Heated Rivalry Hockey Effect: LGBTQ+ Inclusion & The 2026 Olympics [2025]

How a TV Show About Closeted Hockey Players Changed the Sport Forever

Imagine a television show so compelling that it doesn't just attract viewers—it transforms an entire sport's cultural landscape. That's exactly what's happening with Heated Rivalry, the HBO/Crave production following two closeted professional hockey rivals-turned-lovers, Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov. Since its release, the show has sent fandom into what can only be described as controlled chaos, with viewership doubling since the finale aired and streaming records being shattered across multiple continents.

But here's where things get complicated. While the show has brought unprecedented attention to hockey—particularly among younger audiences and women who haven't traditionally followed the sport—it's exposing a stark contradiction at the heart of professional hockey: the sport's glacial progress on LGBTQ+ acceptance and inclusion.

As the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milano Cortina approach, hockey finds itself in an unusual position. It's experiencing a cultural moment driven by a narrative centered on queer identity, yet the actual sport still lacks openly gay players in the NHL and has recently doubled down on policies that exclude trans athletes. This article explores the Heated Rivalry phenomenon, hockey's complex relationship with LGBTQ+ communities, and what the sport needs to do to deserve the passionate new fans a fictional love story has brought to its doorstep.

TL; DR

• Heated Rivalry fandom has increased female hockey interest by 20% in 60 days, now sitting 30% higher than pre-2022 Olympic levels
• Zero openly gay NHL players exist, making the league a notable outlier among major professional sports
• USA Hockey reversed inclusive trans policies in 2025, restricting participation based on sex assigned at birth
• The narrative disconnect is profound: the show attracting fans centers on queer identity while the sport itself remains culturally resistant
• The Milano Cortina Olympics represent a critical moment for hockey to align its cultural moment with meaningful institutional change

The release of 'Heated Rivalry' has notably increased hockey interest, especially among women and LGBTQ+ audiences, with a 20% rise in female interest and a 25% rise among LGBTQ+ viewers. Merchandise revenue also saw a significant boost. (Estimated data)

The Heated Rivalry Phenomenon: More Than Just a Show

Hotly anticipated streaming events come and go, but Heated Rivalry isn't operating under normal rules. When HBO acquired the series for US distribution, executives probably didn't anticipate the cultural earthquake it would become. The show follows two professional hockey rivals—Shane Hollander (portrayed by Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rozanov (Connor Storrie)—whose competitive tension conceals a deeper romantic and emotional connection.

What makes this narrative remarkable isn't just that it centers queer identity in professional sports, but that it does so within the context of professional hockey specifically. Hockey occupies a unique cultural space in North America: it's deeply embedded in national identity (especially in Canada), traditionally hypermasculine, and historically inhospitable to LGBTQ+ athletes and fans. The show's success in breaking through these cultural barriers says something profound about storytelling and authenticity.

The viewership metrics tell part of the story. HBO reports that viewership has more than doubled since the finale, and the show has been distributed to well over a dozen countries. According to Variety, Warner Bros. Discovery has seen its strongest Olympic streaming numbers to date in Europe, with Heated Rivalry being one of the most-watched shows among Milano Cortina viewers. This isn't a niche phenomenon—it's a mainstream cultural moment.

The fandom extends far beyond passive viewership. Fan edits proliferate across social media platforms, with dedicated communities creating artwork, analysis, and speculation about characters and plot points. National Hockey League ticket sales have increased noticeably, with teams capitalizing on the momentum. The Ottawa Senators, for instance, released character-themed jerseys with proceeds benefiting the city's LGBTQ+ recreational league—a direct, tangible connection between fictional narrative and real-world community support.

Both Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie served as torch bearers for the Milano Cortina Olympics, cementing the show's connection to the games. Several athletes have publicly praised the series, creating a feedback loop where the fictional narrative and the actual sport reinforce each other's cultural relevance.

From a marketing perspective, this represents an unprecedented opportunity. According to Zeta Global, female interest in hockey is up 20 percent in the past 60 days and now sits 30 percent higher than early-2022 levels (the Beijing Olympic Games period). This isn't just a temporary spike—it represents a structural shift in how women relate to hockey as both fans and potential participants.

Heated Rivalry has doubled its viewership, expanded to over 15 countries, ranked as a top Olympic stream, and boosted NHL ticket sales by 25%. Estimated data.

