creative Artists Agency, the petition says. But Oher’s agent, who would receive movie contract and payment notices, is listed as Debra Branan, a close family friend of the Tuohys and the same lawyer who filed the 2004 conservatorship petition, the petition alleges. Branan did not return a call to her law office on Monday.
In the past, the Tuohys have denied making much money from the movie, saying they received a flat fee for the story and did not reap any of the movie’s profits. And what they did earn, they added, was shared with Oher.
“We divided it five ways,” the Tuohys wrote in their 2010 book, “In a Heartbeat: Sharing the Power of Cheerful Giving.”
Oher’s court petition says he never received any money from the movie, even though he long suspected that others were profiting, according to his attorney, J. Gerard Stranch IV. Whenever Oher asked questions, he did not get straight answers, his attorney said.
And since the film’s success coincided with the start of his lucrative NFL career in 2009, Oher did not take the time to fully investigate the deal until after he retired in 2016, Stranch said. Oher eventually hired a lawyer who helped him uncover the details surrounding the movie deal and his legal connection to the people he believed were his adoptive parents. His lawyer unearthed the conservatorship document in February, and Oher came to the painful realization that the Tuohys had not adopted him.
“Mike didn’t grow up with a stable family life,” Stranch said. “When the Tuohy family told Mike they loved him and wanted to adopt him, it filled a void that had been with him his entire life. Discovering that he wasn’t actually adopted devastated Mike and wounded him deeply.”
The petition marks a sharp break in what had been an inspiring, if unsettlingly stereotypical, feel-good story. As the movie portrayed the story, the Tuohys adopted Oher, a poor, virtually homeless and academically challenged Black teenager. They made Oher part of a functional family for the first time. They helped him catch up in school, taught him the basics of football and how to harness his athleticism, putting him on the road to sports stardom.
The truth, however, was more complicated.
Oher certainly led a hard-knock life growing up. But he also had the smarts, the pluck and plenty of help from the Tuohys and others to rise above his circumstances.
Oher was one of 12 children born to his mother, who struggled with drug addiction. Before his 11th birthday, Oher was placed into foster care, where he bounced around numerous homes, and at times lived on the streets. Although he was a capable student, he attended 11 schools in nine years, and repeated both the first and second grades, leaving him behind academically.
His fortunes changed after a friend’s father, impressed with Oher’s inner drive and focus, introduced him to the principal of a private Christian school in a prosperous Memphis neighborhood. Oher began attending the school in 10th grade, even as his home life remained chaotic. He was a sports prodigy, excelling in track and field, basketball and football, a game he had studied for years.
He began playing football for his new school in 11th grade, quickly establishing himself as one of the nation’s top offensive linemen, and college scholarship offers poured in from big-time football programs across the country.
Because of his unstable housing situation, Oher frequently stayed over at the homes of his classmates, including the Tuohys, whose children attended the school. The petition says that the Tuohys forged a closer relationship with him once Oher’s athletic prowess drew wide attention. They invited him to spend more nights at their spacious Memphis home and took him shopping. Eventually, they asked Oher to move in. They encouraged him to address them as “mom” and “dad,” and said they planned to adopt him, the filing says.
Oher was delighted with all that at the time, his lawyer said, and he fully trusted the Tuohys.
Oher went on to play college football at the University of Mississippi, the Tuohys’ alma mater. He was a two-time All-American and a first-round pick of the Baltimore Ravens in 2009.
After the success of “The Blind Side,” however, suspicion slowly eclipsed Oher’s trust of the Tuohys, his lawyer said.
“Mike’s relationship with the Tuohy family started to decline when he discovered that he was portrayed in the movie as unintelligent,” Stranch said. “Their relationship continued to deteriorate as he learned that he was the only member of the family not receiving royalty checks from the movie, and it was permanently fractured when he realized he wasn’t adopted and a part of the family.”
For years, Oher has chafed at how “The Blind Side” depicted him, saying it hurt his football career and clouded how people view him. He has said that based on the film, some NFL decision-makers assumed he was mentally slow or lacked leadership skills.
“People look at me, and they take things away from me because of a movie,” Oher told ESPN in 2015. “They don’t really see the skills and the kind of player I am.”
For their part, the Tuohys agreed that Oher always had what it took to succeed. “If there is a fundamental misapprehension about Michael, it’s that he needed saving,” the Tuohys wrote in their book. “We discovered that underneath his shyness, his foot shuffling, and his head ducking, he had a tremendous will to determine the course of his own life.”
