MESA, Ariz. — Sean Doolittle, the ace reliever for the Oakland Athletics, would rather not be known that way. He has a charming impulse to ridicule anything that sounds absurd and self-righteous, even if it is accurate. His Twitter handle — @whatwouldDOOdo — is a pun and a question, a vessel for jokes, but also for good will.  “I just like showing people — and this might be at the root of everything that I’ve done — that I don’t want to be looked at as a baseball robot,” he said the other morning, before an A’s practice. “It feels weird to say there’s more to me than that, like I’m being overdramatic, and a tear rolls down my cheek. But, no — I do like I feel like there’s more to me than just baseball.  “When I was a kid, I remember my parents would say, ‘Baseball is what you do, but that’s not who you are’ — like that might be my job, but that’s not the end-all, be-all. I feel like I might even be able to use it to help other people or open some doors or explore more opportunities.”  Many athletes donate time and money to charities. Doolittle is a strong supporter of Operation Finally Home, which builds houses for wounded veterans and their families. The difference with Doolittle and his girlfriend, Eireann Dolan, a writer and a host on Comcast SportsNet Bay Area, is their willingness to embrace publicly the kinds of causes rarely discussed, let alone endorsed, in the strongly right-leaning culture of the baseball clubhouse.  Last spring, in response to an online backlash against a scheduled lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender Pride Night at the Oakland Coliseum, Doolittle and Dolan raised $40,000 and bought about 900 tickets. Last fall, in response to the call by some governors to bar Syrian refugees, they planned and financed a Thanksgiving dinner for refugee families in Chicago, Dolan’s hometown. Twitter trolls, Dolan said, criticized them for the public nature of such causes.  “It does seem disingenuous to say, ‘Look at me giving!’ — but this, to me, is a little different, because we’re trying to create things where people can get involved and be part of a movement,” Dolan said.  “There’s an impact that can be had by sharing it and sort of crowdsourcing it — especially with Oakland A’s fans, who are crazy generous. The opportunity cost of not getting them involved is just too great. People really respond when given an opportunity to take part in something.”  Dolan’s mother is gay, and her grandfather emigrated from Ireland to flee a civil war. She feared that gay people who were newly out might see empty seats on Pride Night and take it as a rejection of their orientation. A Thanksgiving feast for Syrian refugees simply seemed like the humane thing to do.  “Whether you like it or not, these people are part of our community now,” Doolittle said. “These people are part of our country now. They’re going to go to our schools and pay taxes and join our military and work here. Why not welcome them?  “Regardless of people’s stances on the issue, when they’re here, let’s show them that regardless of what’s going on with our political scene right now in America, we can be hospitable. Let’s welcome them in and treat them like we treat the rest of our neighbors.”  Their plan attracted the notice of the Chicago mayor’s office, which helped organize the dinner but changed the time, holding it before Doolittle and Dolan arrived in town. But her father attended in their place, and A’s fans, she said, donated cookies and pies for desserts.  On Pride Night, held last June, hundreds of fans enjoyed a game and several charities shared in the donations. Stephanie Perron, the director of Our Space, a community center for at-risk L.G.B.T. teens and young adults, had never heard of Doolittle or Dolan before her group was included.  “I was surprised to get the phone call,” she said. “I had never thought about approaching sports folks for support. But I think it really speaks to the power of relationship building. Change happens when we know one another and build a community.”  Through the Pride Night event, Bloomingdale’s learned about Our Space and held a fund-raiser, with Doolittle and Dolan greeting fans. Again, he said, his involvement stemmed from an instinct to do what seemed right.  “Could you imagine being ostracized or judged or shunned just for being who you are?” he said. “I guess that blew my mind, more than anything else. If you’re born a certain way, or if you’re born in a certain part of the world, you’re persecuted for that? That doesn’t make sense. I’ll never understand that.”  The main theme, said Doolittle, 29, is finding a negative and spinning it around. The idea made him a major leaguer. Drafted as a first baseman but ravaged by leg injuries, he turned to pitching and reinvented himself, earning an All-Star selection in 2014. He missed most of last season with shoulder trouble, but he returned and pitched well down the stretch.  Using social media comes naturally for Doolittle and Dolan, who followed each other on Twitter before they met. In 2012, Dolan was working on a comedy-writing venture with the then-Oakland pitcher Brandon McCarthy, who told his teammate that Dolan would be a good match for his sense of humor. Doolittle direct-messaged Dolan on Twitter and asked her on a date to get frozen yogurt, and they have been together ever since.  “Is that a tale as old as time?” she said. “Honestly.”  Doolittle’s Twitter feed offers a slice of personality, heavy on “Star Wars” references, low on politics. The son of an Air Force navigator who was awarded a bronze star in 2003 for his role in Operation Enduring Freedom, he said he was a lifelong Republican and had found no current presidential candidate to be inspiring. But by watching the debates, knowing the issues and taking an occasional activist stance, Doolittle distinguishes himself.  “It takes a lot of confidence and guts to put yourself out there,” said Oakland outfielder Sam Fuld, the son of a former New Hampshire state senator. Fuld said players rarely discussed social causes beyond a few one-liners. “You’ll never see us set up at a round table hashing out political issues,” he said.  Among teammates, there seems to be, at least, a certain respect for Doolittle’s resolve to support issues that others would avoid. He is more than a player.  “I think it’s great that Sean is outspoken about the things that he believes in,” catcher Stephen Vogt said, “and he goes to such great lengths to bring awareness to those areas that he is passionate about.”  A version of this article appears in print on March 13, 2016, on page SP1 of the New York edition with the headline: Off the Mound, Bringing Relief to the Ostracized. Order Reprints| Today's Paper|Subscribe
The Oakland Athletics reliever and his girlfriend have endorsed social causes that are not always closely embraced by professional athletes.