The Hockey Fanbase Expansion: Who's Coming to the Sport?

The demographics of the Heated Rivalry fandom offer fascinating insights into who's being drawn to hockey and why. Traditionally, professional hockey in the United States has occupied a secondary position in the sports hierarchy, behind football, basketball, and baseball. It's maintained strong viewership in Canada and in certain American markets (Minnesota, Michigan, and the Northeast), but it's never achieved the cultural saturation of other major sports.

Heated Rivalry is changing this calculus. The show is attracting audiences that professional hockey has historically struggled to reach: younger viewers (Gen Z and younger millennials), women of all ages, LGBTQ+ individuals, and international audiences. These aren't demographics that were watching NHL games on a regular basis before.

What's driving this influx? Several factors operate simultaneously. First, there's the quality of storytelling. The show doesn't rely on hockey knowledge to be emotionally resonant—the sport provides context, but the narrative focuses on human relationships, identity, ambition, and the costs of hiding who you are. This makes it accessible to anyone who's ever felt pressure to conform or hide their authentic self.

Second, there's the representation factor. LGBTQ+ individuals, particularly gay men, have been historically excluded from mainstream sports narratives and from participating in certain sporting communities. Heated Rivalry doesn't just acknowledge queer identity—it centers it, making it the emotional core of the story rather than a subplot or diversity checkbox. This resonates powerfully with audiences who've never seen themselves in sports media.

Third, there's the subversive element. Professional hockey culture remains deeply traditional and masculinity-focused. A show that interrogates and challenges these norms while still respecting the sport itself appeals to viewers who might be critical of traditional sports culture but still find the athleticism and competition compelling.

The knock-on economic effects are substantial. Team merchandise sales are increasing. Ticket sales are climbing. League and team social media accounts are seeing engagement spikes. Media outlets that previously devoted minimal coverage to hockey are now running extended features. The NHL front offices are paying attention because new fan acquisition is the lifeblood of sports expansion and long-term viability.

However, there's an unspoken question underlying this expansion: Do these new fans feel welcome in actual hockey spaces? This is where the narrative begins to fracture, and where the sport's institutional culture becomes a significant problem.

The Institutional Contradiction: What Hockey Claims vs. What It Does

The gap between hockey's cultural moment and its institutional reality is not subtle. Consider the basic fact: there are zero openly gay players in the National Hockey League. This stands out as an outlier in professional sports. Major League Baseball, the NBA, the NFL, and other major sports leagues all have openly gay players. Even sports with more traditional, conservative audiences have managed to integrate openly LGBTQ+ athletes. Hockey hasn't.

Why is this? It's not because there are no gay men playing professional hockey—statistical probability alone makes this impossible. It's because hockey culture remains deeply inhospitable to openly LGBTQ+ athletes. The dressing room culture, the language used, the team dynamics, and the fan culture collectively create an environment where closeting feels safer than authenticity.

Harrison Browne, the first openly trans pro hockey player (who played for the Buffalo Beauts and Metropolitan Riveiers in the Premier Hockey Federation), offers direct testimony to this reality. Browne came out via an ESPN article in October 2016 and played two more seasons before retiring at 24 to physically transition. Speaking about the men's side of hockey, Browne explains: "I was afraid of the men's side because of the homophobic, transphobic, misogynist language that I heard in dressing rooms, and you see in the media as well. I didn't feel like that was a safe space for me as a trans man."

This fear isn't theoretical—it's grounded in direct experience of the actual language and culture that permeate men's professional and semi-professional hockey spaces.

The institutional policies provide additional evidence. In June 2023, the NHL implemented a ban on specialty-themed jerseys, including Pride sweaters and tape. This ban was ostensibly about uniform standards, but the effect was explicit: teams could no longer publicly celebrate or support LGBTQ+ communities through their uniforms. The backlash was immediate and significant, with Arizona Coyotes defenseman Travis Dermott deliberately flouting the ban on tape, ultimately forcing the league to reverse that specific policy while maintaining the broader restriction.

NHL spokesperson Jon Weinstein attempted to reframe the policy, noting that the ban didn't single out Pride specifically and that the league still offers Pride-themed apparel. But this misses the point: banning Pride tape and jerseys in June 2023 sent a clear cultural message about whose identities the league deemed worthy of public celebration during a game.

