Hat Trick: CEO Steals from Child, Still Gets Bonus
Editorial by Contributor Lisel
The internet lit up with fury after a grown man—Polish CEO Piotr Szczerek—snatched a signed tennis cap from a child at the US Open. In a country divided by politics and class, few things unite people like the sight of a kid being robbed of joy by someone rich enough to know better. If justice won’t come from the courts, it should come from his wallet
It began as a feel-good moment—an underdog tennis player, a young fan, and a simple gesture of appreciation. But within hours, it had metastasized into a viral scandal that would engulf a Polish CEO, spark international outrage, and raise uncomfortable questions about entitlement, image management, and the fragility of corporate reputation in the age of social media. At the center of it all: Piotr Szczerek, the head of Drogbruk, a paving company based in Poland, who became globally infamous for snatching a signed tennis cap from a child at the US Open.
The incident was captured on video and shared widely across platforms. In the clip, Polish tennis player Kamil Majchrzak walks off the court and hands his autographed cap to a boy named Brock, who had been cheering him on from the stands. Before Brock can fully grasp the moment, Szczerek swoops in, grabs the hat, and stuffs it into his wife’s bag. The boy is visibly confused. The crowd is stunned. And within hours, the internet is ablaze.
Szczerek’s initial response was swift. He posted an apology on Facebook and Instagram, admitting fault and claiming the act was a misunderstanding. “I made a serious mistake,” he wrote. “In the emotions, in the crowd’s joy after the victory, I was convinced that the tennis player was handing the cap in my direction.” He added that he had reached out to Majchrzak and the boy’s family to make amends. But the damage was already done. The video had gone viral, and the narrative was set: a wealthy CEO had stolen a gift meant for a child, and tried to pass it off as a mix-up.
The backlash was immediate and brutal. Social media users across Poland, the United States, and beyond began dissecting the footage frame by frame, mocking Szczerek’s actions and questioning his character. Memes proliferated. TikTok creators reenacted the scene with exaggerated villainy. Twitter users dubbed him “Hatgate CEO” and “The Cap Collector.” The incident became a symbol of corporate arrogance, of grown men who take what they want and apologize only when caught.
But who is Piotr Szczerek, really? Until this moment, he was largely unknown outside of Poland’s business circles. Drogbruk, the company he leads, specializes in paving stones and infrastructure materials. It’s not flashy work, but it’s profitable. Szczerek had built a reputation as a savvy entrepreneur with a passion for tennis—a sport he often played and sponsored locally. He was seen as a family man, a community supporter, and a quiet success story. That image has now been shattered.
In Poland, the scandal has taken on a life of its own. News outlets ran headlines like “CEO Steals Hat from Child” and “Polish Businessman Shames Nation at US Open.” Politicians weighed in. Anita Kucharska-Dziedzic, a member of the Polish parliament, lamented that Szczerek had become “the most recognisable Polish businessman in the world,” and not for the right reasons. The incident, she argued, had tarnished the reputation of Polish entrepreneurs globally, reinforcing stereotypes of greed and entitlement.
Drogbruk itself has not been spared. The company’s social media pages were flooded with angry comments and one-star reviews. On platforms like GoWork and Trustpilot, users left scathing feedback, often referencing the hat incident directly. “I wouldn’t trust this company to pave a sandbox,” one review read. Another called for Szczerek’s resignation, arguing that his behavior reflected poorly on the brand and its values. The company issued a brief statement distancing itself from the incident, but the association was already cemented.
Majchrzak, the tennis player, handled the situation with quiet grace. He reached out to Brock’s family and arranged for replacement memorabilia, including signed hats and shirts. He posted a photo with the boy, smiling and holding the new gear, and thanked fans for their support. In doing so, he reclaimed the narrative—reminding everyone that the moment was meant to be about connection, not controversy.
Szczerek, meanwhile, went dark. His social media accounts were briefly deactivated. A bizarre statement surfaced from someone claiming to be his legal representative, suggesting that the hat grab was an “educational gesture” meant to teach children about sharing. That explanation was quickly walked back, but it added fuel to the fire. Critics saw it as emblematic of the kind of spin that powerful people deploy when caught in the wrong.
The incident also sparked broader conversations about corporate accountability. In an era where CEOs are increasingly expected to embody their company’s values, Szczerek’s actions raised uncomfortable questions. Can a single moment of poor judgment undo years of brand-building? Should executives be held to higher standards of public behavior? And what does it say about our culture that a paving company’s reputation can be undone by a tennis cap?
For many, the answer is clear. In the age of viral media, optics matter more than ever. A CEO is not just a business leader—they’re a brand ambassador, a public figure, and a symbol of their company’s ethos. When that symbol is caught stealing from a child, even in a moment of confusion, the fallout is swift and unforgiving.
The calls for boycott have grown louder. Activists and influencers have urged consumers to avoid Drogbruk products, arguing that the company must take responsibility for its leader’s actions. Some have suggested that Szczerek should step down, or at least issue a more comprehensive apology. Others have called for corporate reforms—more transparency, more accountability, and clearer consequences for executives who cross ethical lines.
There’s also a cultural layer to the backlash. In Poland, where public trust in institutions has been eroded by years of political scandal and economic inequality, the image of a wealthy businessman stealing from a child struck a nerve. It became a metaphor for broader frustrations—a symbol of how power can be abused, and how ordinary people are often left to pick up the pieces.
Internationally, the story has resonated for different reasons. In the United States, where the incident occurred, it tapped into familiar narratives about privilege, entitlement, and the performative nature of apologies. On platforms like Reddit and X, users debated whether Szczerek’s apology was sincere, or simply a PR maneuver. Some pointed out that the video showed no hesitation—no confusion, no attempt to clarify. Just a grab, a stash, and a walk away.
Others took a more sympathetic view. They argued that the moment was chaotic, that misunderstandings happen, and that Szczerek’s apology should be accepted. But even among those voices, there was a recognition that the incident had become bigger than the hat itself. It was about perception, about power, and about the way we hold public figures accountable.
In the weeks since the incident, Szczerek has attempted to rehabilitate his image. He’s posted about supporting youth sports, about humility and learning from mistakes. He’s made donations to tennis programs and issued statements about the importance of integrity. But the internet has a long memory, and the video continues to circulate. For many, the damage is done.
The incident also raises questions about the role of social media in shaping public narratives. In the past, a moment like this might have gone unnoticed, or been quietly resolved. But today, with smartphones and instant sharing, every action is subject to scrutiny. The court of public opinion is swift, and often unforgiving.
For Drogbruk, the road ahead is uncertain. The company must decide whether to stand by its CEO or chart a new course. It must rebuild trust with consumers, partners, and employees. And it must reckon with the reality that one viral moment can redefine a brand overnight.
As for Szczerek, his legacy is now intertwined with a tennis cap and a child named Brock. Whether he can move past the scandal remains to be seen. But the incident serves as a cautionary tale—for CEOs, for companies, and for anyone who thinks that a moment of poor judgment won’t come back to haunt them.
In the end, it wasn’t just about a hat. It was about power, perception, and the fragile nature of reputation in a hyper-connected world. And it was a reminder that sometimes, the smallest gestures—a gift to a child, a moment of generosity—can reveal the biggest truths.
In the end, it wasn’t just a hat—it was a window into how power warps judgment and erodes basic decency. If leaders won’t be held accountable by their conscience, they should be held accountable by the public, one lost customer at a time. We want to hear from you at Misleading.com
