Born and raised in Kansas City, my loyalty to the Chiefs is unshakable. I cheered them on through years of obscurity and heartbreak when wins were as rare as a quiet Sunday at Arrowhead Stadium. It wasn’t until I moved to the East Coast for college that my dedication to them was questioned. And who did all this questioning? If you guessed the genre of men whose entire personality revolves around the NFL, congrats— you just scored a touchdown in the accuracy zone.
Picture this: It’s Sunday. The air is thick with the smell of buffalo wings, and the bar hums with pre-game energy. You’re in your jersey, ready to unleash some strategic yelling at the screen as if the coach himself might hear your advice. Suddenly, someone leans over with a smirk and asks, “Oh, are you here for the halftime show?”
Let’s address the elephant in the room: being a female football fan often feels like an endless audition where you must recite a detailed TED Talk on your team’s roster to prove you belong. Spoiler alert: we’re not here for the snacks (though, yes, we’ll happily eat them).
So, what does it mean to be a female football fan in today’s world? It means knowing the game inside out: breaking down zone defenses, calling out a pass interference before the refs do, and explaining why Travis Kelce is America’s boyfriend right now. (It’s the Taylor Swift effect, obviously.)
But it also means enduring a relentless cycle of:
“Do you even know what a first down is?”
“Who’s your favorite player? Well, besides the quarterback.”
“Let me guess, you’re a Joe Burrow fan?”
*Insert their shocked face when you school them on the intricacies of a screen pass.*
Ladies, we’ve all been there. You’re publicly cheering and invested in the game, and someone decides your knowledge is up for debate. Meanwhile, Brad next to you just yelled “Touchdown!” during a field goal attempt, and no one even blinked.
Here’s the thing: fandom isn’t defined by gender; it’s defined by passion. For some of us, it’s about tracking fantasy leagues like we’re general managers in the making. For others, it’s about rocking our team merch and building a community through the highs and lows of the season. We’re not just in the game but reshaping it, one unapologetic cheer at a time.
And yet, when a woman proudly declares she’s an NFL fan, especially if she’s repping a team like the Chiefs, the responses are as predictable as a bad call in overtime:
“Bandwagon, for sure.”
“Name three players.”
“Will they stop showing Taylor Swift when I’m just trying to watch the game?”
*Remember, Swift appears on screen for around 30 seconds during a game. On average, NFL games last 3 hours and 12 minutes. This means that it is 0.26% of your precious game, Brad.*
Here’s what makes me mad: when women see men engaging in stereotypically “feminine” interests, we often celebrate them for being sensitive, open, and sweet. But when men see women embracing traditionally “male” spaces, they often feel threatened, turning defensive, territorial, and dismissive.
Why is it that when men embrace a hobby, it is celebrated as sacred territory, but when women step into the same space, we are forced to justify our presence? Football isn’t a men’s club. It is a sport. And sports, like passion, creativity, and even buffalo wings, are for everyone.
You do not need to know every stat, rule, or line on the field to belong. What matters is that you are there, passionate, energetic, and unapologetically fierce, cheering just as loudly and loving the game as deeply as anyone else. You are a fan of the league, just like they are. So why does society keep using fandom as yet another way to diminish women?
Next Sunday, remind yourself of this when you call out a blitz before the commentators can. You are part of a movement rewriting the playbook of what it means to be a fan. Outdated stereotypes have no place in the game, nor do the barriers they try to impose. You are here to stay whether you are rocking heels or cleats, nachos, or stats.
When women passionately celebrate the work of someone they admire, like making friendship bracelets, crying at the end of a concert, or knowing the name of every song they’ve released (yes, this is about Taylor), it is mocked. But it’s applauded when men paint their faces, shout at the top of their lungs at a television screen, and memorize every statistic of their favorite players.
In the wise words of the female icon who has captivated the National Football League and brought thousands of new viewers to their games:
“I’m so sick of running as fast as I can
Wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man
And I’m so sick of them coming at me again.
’Cause if I was a man
Then I’d be the man.”
Swift captured it perfectly. It is time to challenge the double standards, celebrate enthusiasm equally, and embrace being a fan in all forms without judgment or the need for validation.
Let’s go, girls.