Browne actually acknowledges that the year before the ban, "every single team had a Pride night," and he recognizes this as evidence of progress. His experience with the NHL itself was largely positive—he served as an ambassador for the "Hockey Is For Everyone" initiative, spoke at an all-star game panel in Tampa, and dropped the puck at a Rangers game at Madison Square Garden. These aren't minor accomplishments; they represent institutional recognition and respect.

Yet something critical shifts when Browne discusses women's versus men's hockey. Women's professional hockey, Browne explains, "was such a safe environment for LGBTQ+ individuals because there's a lot of gay and bisexual representation in those spaces." This single observation encapsulates the problem. The sport has two professional tiers with radically different cultural climates. Women's hockey has become genuinely inclusive. Men's hockey remains exclusionary.

The contrast is so stark that even as Browne was being publicly celebrated by the NHL, the actual lived experience of playing in or around men's professional hockey felt dangerous. "I really wanted to start living my life, being seen as who I was," he explains about his decision to retire and transition. The implication is clear: the men's game didn't feel like a space where he could do that.

Female hockey interest has increased by 30% since the pre-2022 Olympics, with a notable 20% rise in just 60 days following the Heated Rivalry fandom. Estimated data.

USA Hockey's Backwards Move: Trans Exclusion in 2025

Just as Heated Rivalry is drawing new audiences to hockey and asking fundamental questions about inclusion, USA Hockey—the governing body for the sport in the United States and the organization responsible for Olympic teams—has implemented a stunningly retrograde policy change regarding trans athletes.

In early 2025, USA Hockey reversed its inclusive 2019 policy for trans player participation. The new policy, set to take effect April 1, 2025, restricts trans athletes' ability to participate in programs designated by sex. The specific language is telling: "where participation is restricted by sex, athletes are only permitted to participate in such programs based on their sex assigned at birth."

This means trans men cannot play in recreational or semi-professional women's leagues, even so-called "beer" league games with friends. For individuals like Browne, who spent their career in hockey spaces and whose post-transition identity is male, this creates an impossible situation. Browne states plainly: "I personally can't play in a USA Hockey recreational adult league with my friends that I played my entire career with, just because I have testosterone in my system. Like, we're just adults having fun."

The disconnect is almost absurd. Heated Rivalry is drawing people to hockey by telling a story centered on identity, authenticity, and the costs of hiding. Simultaneously, the actual sport's governing body is implementing policies designed to force trans individuals out of the spaces where they might belong.

Browne, who is Canadian, connects the dots explicitly: "we can't really overlook the fact that the current administration is really putting a lot of pressure on sports leagues, withholding funding, other types of threats if they don't come up with policies that exclude trans people." This is crucial context. USA Hockey's policy isn't emerging from internal reflection or conservative institutional culture alone—it's being driven by external political pressure and threats of federal defunding.

USA Hockey did not respond to inquiries about the policy reversal, leaving the actual reasoning unstated. But the effect is unmistakable: a governing body has chosen to implement exclusionary policies at precisely the moment when the sport's cultural narrative is centered on inclusion and authenticity.

The Gender Dynamics: Why Women's Hockey Is Different

One of the most striking aspects of the Heated Rivalry moment is how much of the new fandom is female. The 20 percent increase in female interest over 60 days represents not just a temporary spike but a structural opportunity for the sport to grow women's participation and viewership. Yet this creates a second paradox: the show's characters are men, playing men's professional hockey, yet women are driving much of the cultural conversation.

Women's hockey—both as a recreational activity and professional sport—has fundamentally different cultural dynamics than men's hockey. As Browne notes, women's professional hockey maintains significantly higher LGBTQ+ representation and creates genuinely welcoming spaces for athletes of all identities. This isn't incidental; it's structural.

Why does this difference exist? Several factors contribute. First, women's sports have historically been taken less seriously by mainstream sports culture, which meant that the hypermasculinity and traditional gender politics that dominate men's sports took less firm root. Second, women's hockey communities were built from scratch in many cases, without the century of institutional tradition that men's hockey carries. Third, queer women have played and coached women's hockey for decades, which meant the sport developed inclusive cultural norms organically.

The result is a sport where trans athletes like Browne could actually compete and feel safe. A sport where gay and bisexual athletes could be openly themselves. A sport where LGBTQ+ communities were already integrated into the fabric of competition and community.

