By Sarah Turner, Sports editor 

“No one watches women’s sports.” We’ve all heard that line at one point or another. And lately, the anti-women’s sports club seems louder than ever. 

Growing up outside of Washington, D.C., I had a front-row seat to the rise of women’s sports. My family were longtime supporters of D.C.’s National Women’s Soccer League club, the Washington Spirit. I attended my first Spirit match in 2017, when the team played at Maureen Hendricks Field in Maryland, an hour outside the city, in a stadium that held just 3,200 fans. 

Now, I watch that same club sell out Audi Field, the downtown home of D.C. United, with a capacity of 20,000. 

Needless to say, especially growing up as an athlete, women’s sports have mattered to me for a very long time. 

So imagine my exhilaration watching the United States women’s hockey team make their run at the Winter Olympics this year. Since the women’s tournament was introduced in 1998, the U.S. women have medaled in every single competition, winning eight medals total, including three golds. 

The standard is excellence. Nothing less. 

This year’s team went undefeated on their path to gold, outscoring opponents 33-2 across seven games. They sealed the championship with an overtime win against Canada, a performance that was nothing short of dominant. As if that weren’t enough, women’s hockey in the United States is now entering a new era with the creation of a true professional league in the PWHL. 

Just days later, the United States men’s hockey team accomplished the same feat, capturing the country’s first men’s gold medal in the sport since 1980, also clinched in overtime against Canada. 

Both victories sparked nationwide celebration, moments of collective joy at a time when unity feels increasingly rare. 

In that spirit, President Donald Trump called the men’s team to congratulate them and invite them to the White House immediately after the win. 

So why, at the pinnacle of achievement for both teams, did he feel the need to joke that he would also “have to” invite the women? And why did the entire men’s locker room laugh? 

After all, both teams accomplished the exact same thing, cementing American hockey’s legacy on the world’s biggest stage. One invitation sounded like an honor. The other sounded like an obligation. 

And that difference still says more than it should. 

What could have been an opportunity for the men’s team to stand beside their women counterparts, to use their platform to elevate, not diminish, slipped quietly away. 

Young women who play and love hockey will remember this moment. They will remember what was said, what was laughed at, and what those laughs implied. And they will learn, far too early, how their achievements are measured at the highest level. 

Why are women athletes so easily dismissed? Mocked? Turned into punchlines? And why has that been allowed to feel normal for so long? 

Because normalizing disrespect is easier than confronting inequality. And because too often, women are expected to prove their worth over and over, while men are simply assumed to have it. 

All of this is to say: the women’s team declined the White House invitation. The official reason provided was scheduling conflicts, but maybe they decided they didn’t “have to” be there. 

And honestly? That might be the most powerful statement of all.