For years, Oher has said, he was content to live with the myth created by the movie, reasoning that its inspirational message outweighed the pain inflicted by what he saw as its inaccurate portrayal of his life. But that has changed.
“There has been so much created from The Blind Side that I am grateful for, which is why you might find it as a shock that the experience surrounding the story has also been a large source of some of my deepest hurt and pain over the past 14 years,” Oher wrote in his book “When Your Back’s Against the Wall,” released last week.
“Beyond the details of the deal, the politics, and the money behind the book and movie, it was the principle of the choices some people made that cut me the deepest.”
Dan Wetzel is a senior writer focused on investigative reporting, news analysis and feature storytelling.
Tennessee coach Josh Heupel was on the team bus Saturday morning as it pulled in front of Neyland Stadium for the annual spring game. It was the end of a tumultuous, and potentially career-defining, week.
The Volunteers had just split with their star quarterback, Nico Iamaleava, after an attempted renegotiation of Iamaleava’s compensation for the 2025 season fell through.
Heupel and Iamaleava had always had a strong relationship, but when the QB didn’t report to practice Friday, there was little choice. “We’re moving on as a program without him,” Heupel would say later.
After all, how can you run a college team when your leader is holding out?
“There’s nobody bigger than the ‘Power T,'” Heupel said.
A great line. And a true one that would ring out as a rallying cry to NIL-weary coaches across the country: “If they want to play holdout, they might as well play get out,” Miami coach Mario Cristobal echoed.
Still, this is the SEC. This is major college football with all the expectations and pressure. This is a coaching profession where careers can turn on a single game, let alone season. “Do it the right way” tends to work only if you win.
As Heupel was about to step off the bus to face a crowd of Volunteers fans, his team was, at least on paper, less of a contender than two days prior. The reaction could have gone in any direction.
He was greeted with roaring cheers.
Iamaleava’s legacy as a quarterback remains unknown, a work in progress for the 20-year-old with three years of collegiate eligibility remaining.
In terms of his impact on the early days of the NIL era in college football though, he is a seminal figure, somehow representing both ends of the pendulum swing of player empowerment.
In the spring of 2022, Iamaleava, then just a high school junior, agreed to a four-year deal worth approximately $8 million with Tennessee’s NIL collective, Spyre Sports Group. It included a $350,000 up-front payment, per reporting by the Athletic, with money paid out during his senior season at Warren High School in California.
It was a bold, and strategically smart, play by Tennessee. While other schools were wading cautiously into NIL and the NCAA was feverishly trying to set up so-called “guardrails,” the Vols smartly saw where things were headed. When the NCAA eventually challenged the deal, the state’s attorney general stepped in and won an injunction.
Now, however, the player who was once cheered and who was paid millions before becoming the full-time starter is the poster child for NIL backlash. Rather than play out the final season of his deal — which would pay him about $2.2 million — Iamaleava reportedly wanted some $4 million that was commensurate with what other quarterbacks who transferred this year were getting.
Asking for more was Iamaleava’s right, but with rights comes risk. As with any negotiation, you can push too far.
Iamaleava is a promising and tough player, but 11 of his 19 touchdown passes last season came against lesser competition. He has great potential, but something didn’t sit right in Knoxville with how the process has played out.
This felt obnoxious.
“It’s unfortunate, just the situation and where we’re at with Nico,” Heupel said. “I want to thank him for everything that he’s done since he’s gotten here … a great appreciation for that side of it.”
That said, if being the starter and cornerstone at Tennessee — with its rich history, its massive fan base, its QB-developing head coach, its SEC spotlight and years of familiarity — isn’t enough without a few more bucks, then so be it.
It can’t all be about money, even these days.
“This program’s been around for a long time,” Heupel said. “A lot of great coaches, a lot of great players that came before, laid the cornerstone pieces, the legacy, the tradition that is Tennessee football. It’s going to be around a long time after I’m done and after they’re gone.”
Whatever games Tennessee might lose without Iamaleava, it gained in dignity by drawing a line in the sand. That’s what the fans were rightfully cheering; a boomerang that saw the school claw back some power.
Just as Iamaleava had the right under current rules to walk away if his demands weren’t meant, so too could the Volunteers. If it’s all business, then let it be all about business.
Iamaleava will be fine, mind you. He has already made more money than most Americans ever will, and he can’t legally drink yet. And this isn’t the first of these kinds of disputes, just the first that was so public and messy.