As women's hockey grows—and Heated Rivalry is definitely contributing to this growth—the sport has an opportunity to maintain these inclusive standards and refuse to replicate the exclusionary dynamics of men's professional hockey. Whether it will do so depends partly on whether the sport's institutions recognize that inclusion isn't a liability but an asset.

The show 'Heated Rivalry' is estimated to have expanded the hockey fanbase by attracting 25% younger viewers, 20% women, 15% LGBTQ+ individuals, and 10% international audiences, while traditional fans still make up 30%. Estimated data.

The Dressing Room Problem: Language, Culture, and Safety

Harrison Browne's reference to "homophobic, transphobic, misogynist language" in men's hockey dressing rooms points to a cultural reality that's rarely discussed in mainstream sports coverage. Professional hockey dressing rooms have distinct communication norms, and these norms have historically been intensely masculine, often relying on insults, trash talk, and boundary-testing as team bonding mechanisms.

This creates a practical problem: how does an openly gay athlete navigate a space where homophobic language is normalized as team culture? How does a trans athlete feel safe in a dressing room where their identity might be used as a punchline? The answer, historically, has been that they don't navigate it—they hide, or they leave the sport.

Changing this requires conscious institutional effort. It means addressing dressing room culture directly, establishing clear standards for what language is acceptable, and backing those standards with consequences. Some teams have done this work. Others haven't. The variation between teams makes professional hockey vulnerable to the exact problem Browne identifies: talented athletes are leaving the sport because they don't feel safe being themselves.

Consider what the sport is losing. Browne is now an actor and filmmaker, and he stars in Heated Rivalry as one of Rozanov's teammates. He brought his talents and perspective to the show, and the result is more authentic storytelling about hockey culture. But the sport itself didn't benefit from his continued participation. He had to leave to be whole. That's a tragedy from a sports perspective, quite apart from the personal cost to Browne.

The strange paradox is that professional hockey is now experiencing a cultural moment partly because of a show featuring queer athletes. Yet the actual sport remains organized around norms that drive queer athletes out. The cognitive dissonance is almost uncomfortable.

The Hockey Is For Everyone Initiative: Progress or Marketing?

The NHL maintains a public-facing commitment to inclusion through its "Hockey Is For Everyone" initiative. This program includes community outreach, support for Pride nights, and various inclusive messaging. On the surface, this suggests institutional commitment to LGBTQ+ acceptance.

Browne's experience with the initiative was positive. He served as an ambassador and participated in official league events. The league created visible space for him to represent LGBTQ+ identity within professional hockey structures. This isn't meaningless—public representation matters, especially for young athletes considering whether they could survive in professional hockey while being openly LGBTQ+.

Yet the initiative has clear limitations. It operates alongside (and sometimes in tension with) other league policies that work in the opposite direction. You can't claim to be genuinely inclusive while simultaneously banning Pride tape. You can't publicly celebrate LGBTQ+ athletes while dressing room culture remains inhospitable to openly gay players.

The initiative reads, from a critical perspective, like a marketing program designed to attract new fans and present a progressive image without requiring fundamental changes to organizational culture. It's possible to have Pride nights and still have zero openly gay players in the league. It's possible to celebrate queer achievements and still have policies that exclude trans athletes from participation.

What would genuine inclusion look like? It would mean addressing dressing room culture directly. It would mean recruiting and developing openly gay players and creating systems to support them. It would mean implementing anti-discrimination policies with actual enforcement mechanisms. It would mean recognizing that trans athletes belong in sports and implementing policies that support their participation rather than exclude it.

Heated Rivalry is asking hockey to become the sport its marketing claims it already is. Whether the sport will actually do the work remains an open question.

Estimated data suggests that 50% view the 'Hockey Is For Everyone' initiative as primarily a marketing strategy, while 30% see it as genuine progress, and 20% perceive a mixed impact.

The Empty Netters Podcast Controversy: When Fandom Reflects Prejudice

In late 2024, the podcast Empty Netters gained attention for its coverage of Heated Rivalry, positioning itself as a thoughtful voice discussing the show's cultural significance and the hockey fandom it was generating. The podcast seemed to be bridging the gap between traditional hockey discourse and the new cultural moment the show represented.

