In a desperate attempt to regain relevance after years of controversy and legal defeats, Lia Thomas—the poster child for the erosion of women’s sports—launched a delusional manifesto that finally broke the camel’s back.
In a rambling social media post reeking of entitlement, Thomas announced: “I’m a real woman. I’m a woman, just like every other member of the women’s team, and that’s why I should be allowed to compete in the 2028 Olympics.”
Thomas’s team fired off a predictable complaint to ESPN—”This is transphobia at its worst”—but the tide has turned. Sponsors like Speedo, which dropped them in 2022, have issued statements supporting the team, and even neutral voices like Michael Phelps have chimed in: “Protect women. Stop this.”
As the 2028 Games in Los Angeles approach, USA Swimming’s announcement sends a clear message: No more stolen glory. No more biological men posing as trailblazers. Women’s sport isn’t a charity event for identity politics—it’s a meritocracy earned in the pool.
The U.S. women’s swimming team, fresh off a dominant performance at Paris 2024, erupted in anger. Led by Olympic gold medalist Torri Huske and relay star Erika Brown, the team issued a joint statement that cut like a knife: “If he competes, we will withdraw. Period.” A video shared on The Statement was viewed more than 2 million times within hours, with teammates like Brown adding, “Simone Biles may call critics ‘sick people,’ but we are tired of watching our dreams crumble.”
Enter USA Swimming, the sport’s governing body, which wasted no time in making a shocking decision that should have been made years ago. In a special board meeting called just 90 minutes after Thomas’s inauguration, the federation voted unanimously to formally remove her from the national team, effective immediately, and impose a lifetime ban from any Olympic trials or international events.
This isn’t just a slap in the face—it’s a sledgehammer to Thomas’s ego and the activist agenda she represents. Thomas didn’t “win” gold in the 500-yard freestyle. He exploited a loophole in hormone regulations so that no amount of testosterone suppression could level the playing field.
His times were faster in some events than those of Katie Ledecky—Ledecky, a seven-time Olympic medalist who trains like a machine. It’s no wonder Gaines, who stood on that infamous podium, suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder from the experience: “He celebrated while we comforted ourselves. Now, with this ban, justice is free.”
Thomas’s team fired off a predictable complaint to ESPN—”This is transphobia at its worst”—but the tide has turned. Sponsors like Speedo, which dropped them in 2022, have issued statements supporting the team, and even neutral voices like Michael Phelps have chimed in: “Protect women. Stop this.”
For the American women who threatened to boycott, this is reparation. “We swim for our sisters, not against impostors,” Huske wrote. Thomas? She can fight all she wants on the outside, but her fantasy of being a “real woman” ends there. In Gaines’s words: “The water is now clear—fair play prevails.”