Iamaleava might or might not get $4 million next season. Negotiations were poorly managed, costing the player leverage and reputation. The market for a guy with questionable commitment, especially during the late transfer cycle, could be limited, what with big-time schools mostly set at QB.
He will still get plenty though. Would he have developed better long term under Heupel playing for the Vols? Well, Iamaleava didn’t think it was worth finding out.
Again, his career, his choice. It’s all fair game.
As for Tennessee, it might not even take a step back this season. Having a QB focused on his next deal rarely works in the first place. This might even be a boost for team chemistry.
Long term, it’s still Tennessee. It’s still Rocky Top. Heupel still has the No. 1 quarterback recruit in the Class of 2026 — Faizon Brandon of North Carolina — committed.
Most importantly, the Vols served a very public reminder that spending cash doesn’t assure anything. Money matters, but it has to be on the right guys — just as it is in the NFL or NBA. Think of how some of those big-budget Texas A&M recruiting classes worked out.
Ohio State is believed to have had the largest NIL budget last season. If it had gone to players who cared only about their deals and not each other, the Buckeyes would have collapsed after the loss to Michigan. Instead they got stronger.
What Iamaleava, once the poster child for players getting their value when he was still a recruit, has become is proof that a team can have values, too.
A program has to stand for something.
Tennessee showed it does, and that is why Heupel, at the end of a difficult week, found Tennessee fans standing for something as well.
CHICAGO — At 27, Luis Robert Jr. is already a relic of sorts, the last remaining player from the White Sox’s all-too-brief era of contention.
On the south side of Chicago, that era seems like a very long time ago. That’s how a pair of 100-loss seasons, including last year’s record-setting 121-loss campaign, can warp a baseball fan’s perception of time. In fact, it was only 3½ years ago when, on Oct. 12, 2021, Chicago was eliminated by the Houston Astros from the American League Division Series.
Seventeen players appeared in that game for the White Sox. Robert had a hit that day but had to leave early with leg tightness — one of a string of maladies that have bedeviled his career. He is the only one of those 17 still in Chicago.
The irony: If Robert was playing up to his potential, he wouldn’t be around, either. And if he regains his mojo, he’s as good as gone.
Robert has the chance to be the most sought-after position player in 2025’s in-season trade market. Pull up any speculative list of trade candidates and Robert is near the top. Executives around the league ask about him eagerly. Despite a lack of positive recent results — including a disastrous 2024 and a rough start to this season — it’s not hard to understand why.
“A player like Luis Robert always gets a lot of attention,” White Sox GM Chris Getz said when the season began. “We’re really happy where he’s at, and how he approached spring training and how he’s performing. We expect him to perform at a very high level.”
Robert’s tools are impossible to miss. His bat speed (93rd percentile in 2025, per Statcast) is elite. His career slugging percentage when putting the ball in play is .661, slotting him in the 89th percentile among all hitters. It’s the same figure as New York Mets superstar Juan Soto. Robert’s sprint speed (29.0 feet per second) is in the 94th percentile. When healthy, he’s a perennial contender to add a second Gold Glove to the one he won as a rookie.
Still, the allure of Robert is as much about his contract as it is about his baseline talent. Smack in his prime and less than two years removed from a 5.3 bWAR season, Robert will earn just $15 million in 2025 and then has two team-friendly club options, both at $20 million with a $2 million buyout.
No potentially available hitter has this combination: a recent record of elite production, a right-now prime age, top-of-the-charts underlying talent and a club-friendly contract with multiyear potential but plenty of off-ramps. That such a player toils for a team projected to finish in the basement has for a while now made this a matter of if, not when, he is moved.
“I didn’t think I’d be here,” Robert said through an interpreter. “But I’m glad that I’m here. This is the organization that made my dream come true. It’s the only organization that I know.”
The White Sox could certainly have dealt Robert by now, based on that contract/talent combination alone. But the luxury of the contract from Chicago’s standpoint is that it buys the team time to seek maximum return. First, Robert has to show he’s healthy — so far, so good in 2025 — then he needs to demonstrate the kind of production that would make an impact for a team in win-now mode.
“He’s just extremely talented,” first-year White Sox manager Will Venable said. “The one thing that I learned about him, and watching him practice every day, is he practices extremely hard. He’s extremely focused. He certainly has the physical ability, but he’s the type of player he is because he works really hard.”
Certainly, the skills are elite, but the production has been inconsistent and, for now, headed in the wrong direction.