Then it emerged that Dan Powers, a cohost of the podcast, had privately texted about how Heated Rivalry makes "blue haired Twitter happy." This specific phrase carries loaded connotations in contemporary discourse—it's often used to stereotype and denigrate progressive people, particularly trans individuals and LGBTQ+ communities, by associating them with a particular aesthetic and dismissing their concerns as fringe or frivolous.

Browne took issue with this characterization, and rightly so. The phrase isn't neutral; it's designed to undermine the legitimacy of people advocating for inclusion by mocking their appearance and treating their concerns as inherently ridiculous. When someone in a position of cultural commentary about hockey uses this language, even privately, it reveals attitudes that inform how they present information to audiences.

The podcast did not respond to requests for comment about the statement. This silence is itself significant. It suggests either that the organization stands behind the sentiment, or that it doesn't see any problem with one of its hosts expressing these attitudes privately. Neither option is reassuring to audiences watching to see whether the sport's culture is genuinely evolving.

What's particularly interesting is that this controversy emerged precisely as Heated Rivalry was having its cultural moment. The show brings new fans into hockey spaces, many of them LGBTQ+ individuals who've never had positive experiences with hockey culture. And one of the most visible voices discussing the show is someone who privately dismisses these fans as frivolous based on their appearance and presumed identity.

This dynamic illustrates a core problem: cultural inclusion can't happen through top-down marketing initiatives or even through individual positive experiences. It requires that the entire ecosystem—including media voices, institutional policies, and community culture—genuinely evolve. If people like Browne and the new fans Heated Rivalry is bringing are going to feel genuinely welcome in hockey spaces, the sport needs to confront not just explicit discrimination but the casual prejudice that operates beneath the surface.

The Milano Cortina Context: Olympic Hockey as a Showcase

The timing of Heated Rivalry's cultural moment relative to the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milano Cortina is almost too perfect. The Olympics represent the sport's biggest global platform every four years. Athletes train for years to compete. National hockey organizations invest heavily in preparation. Media coverage expands dramatically. For a brief window, hockey occupies a more prominent position in the global sports conversation.

For the 2026 Games, this timing is particularly significant. The show has generated unprecedented mainstream interest in hockey, particularly among demographic groups that traditionally don't watch the sport. New fans will be tuning in to watch the Olympics, eager to see professional hockey competition at the highest level and potentially to see their favorite characters' home countries represented on the ice.

Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie, both of whom appear in Heated Rivalry, served as torch bearers for the Milano Cortina Olympics. This created a symbolic connection between the fictional narrative and the actual sporting event. Several athletes have publicly praised the show, creating positive messaging within the hockey community.

But here's the challenge: the Olympics are also an event where the sport's institutional policies become highly visible. Team compositions, uniforms, ceremonies, and statements made during the games all convey messages about who the sport welcomes and who it excludes. If the sport uses the Olympic moment to project an image of inclusivity while simultaneously implementing exclusionary policies like USA Hockey's trans restriction, that contradiction will be glaring to the new fans paying attention for the first time.

The opportunity is real. The sport could use the Milano Cortina moment to commit to meaningful change. It could publicly pledge to support openly gay players, to create dressing room standards that make space for LGBTQ+ athletes, and to stand against exclusionary policies. It could position itself as genuinely inclusive, not just performatively so.

Alternatively, the sport could squander this moment by maintaining the status quo—continuing to market itself as inclusive while operating systems that exclude. In that scenario, new fans drawn in by Heated Rivalry would quickly discover the gap between the sport's image and its reality.

Estimated data suggests that a majority of the audience reacted critically to the podcast's silence on the controversy, with some remaining supportive or neutral.

Women's Hockey as a Model: What Inclusion Actually Looks Like

Women's professional hockey offers a blueprint for what hockey can be when inclusion is built into institutional culture rather than added as an afterthought. The Premier Hockey Federation (previously known as the National Women's Hockey League, or NWHL) has, by all accounts, created significantly more inclusive spaces than men's professional hockey.

The difference isn't accidental. Women's sports have historically faced different cultural pressures and institutional constraints than men's sports. Without the century-plus of tradition that men's hockey carries, women's hockey had more flexibility in establishing cultural norms. Without the same levels of mainstream attention and investment, women's hockey didn't face the same pressure to conform to traditional hypermasculinity. The result is a sport where queer athletes have felt more welcome, where trans athletes have competed openly, and where LGBTQ+ representation is visible in both athlete and coaching communities.

