Out on Screen, Still Unsafe in Sport: Why Heated Rivalry Hits Hard 

Sports calling itself “neutral” is one of culture’s longest-running jokes, and while I do enjoy a laugh, it is my job to point out the mess that people won’t even acknowledge exists, and this time feels perfect indeed. Heated Rivalry has taken the world by storm, and in doing so has flipped the entire narrative that existed on queerness in sports. 

Now, I must admit, the show is entirely too entertaining. It’s raw, slick, fast-paced, and so very charged, the chemistry between Shane and Illya, paralleled with the actual actors Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie, definitely helps in more ways than one. As much as I would absolutely love to drone on about the show, I am here to confront something deeper. 

What rests under the ice is far more unsettling. Heated Rivalry has cracked the façade of neutrality in the sports industry harder than a body check. It recognises that visibility is not equal to safety. That being out, whether in real life or reel life, does not mean protection or acceptance within professional sport. 

Does excellence equal immunity? Because that is exactly what the institution promises, does it not? It rests on the paramount rule of: Win enough, perform well enough, bring home trophies, and everything else will stop mattering. How easy. Heated Rivalry exposes how this particular promise comes with a mighty long list of terms and conditions. 

So let us acknowledge it fair and square – The fine print of winning. Winning, we are told, acts as a great equaliser. It makes everything else fall into irrelevance. But I present, not a new perspective, but a more uncomfortable one. You see, winning only increases visibility, and as it is, queer athletes struggle with representation. With every win, the visibility increases, and so does the anxiety of such players, who hold most of their personality in the shadows. What rarely gets discussed is how much energy that silence consumes. 

The constant monitoring of language. The instinctive editing of pronouns. Out on the field, players play with confidence; off the field, they meticulously maintain the charade of normality. 

And in this, maintenance of the normal, a player never rests. 

For closeted athletes, the fear isn’t always about being rejected outright; it’s about being labeled different. About being perceived as a distraction. About teammates suddenly weighing your presence differently. Silence, in that sense, becomes a form of self-preservation, even when it corrodes a person from the inside out. 

That anxiety and exhaustion of hiding away is what Heated Rivalry captures brilliantly; it doesn’t portray that choice as a noble sacrifice, it captures the raw angst that the players feel, who have to keep themselves in check always. 

As it is, perhaps the cruelest part is that they are still expected to display openness in every other sense of the word, bond with their teammates, be a team player, and so on. So, they get to be “themselves” in every way except in the way that makes the institution uncomfortable. How convenient. 

Speaking of convenience, the terms and conditions placed on queer athletes are not add-ons to their former personality, they rewrite how they are seen entirely. The moment an athlete comes out, perception shifts. Wins are still applauded, sure, but losses are suddenly interrogated. Confidence is admired until it falters; then it’s called distraction. A bad game becomes evidence. A bad season becomes a verdict.

But mind you, if you thought Heated Rivalry is just a series for entertainment, Ice Hockey player Jesse Korteum has officially come out as gay, sharing a post on his Instagram, giving credit to the show that inspired him to step up finally. In an interview with BBC SPORT, he stated, “It really hit me and a lot of gay athletes – our whole lives we were taught it was not OK to be gay”. This shows a real ground-level impact that makes considerable positive change. Or, as our beloved Captain Raymond Holt (Brooklyn 99) once reminded us (he is indeed a gay icon after all)“Every time someone steps up and admits who they are, the world becomes a better and more interesting place.”

Now, as harsh a critic as I might be, credit where credit is due: the 2024 Paris Olympics broke all previous records for queer representation with 199 athletes from LGBTQIA+ communities. Subsequently, players participated under the official Olympic banner “Games Wide Open”, a commitment to inclusivity and integration of queer community in sports. An institution that does not divide based on personal preferences. A commendable feat indeed. 

It’s not to say that stigma around queer athletes or sports players does not exist now, as of 2025 NHL does not have a single openly queer member, as is the case with many such sports. With a special inclusion of team sports, where such identity becomes even more complicated, because a dynamic with fellow team members must be maintained to keep up good performance. This leaves queer athletes hesitant and alone, and the locker room, as it should be, is not a place of comfort or camaraderie as it is supposed to be. But yes, there is progress; it is hesitant and slow, but progress nevertheless. 

Sports can call itself neutral if it so desires, but the reality does not hide when shows like Heated Rivalry step up with such daring that cannot be quietened. The show doesn’t offer comfort or easy optimism; it offers exposure.That exposure is precisely what strikes with the audience, the commitment to maintain authenticity, and to not glorify or sugar coat the reality – the one where queer athletes are made to feel unaccepted in their own skin. And if they do come out, they should be visible enough to be commodified, talented enough to be indispensable and still be expected to disappear if their presence becomes inconvenient. 

And so, the question this series leaves us with is: if winning, excellence, and global celebration are still not enough to guarantee comfort and acceptance, then what exactly is rewarded in sports? And who is this institution built for? Or maybe the real question that I must ask you is: Why do we keep calling basic survival a victory? The answer is unclear because the actions of the sports industry are unclear. As long as the answers don’t see the light of day, sports cannot be termed inclusive. And as it rests, the joke about sports calling itself neutral might just be the funniest joke yet, because it surely is not the reality, and neutrality, it turns out, is just oppression in a better uniform.