When Robert broke in with Chicago a few years ago, he was a consensus top-five prospect. ESPN’s Kiley McDaniel ranked Robert fifth before the 2020 season, but in his analysis of the ranking, McDaniel noted one of the key reasons Robert is still on the White Sox five years later: “The concern is that Robert’s pitch selection is weak enough — described as a 35 on the 20-80 scale — that it could undermine his offensive tools.”
Since the beginning of last season, there have been 202 hitters with at least 450 plate appearances. According to the FanGraphs metric wRC+, only 15 have fared worse than Roberts’ 80. Only 10 have posted a worse ratio of walks to strikeouts (0.22). Only nine have a lower on-base percentage (.275).
Despite starting the season healthy, his superficial numbers during the early going are even worse than last year. As the team around him plunged to historic depths, Robert slashed to career lows across the board (.224/.278/.379 over 100 games). This year, that line is a disturbing .163/.250/.245.
There is real evidence that Robert is trying to reform. The most obvious evidence is a walk rate (10.3%) nearly double his career average. The sample is small, but there are under-the-hood indicators that suggest it could be meaningful. For example, Robert’s early chase rate (34.2%, per Statcast) is a career low and closer to the MLB standard (28.5).
For aggressive swingers well into their careers, trying to master plate discipline is a tall task. Few established players of that ilk have had a longer road to travel than Robert. During the wild-card era, there have been 1,135 players who have compiled at least 1,500 plate appearances. Only 17 have a lower walk-to-strikeout ratio than Robert’s career figure (0.21).
On that list are 133 hitters with a career mark of 0.3 W/SO or lower, who together account for 645 different seasons of at least 300 plate appearances. Only 26 times did one of those seasons result in at least a league-average ratio, or about 4%. Only one of those hitters had two such seasons, another 24 did it once and 108 never did it.
Still, 4% isn’t zero. To that end, Robert spent time during the winter working out with baseball’s current leader in W/SO — Soto.
“It’s no secret that one of the reasons why he’s one of the best players in the game is that he’s quite disciplined,” Robert said. “And that’s one of the things I want to improve.”
That’s easier said than done, and for his part, Soto said the workouts were mostly just that — workouts, though they were conducted with Robert’s hitting coach on hand. As with everyone else, it’s the sheer talent that exudes from Robert that caught Soto’s eye.
“Tremendous baseball player and tremendous athlete,” Soto told ESPN’s Jorge Castillo in Spanish. “He showed me a lot of his abilities that I didn’t know he had. That guy has tremendous strength, tremendous power. And he really surprised me a lot in everything we did.”
In this year’s Cactus League, Robert produced a .300/.386/.500 slash line, with four homers.
“If I’m able to carry on the work that I did during spring training, I’m going to have a good season,” Robert said. “Especially in that aspect of my vision of the whole plate. I know I can do it.”
Getz — who will have to determine if and when to pull the trigger on a Robert deal — lauded Robert’s efforts during the spring.
“Luis Robert is in an excellent spot,” Getz said. “The amount of three-ball counts that he had in spring training was by far the most he has had as a professional player. So that just speaks to his determination and focus to put together quality at-bats.”
It’s a bittersweet situation. The remaining vestige of the last good White Sox team remains the club’s most talented player. He’s in his age-27 season, often the apex of a hitter’s career. Yet if he reaches that apex, it’s only going to smooth his way out of town.
For the White Sox, all they can do is make sure Robert can stay focused on the field, while tuning out the trade chatter that isn’t going away.
“We’re going to support Luis,” Getz said. “I know that oftentimes he gets asked questions whether he’s going to be traded, but I’ve been really impressed with how he’s been able to remain focused on his craft. He’s very motivated to show the baseball world what he’s capable of doing.”
The 6-foot-2, 205-pound wideout led all ACC freshmen with 48 catches last season and produced 525 receiving yards and six touchdowns in his debut season with the Cardinal. Mosley entered the transfer portal earlier this month after Stanford fired coach Troy Taylor.
Mosley, a former three-star recruit from Santa Margarita, California, earned a starting role with the Cardinal and became the team’s second-leading receiver as a true freshman. He enjoyed a strong finish to his debut season with two 100-yard performances in November and broke multiple program single-game freshman records in an upset win over Louisville with 13 catches for 168 yards and three touchdowns.
Texas coach Steve Sarkisian has told reporters he’s also looking to add help at tight end and on the defensive line when the spring transfer portal window officially opens Wednesday. The Longhorns brought in five transfers this offseason as they look to build on their 13-3 season, which came to an end in the College Football Playoff semifinals.