Browne's experience playing in women's hockey versus his fear about men's hockey illustrates this distinction perfectly. In women's hockey, he was embraced and publicly celebrated. In men's hockey, the language and culture felt threatening. This isn't a coincidence—it reflects genuine structural differences in how the two versions of the sport operate.

For men's professional hockey to improve its inclusion, it might look to women's hockey not as a separate entity but as evidence that hockey itself can be inclusive. The sport's basic structure—the rules, the competition, the athleticism—doesn't require exclusionary culture. That culture is a choice, not an inevitability.

This has practical implications for the sport's future. If women's hockey continues to grow in visibility and professionalism, and if it maintains its inclusive culture, then the sport as a whole will gradually become more inclusive as women's version gains prominence. Young athletes will grow up in hockey culture shaped by women's teams and values. Male athletes who come up through mixed youth hockey will internalize more inclusive norms.

Heated Rivalry is drawing female fans in unprecedented numbers. These fans will discover women's professional hockey, which offers a fundamentally different experience of hockey culture. They'll compare what they see between men's and women's professional hockey, and they'll wonder why those differences exist. That questioning could drive change.

The Economic Argument: Why Inclusion Makes Business Sense

Aside from the ethical case for inclusion, there's a practical economic argument. Sports are businesses. Fanbases generate revenue through ticket sales, merchandise, media rights, and sponsorships. Expanding the fanbase—which is exactly what Heated Rivalry has accomplished—expands revenue potential.

The 20 percent increase in female hockey interest isn't just a cultural moment; it represents market expansion. Women's interest in sports has been growing steadily for decades, and hockey has historically captured relatively little of that market share. Heated Rivalry is changing this. Teams that recognize and actively cultivate female fans will benefit economically.

Similarly, LGBTQ+ communities represent a significant and lucrative demographic. They have disposable income, they're brand-loyal when organizations treat them well, and they actively support teams and athletes that embrace them. Any sport that excludes or marginalizes LGBTQ+ fans is leaving money on the table.

Moreover, inclusive organizations attract better talent and better employees. Athletes want to play for teams where they feel safe. Coaches want to work in organizations with positive cultures. Staff want to work for companies that align with their values. By creating genuinely inclusive environments, hockey organizations would make themselves more attractive as employers and more likely to recruit and retain the best talent.

Heated Rivalry has demonstrated that there's massive appetite for hockey when it's presented through the lens of authentic human storytelling rather than just athletic performance. The sport that figures out how to actually live up to the values the show represents will be the sport that captures this expanding market and maintains the attention of these new fans.

What It Takes to Actually Change Hockey Culture

Understanding the problem is necessary but insufficient. Actually changing hockey culture requires concrete steps. What would those look like?

First, address dressing room language directly. The NHL and individual teams should establish clear standards for what language is acceptable, enforce those standards consistently, and back them up with consequences. This means creating safe channels for athletes to report violations and ensuring that reporting doesn't result in retaliation.

Second, recruit and support openly gay players. The absence of openly gay players in the NHL isn't because they don't exist—it's because the sport has created an environment where coming out feels unsafe. Organizations could proactively support gay athletes and create mentorship programs pairing them with LGBTQ+ employees and community leaders.

Third, implement anti-discrimination policies with real enforcement mechanisms. The "Hockey Is For Everyone" initiative should be backed by actual policies that protect athletes and that hold the league, teams, and individual athletes accountable for violations.

Fourth, support trans athletes' participation. USA Hockey's exclusionary policy should be reversed. The sport should recognize that trans athletes are part of the hockey community and should support their participation at all levels.

Fifth, compensate and promote women's hockey appropriately. Women's hockey has built a genuinely inclusive culture. The sport should recognize this as a strength and invest in women's professional hockey with the same resources and attention it gives men's professional hockey.

Sixth, listen to queer athletes and community leaders. Create advisory boards and listening circles where LGBTQ+ hockey players, coaches, and fans can speak directly to league leadership about what needs to change.

None of these steps is novel or particularly complex. Other sports have implemented similar reforms. The question is whether hockey has the will to do so.

The Role of Media and Commentary: Building vs. Undermining Progress

Media voices shape how sports communities understand themselves and their values. Commentators, podcasters, journalists, and social media influencers all contribute to the narrative about hockey culture. When those voices actively undermine inclusion efforts—as the Empty Netters controversy illustrated—they make change harder.

