Reflecting on Misogyny and Internalized Misogyny in Sports Spectatorship and Fandom
Jack Hughes, Quinn Hughes, Matthew Knies, Vince Dunn, Juraj Slafkovský, Connor Bedard, Mitch Marner, Nico Hischier, Matt Rempe, and Ethan Edwards from the University of Michigan. That was not a complete sentence but rather a list of hockey players I frequently see “thirsted” over on social media. I see these thirsty posts, and I often scoff—do the original posters (typically young women) even know that Q. Hughes is the reigning Norris Trophy winner or that, at one point relatively recently, Rempe had more ejections than points in his National Hockey League (NHL) career, or that Dunn was previously caught saying a racial slur on a livestream? Do the original posters even care about these players’ accomplishments and shortcomings, or do they only like the players because they find them attractive?
I stop myself—that’s a deeply prejudicial and misogynistic thought. Why do I have such consequential knee-jerk reactions to such inconsequential social media posts?
Misogyny and general intolerance are major systemic issues in sports, particularly in sports like hockey, but seldom acknowledged are the joint issues of misogyny and internalized misogyny in relation to sports spectatorship and fandom. These issues have shaped my personal experience as a sports fan for over a decade, and they continue to be pervasive, perpetuating unwelcoming and hostile environments for prospective sports fans who identify as women. Together, they work to dissuade women from watching and becoming fans of sports.
The “True Fan” and the “Puck Bunny”
Over the years, I have seen a consistent, rigid, and highly misogynistic dichotomization of women sports fans. Women are often seen as falling into one of two categories: the “true fan” or the “puck bunny.” The “true fan” has a comprehensive knowledge of the sport, the league, the teams, the history, and so on, much like a stereotypical man who is a fan of the sport would. On the other hand, the “puck bunny” is solely motivated by the attractiveness of the athletes rather than by the sport itself. Though the term “puck bunny” is situated within the context of hockey, it applies to other sports as well. From personal experience, misogynistic sports fans are very quick to label women as “puck bunnies” if they do not fully satisfy the criteria required to be considered “true fans” of the sport.
In my opinion, this dichotomy inherently stems from the misogynistic notion that women do not belong in sports—not as players, coaches, executives, officials, broadcasters, analysts, or fans. While this notion may seem outdated given the recent rise in popularity of women’s basketball and the Women’s National Basketball Association, as well as the creation of and support for the Professional Women’s Hockey League, it is still commonly touted by many misogynistic sports fans. Take, for instance, the game played between the Washington Capitals and the Seattle Kraken on 23 January 2025. The game was historic in that it marked the first time women coaches faced off against one another in the NHL, with assistant coach Jessica Campbell behind the bench for the Kraken and video coach Emily Engel-Natzke working for the Capitals. Unsurprisingly, the online response to this historic game was substantially comprised of misogynistic vitriol.
I would surmise that the notion that women do not belong in sports is why this vitriol was so prevalent, but also why Jennifer Botterill receives so much more hate than any other Hockey Night in Canada analyst, why the skills and abilities of women athletes are often diminished and/or forcefully contrasted with those of men athletes, and why women sports fans receive so much hate for merely posting pictures of themselves wearing sports apparel. Fundamentally, misogyny is the hatred of women. Misogynists hate women and misogynistic sports fans deeply resent the perceived encroachment of women upon their space—that space being sports.
