Far-right pundits like Ben Shapiro, Candace Owens, Franklin Graham, and others from the "manosphere" can always be counted on to zero in on—and condemn—any cultural offering that skews into queer territory, especially if it poses as a threat to their retrograde notions of masculinity. 

So what are they saying about "Heated Rivalry"? After all, the insanely popular six-episodes series about closeted hockey players is full of everything they hate—explicit gay sex, positive representations of same-sex love, and a huge buy-in from the "woke" media (the show currently holds a 99% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes). 

Well, to put it simply, they're saying...nothing.

I have made it my mission since the series premiered to chart conservative responses to the show, and here's the thing: It's just crickets, everywhere. And not just with pundits. A recent search of the Fox News website a full month after the show's premiere on HBO Max—and in the wake of a tsunami of coverage of the show on mainstream outlets ranging from "Good Morning America" to USA Today—yielded zilch. It's the same with Newsmax, OAN, The Daily Wire, etc. Even Trump, who can't help but weigh in on even the most banal entertainment news, has kept mum.

The popularity of this series has continued to balloon weeks after the first season ended, and the overwhelming fan reaction to its two leads, Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie (soon to be Olympic torch-bearers), has inspired Beatlemania comparisons. "Heated Rivalry" has become so entrenched in mainstream culture it recently merited a "Saturday Night Live" parody. So why does it continue to be such a taboo topic for the far right?

I have some thoughts. Well before the series aired, Rachel Reid's series of "hockey smut" romance novels on which the series is based drew a large fanbase of straight women, and not just from blue states. This demographic has embraced the series with the same rabid devotion, and these readers have since become Heated Rivalry's most effective publicists (they were even called out by Storrie and Hudson during their appearance on this year's Golden Globes). Women have saturated social media with their enthusiastic and wonderfully obsessive takes on the show, and they have even created a mind-bending new meme: Shooting videos of their husbands reacting to episodes of the show in real time. (Spoiler alert: they love it.)

Many straight men, as it turns out, don't seem to be threatened by the show's content. Hockey podcasts like What Chaos feature their hosts watching—and often having intense emotional reactions to—the show's episodes. Even Gary Bettman, the commissioner of the NHL—an organization whose institutionalized homophobia is a major subject of the show—can't say enough good things about "Heated Rivalry," which he confessed to binge-watching in one night. 

The show's take on masculinity runs deeply counter to the manosphere's cartoonish and toxic version. Its protagonists are high-performing, seriously competitive athletes who also happen to be kind, compassionate, and vulnerable. One of the two "jock" lead characters embodies all of those characteristics while still being frank about preferring a passive role in sex with another man. It doesn't hurt that the charming actors who portray them are 100% comfortable in their skin—and just as comfortable touching, kissing, and embracing each other in interview after interview.  

This is the opposite of the closet, where conservatives have always insisted homosexuality remain (which may explain why Grindr always crashes in cities hosting RNC gatherings). Homosexual love, the tragedy of hiding oneself in the closet, and even gay sexual dynamics have all become topics of conversation among people who probably hadn't focused on any of them a couple of months ago. These are conversations that I would argue our current government and its enablers never wanted us to have, let alone enjoy having. 

So what's a far-right pundit or news network to do? Denounce the show and risk alienating not only LGBTQ+ fans but a broad, and ever-increasing, swath of straight people? Risk unleashing the ire of the "moms" whose protective instincts toward the show and its actors are not to be reckoned with? Or join the bandwagon of support for the show and face the consequences of alienating their base?

It's a no-win situation for them, but I am convinced it is a big opportunity for everyone else. "Heated Rivalry" is not just a hugely popular television show. It has become one of those cultural touchstones that is changing public opinion in the way only the best kinds of "soft power" can. 

The far right's notions of what it means to be a "man" are hopelessly dated and increasingly dangerous to anyone who doesn't happen to fit into that narrow template. Thanks in large part to this modestly produced Canadian television series that came out of nowhere, these notions have never looked weaker than they do right now.

What if the likes of Shapiro, Graham, Carlson, and Owens—not to mention JD Vance and Trump—were forced to come out of this closet of their own making and respond to the show? My hunch is it doesn't matter whether their response would be negative or positive—or even if they simply deflect—because once they're directly implicated in the conversation, their strange, and frankly sad, assertions about alpha males, low testosterone, and the like will be seen for what they actually are: An idea of masculinity that is more performative than anything in "Heated Rivalry."