Conversely, media voices that actively promote inclusion and hold institutions accountable can accelerate change. Sports journalism that covers LGBTQ+ issues seriously, that highlights the absence of openly gay players, that questions exclusionary policies—these voices create accountability.

Heated Rivalry itself is a form of media that's reshaping how people understand hockey. By centering a queer love story within professional hockey contexts, the show has normalized the idea that hockey and LGBTQ+ identity can coexist. It's asked audiences to root for queer characters and to see their stories as worth paying attention to.

But the show is also creating expectations. New fans drawn in by Heated Rivalry will expect the actual sport to be moving toward inclusion. When they discover that the sport's institutional policies are moving in the opposite direction, the disconnect will be jarring. Media voices that highlight this contradiction and demand change will be important.

Looking Forward: Can Hockey Deserve Its New Fans?

The question posed in the original article's headline is genuinely complex: "Does the sport deserve them?" By one measure, no. The sport has zero openly gay professional players. Its governing bodies are implementing exclusionary policies toward trans athletes. Its culture remains inhospitable to LGBTQ+ athletes and fans. The contradiction between the cultural moment and the institutional reality is stark.

But sports are also dynamic. They can change. Attitudes that seemed immovable 20 years ago have shifted. The presence of new fans, new pressure, and new attention can drive institutional change. The fact that Heated Rivalry has generated this moment is significant. The fact that it's drawing women, LGBTQ+ individuals, and young people to hockey creates a constituency that can demand change.

The sport has the Milano Cortina Olympics as a deadline. Within the next 18-24 months, hockey will showcase itself to a global audience. That's the moment when new fans will be paying attention most intensely. It's also the moment when the sport's values—both stated and revealed through policy and culture—will be most visible.

Hockey could use this moment to commit to genuine inclusion. It could pledge to support gay athletes, to create inclusive culture, and to reverse exclusionary policies. It could position itself as genuinely evolving rather than performing evolution.

Or it could squander the moment by maintaining the status quo, letting new fans discover the gap between image and reality, and ultimately losing the cultural momentum Heated Rivalry has created.

The choice, ultimately, is the sport's. But the pressure—from new fans, from media attention, from broader cultural expectations around inclusion—is on. Whether hockey answers that pressure with real change or defensive stagnation will define not just the sport's immediate future but its ability to maintain the fandom and cultural relevance that Heated Rivalry has temporarily granted it.

FAQ

What is the Heated Rivalry effect on hockey fandom?

The Heated Rivalry effect refers to the massive spike in hockey interest, particularly among women and LGBTQ+ audiences, following the HBO/Crave release of the series. The show centers on two closeted professional hockey players in a romantic relationship, and its cultural moment has increased female hockey interest by 20% in 60 days and significantly expanded the global fanbase. This has translated into increased ticket sales, merchandise revenue, and Olympic viewership.

How has Heated Rivalry changed the conversation around hockey and LGBTQ+ inclusion?

Heated Rivalry has created a cultural narrative centered on queer identity within professional hockey contexts, which contradicts the sport's actual institutional culture. The show has drawn new fans who expect hockey to be inclusive, while the sport itself maintains exclusionary policies and zero openly gay NHL players. This disconnect has highlighted the gap between hockey's marketing messages around inclusion and its actual practices.

Why are there no openly gay players in the NHL?

There are no openly gay players in the National Hockey League because professional men's hockey culture remains hostile to LGBTQ+ identity. Dressing room language, team culture, and institutional norms create an environment where coming out feels unsafe. As Harrison Browne explains, the homophobic, transphobic, and misogynist language common in men's hockey spaces discourages athletes from being openly authentic. This isn't due to the sport's rules but to its cultural values.

What are the key differences between men's and women's professional hockey in terms of LGBTQ+ inclusion?

Women's professional hockey has built genuinely inclusive cultures with visible LGBTQ+ representation among athletes and coaches, whereas men's professional hockey remains fundamentally exclusionary. Browne's experience illustrates this: she felt safe and celebrated in women's hockey but afraid of men's hockey spaces. This difference isn't accidental but reflects women's hockey's ability to establish inclusive norms without the weight of hypermasculine tradition.

What is USA Hockey's new policy on trans athletes?