Returning to the idea of the “true fan” and the “puck bunny,” this dichotomy gives rise to another—the “true fan” is seemingly worthy and is allowed to enjoy the sport, whereas the “puck bunny” is neither worthy nor allowed to enjoy the spectacle. “Puck bunnies” are fair game, deserving of criticism, being mocked, and, ultimately, being shunned from the sports fandom. Consequently, many women sports fans develop fears of being labelled as “puck bunnies” and, thus, turn to performative fandom to prove their worth and gain respect from established sports fans. These women are “true fans”—they know stats, scores, and sports. Hockey is my favourite sport, and the Toronto Maple Leafs are my favourite team, yet I constantly feel the need to prove these facts. I am always mentally prepared to name five players on the current Leafs roster, five players on the current Toronto Marlies roster, five players from the 2013 Leafs playoff roster, five players from the 2010 Canadian men’s Olympic hockey roster, or the top five draft picks from the 2007 NHL entry draft. I genuinely wonder, do men who like sports live with the worry that their sports knowledge will be quizzed, just as many women who like sports are quizzed on theirs?
The Struggle with Internalized Misogyny
The fear of being quizzed on one’s sports knowledge (and failing), the fear of being labelled as a “puck bunny,” and the fear of being deemed unworthy form the basis of the internalized misogyny that I and many other women sports fans regrettably grapple with. The desire to be seen as a “true fan”—to be accepted and to be seen as equal—stokes the fire. While I seek to uplift and empower my fellow women in all other facets of my life, I struggle to do so when it comes to sports spectatorship and fandom because the internalized misogyny I deal with is so deeply rooted, having festered for years. Though I actively try not to, I still sometimes cringe or roll my eyes at thirsty TikTok edits of or X posts about athletes (especially hockey players). My reactions are inadvertent yet visceral, and the internalized misogyny within me is palpable. It feels like I am desperately clinging to the “true fans” who have the power to accept me and who can provide me with the validation I seek—validation that I am, in fact, a “true fan” like them and not a “puck bunny” like other girls. It is a vicious cycle, and it is the reason it took me so long to admit that my favourite colour is pink.
Moving Away from Misogyny and Internalized Misogyny
Due to how deeply rooted my sports-related internalized misogyny is, I cannot fully distance myself from it in an instant, despite how much I would like to. However, I am working on slowly undoing the influence of years of misogyny by learning to enjoy sports in the absence of external validation—enjoying sports without the label of “true fan” or any labels, for that matter. Until recently, I was hesitant to call myself a football fan because I am not highly knowledgeable about the sport. I cannot speak about football fluently and probably could not name more than five players on the Buffalo Bills, but I am learning that that is okay. I do not need to be perfect or extremely knowledgeable to be a fan of a team or to appreciate the sport. By shutting out the pervasive misogynistic noise and freeing myself from labels, I have been able to genuinely enjoy my time as a football fan. Additionally, I am working toward appreciating the thirsty edits of hockey players I see on social media, recognizing them for what they are: expressions of admiration for the players that were thoughtfully conceived of and created by sports fans who are passionate about hockey like I am. The fact that a person finds athletes attractive does not preclude them from being a genuine and active fan of the sport to which those athletes belong, contrary to the misogynistic conception of the “puck bunny.”
Ultimately, the more fans a sport has, the better the sport is. It does not matter how people become interested in sports—whether they become Kansas City Chiefs fans because Travis Kelce is dating their favourite singer or they become New Jersey Devils fans because they think J. Hughes and Hischier are attractive. It also does not matter how knowledgeable people are about sports—whether they can only name ten Major League Baseball teams by heart or struggle to understand the offside rule in hockey. The only things that actually matter are that they enjoy watching the sport and consider themselves fans; everything else is moot.
Collectively, we should embrace new sports spectators and champion more diverse sports fandoms. Coming back to the topic of social media posts thirsting over hockey players—the thing that helped me identify and eventually check my sports-related internalized misogyny—it’s clear that sports fandom comes in many different forms; there is no singular “correct” way to enjoy sports, and no individual or group should be able to dictate otherwise. Some sports fans choose to post Josh Allen playoff highlights in slow-motion on social media, while others choose to post compilations of Mat Barzal with his helmet off set to sultry music. In my opinion, both are valid and welcome expressions of sports fandom. At the end of the day, we are all equal, we are all sports fans, and we are all worthy of being recognized as such.