WHEN SKY Sports introduced Halo, it was presented as a step toward inclusion through a TikTok campaign that featured pastel-toned short-form videos blending wellness trends and sports highlights. Marketed as a space designed “for women,” it promised visibility and a new approach to sports coverage. However, the rollout quickly sparked backlash, as many women fans criticized the campaign for reinforcing stereotypes about how women engage with sports

Instead of feeling seen, many women felt stereotyped and misrepresented as it positioned that women’s sports need a parallel platform, rather than being integrated into mainstream sports coverage. 

The backlash also revealed a deeper issue: despite women making up half of global sports fans, sports media still assumes they engage mainly for lifestyle appeal or celebrity culture.

Though Halo unfolded in the United Kingdom, the pattern feels familiar in the Philippines. Women fill UAAP arenas, dominate volleyball discourse online, and celebrate national victories. Yet, women are still treated as a niche audience whose engagement supposedly needs to be “rebranded” through lifestyle-driven marketing or stereotypical appeal.

When inclusion becomes insult

In today’s time, women are already part of sports, whether it be watching, analyzing, or playing. Sports Management professor and former Ateneo Taekwondo team captain Eirenne Lumasang noted, “There may be [women] representation now, but it often confines [them] to a narrow definition of what a woman in sports is supposed to be.”

Halo became a real-world example of this “narrow definition,” where inclusion reinforced the stereotypes it claimed to challenge.

While the platform claimed to elevate women’s sports, its execution reflected a broader trend in gender-targeted media: segmentation instead of integration. Research shows that women athletes are frequently framed through emotion and inspiration rather than technical analysis. Visibility exists, but often without depth.

Criticism intensified because Halo’s promotional materials relied on lifestyle-coded content: pairing sports clips with wellness-inspired visuals, alongside simplified highlight reels. For many fans, this framing suggested that women needed sports to be softened, stylized, or domesticated to be appealing.

Lumasang echoed this concern, explaining, “When coverage [targeted towards women] focuses too much on lifestyle or aesthetics, it can feel patronizing because it shifts attention away from  the athletic performance.”

Women fans and journalists argued they did not need a stylized version of coverage—they wanted seriousness and substance. By assuming women required a distinct format, Halo relied on generalized ideas of interest rather than acknowledging existing engagement.

Performative inclusion creates visible gestures without redistributing authority or narrative control. Halo failed not because women reject visibility, but because visibility was framed as separation. Rather than expanding mainstream coverage to fully include women, the platform placed women’s sports in a parallel channel with different tones, expectations, and priorities.

This misreading is not isolated. It reflects a global pattern—including in Philippine sports media.

From bleachers to broadcast booths

In the Philippines, women athletes become highly visible during historic milestones. Hidilyn Diaz’s Olympic gold, the Filipinas’ World Cup qualification, and UAAP women’s volleyball consistently dominate online feeds—yet this attention often fades once the moment passes, revealing a cycle of intense spotlight followed by relative silence.

Studies show that women’s sports receive less sustained coverage than men’s sports and are often framed through human-interest narratives rather than performance analysis. The issue is not the lack of women athletes but the absence of consistent coverage that sustains public engagement. 

This pattern is also reflected in how sports media frames athletes:, women are amplified when they have achieved something extraordinary, then sidelined during the everyday grind that builds legitimacy. “Coverage of male athletes focuses on strength, skill, and performance, while coverage of female athletes often centers on physique and personal life,” Lumasang noted. 

Lumasang shared that, in the Philippine sports media landscape, this pattern appears in how stories about women athletes are often framed through personal narratives–highlighting sacrifice, inspiration, or appearance–rather than consistent tactical analysis of their performance.

Beyond athlete portrayal, media framing also shapes how audiences are perceived. Even as women drive online engagement and debate plays across Philippine sports communities, media coverage often positions men as the “default” fan, shaping whose voices are amplified in commentary and leadership. 

These patterns of media framing do more than misrepresent women–they shape who holds authority within sports discourse. Misrepresentation not only alienates but also reinforces structural exclusion. When women are treated as topics of coverage instead of as voices shaping analysis, commentary, and decision-making, their authority remains conditional. “Women have spent decades fighting for our place in sports, yet we’re still treated as secondary,” Lumasang expressed. Without women occupying roles as analysts, commentators, and decision-makers, representation risks remaining visible but powerless.

Listening, not labelling

Sky Sports’ Halo and the patterns within Philippine sports media reveal an underlying flaw: inclusion built on assumption rather than listening. As Lumasang explains, sporting culture is shaped by lived experiences, social environments, and media representations–forces that influence who belongs in sports. When the media repeatedly frames women as peripheral, those beliefs become culturally reinforced.

Meaningful inclusion, therefore, depends on consistent coverage and deeper, performance-focused reporting, not just symbolic visibility. Media exposure influences sponsorships, institutional support, and athlete development, determining whether women’s sports are treated as central to the sporting landscape or as occasional spectacles. 

Moreover, these shifts must recognize women not only as athletes but also as knowledgeable fans. When women fans are recognized as core audiences rather than marketing niches, their expertise becomes visible rather than sidelined.

In the Philippines’ context, this could mean more consistent coverage of women’s leagues beyond championship runs, regular tactical analysis of women’s competitions, and stronger editorial commitment to reporting women’s sports with the same analytical depth applied to men’s games.

“Real progress happens when women are not only visible as athletes but also present as decision-makers, commentators, and leaders shaping the narrative,” Lumasang emphasized. Without structural changes in how sports are covered and discussed, inclusion risks remaining symbolic rather than transformative. Visibility alone does not guarantee equity, and inclusion that leaves decision-making power untouched cannot truly level the playing field.