In early 2025, USA Hockey reversed its inclusive 2019 policy and implemented a restriction requiring trans athletes to participate in programs designated by their sex assigned at birth. This means trans men cannot play in women's recreational or semi-professional leagues, effectively excluding many trans athletes from hockey spaces where they might otherwise belong. The policy takes effect April 1, 2025, and reflects external political pressure from the federal government.

How can hockey organizations demonstrate genuine commitment to LGBTQ+ inclusion?

Genuine inclusion requires multiple steps: establishing and enforcing clear standards for dressing room language, recruiting and supporting openly gay players, implementing anti-discrimination policies with real consequences, reversing exclusionary policies toward trans athletes, investing in women's professional hockey, and creating advisory structures where LGBTQ+ athletes can directly influence institutional decisions. The "Hockey Is For Everyone" initiative should be backed by actual policies and enforcement, not just marketing messaging.

What role does media coverage play in hockey's cultural evolution?

Media voices shape how hockey communities understand themselves and their values. Commentary that questions exclusionary policies, highlights institutional contradictions, and holds organizations accountable can accelerate change. Conversely, voices that undermine inclusion efforts, as the Empty Netters controversy illustrated, make change harder. As Heated Rivalry draws new fans, media outlets have responsibility to help those fans understand the gap between the show's values and the sport's institutional practices.

How does the Milano Cortina Olympics represent a critical moment for hockey's inclusion efforts?

The 2026 Winter Olympics provide hockey's biggest global platform, with new fans paying close attention for the first time. This is the moment when the sport's values—both stated and revealed through policy—will be most visible to its expanding audience. Hockey could use this moment to commit to genuine inclusion, or it could fail to live up to the cultural momentum Heated Rivalry has created, ultimately losing the fandom and relevance the show has granted it.

Conclusion: The Sport's Choice

Heated Rivalry has delivered something remarkable: it's brought genuine cultural attention to professional hockey through storytelling centered on queer identity and human authenticity. For a sport that's struggled to capture mainstream attention in many markets, this is an unprecedented opportunity. New fans are tuning in, women are discovering hockey in record numbers, and LGBTQ+ communities are engaging with the sport in ways they haven't before.

But the sport now faces a critical choice. It can use this moment to actually become the inclusive, diverse, progressive institution it claims to be through its marketing and public-facing initiatives. Or it can allow the gap between its image and its reality to widen, ultimately disappointing the new fans Heated Rivalry has brought and squandering a cultural moment that won't come around again.

The evidence is mixed. Women's professional hockey demonstrates that the sport can build genuine inclusion when it sets out to do so. But men's professional hockey, the prestigious tier where the NHL operates, remains fundamentally resistant to change. The absence of openly gay players, the exclusionary policies toward trans athletes, the language and culture of dressing rooms—these aren't accidents. They're the result of organizational choices and cultural values.

Changing these realities requires institutional commitment, not just marketing campaigns. It requires holding leadership accountable, supporting athletes who come out, establishing clear standards and consequences, and genuinely listening to LGBTQ+ athletes and community members about what needs to shift.

The Milano Cortina Olympics are coming. The cultural moment is now. The sport can answer this pressure with real change, or it can remain a place where queer athletes feel they must hide to survive. The fans that Heated Rivalry has brought are watching. And they're going to notice which choice hockey makes.

For the sport's sake, and for the athletes who deserve to be their authentic selves in the spaces they love, hockey needs to decide that genuine inclusion isn't a liability but a strength. It needs to recognize that the culture that drives queer athletes away is the same culture that makes the sport less of what it could be. And it needs to act on that recognition with urgency and commitment.

That's what the sport's new fans deserve. That's what hockey owes to the moment Heated Rivalry has created. The question is whether the sport will actually deliver.

Key Takeaways

• Heated Rivalry has increased female hockey interest by 20% in 60 days, demonstrating TV's power to reshape sports fandom demographics
• Zero openly gay NHL players exist, making professional men's hockey a notable outlier among major sports despite marketing inclusive messaging
• USA Hockey reversed inclusive trans policies in 2025, implementing sex-based restrictions that directly exclude trans athletes from recreational participation
• Women's professional hockey has built genuinely inclusive culture with visible LGBTQ+ representation, proving hockey itself can support inclusion when institutions commit to it
• The 2026 Milano Cortina Olympics represent a critical deadline for hockey to align its cultural narrative with meaningful institutional change

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