As soon as I say, “Yes, I love watching sports,” I know what’s coming next. Okay, so list the line up.
It has always fascinated me how guys complain about girls who hate when they watch sports, yet the moment a girl says she enjoys watching them, it becomes a question of her knowledge. The pop quiz commences.
It’s a lose-lose situation.
Growing up with my dad as the local high school football coach, Friday nights were always reserved for football under the lights, watching first & ten. It was basically engraved into my schedule. These nights taught me more than just my routine concession order—they showed me what it meant to watch players fight for victory on the field. It taught me that wanting to win is one thing, but achieving it requires relying on a whole team.
I grew up understanding that an emotional, empowering locker room conversation could turn the whole game around. In many ways, sports taught me more about life than any classroom ever could.
So, it was no surprise that I welcomed a career in sports with open arms. The unexpected surprise? Proving I belonged there in the first place.
Women are expected to have specific hobbies. We can paint. We can dance. We can even revel in hosting a great party. But the second we decide to dabble in a little Monday Night Football, suddenly, we have no business being there. Are you feeling the imposter syndrome yet?
Loving sports and understanding them are two very different things. For example, you can love movies without being asked to list every Oscar winner. You can study film, dedicate years to understanding the industry and build a career around your knowledge without your gender automatically becoming a question of credibility. So why should sports be any different?
There is a distinction between justifying your passion and proving your qualifications. The problem is that women are often expected to do both. Women have to work twice as hard to build careers in industries that may never take them seriously.
This is incredibly damaging to women in sports. They are constantly left questioning whether they deserve a seat at the table at all. What are we losing when talented women spend their careers proving they belong instead of being given the opportunity to show what they can contribute?
We lose passion. We lose the love of sport and the stories it has to tell, all to a battle over legitimacy.
I have felt it with my own friends. Instead of applauding me for my work, my group of guy friends will laugh and tell me to “avoid appearing on their screen during halftime” or joke that “they prefer a man telling them about a sport he can actually play.” In moments where I normally would defend myself, I find myself exhausted by the same tired narrative they continue to perpetuate.
And while these comments may come from my own friend group, the attitude behind them is a tale as old as time. The sports industry has made strides in creating space for women, but that space often comes with the expectation that we must continuously prove we deserve to occupy it. Instead of simply accepting that women know ball, our knowledge becomes something to question rather than something to respect.
It leaves us with a choice. Do we let the constant questioning get to us, or do we continue pursuing what we love for ourselves? While I can acknowledge the frustration, I refuse to let it overshadow the passion that brought me here in the first place.
It is a tough truth that women may continue to battle for respect in sports. But the best part about it is that I am one of many women in sports. There is a powerhouse of women I have looked up to who have brought me right where I need to be. Erin Andrews, Laura Rutledge and Brooklyn Fletcher are representing women and do it with pride.
The best part about sports is the storytelling, but maybe we should reflect on the story that means the most: our own.
So, as I reminisce about those Friday night lights, I remember one thing: winning isn’t about proving you deserve to be where you are. It’s about showing you knew you belonged there all along.