Megan Rapinoe is the bitter, jealous, ugly lesbian who can’t stand to see American men win without her sour approval stamped all over it. She launched her pathetic attack on the men’s Olympic hockey team the second they hoisted that gold medal.
Why? Because they celebrated like normal winners—chugging beers in the locker room with Kash Patel and taking a congratulatory call from President Trump. Instead of showing basic respect for heroes who earned every ounce of that glory, she whined that they “ruined it” by getting “co-opted by a clown.” That is straight-up envy dripping from every word she spits.
MEGAN RAPINOE – A forgotten NOTHING
Her soccer career is finished. She never dominated the way the men’s hockey players just did. Her highlight reel is mostly kneeling during the anthem, protesting, and alienating half the country. Now she hides behind a podcast microphone, vomiting negativity because the spotlight abandoned her years ago.
She is unhappy. Her entire existence is one long complaint loop with no off switch. She is miserable because retirement proved she was never as essential as her ego told her. She is jealous of the tight brotherhood, the raw laughs, the pure unfiltered joy those men share after grinding through years of sacrifice.
She is ugly—not just the permanent scowl etched on her face, but the twisted, rotten spirit that turns every triumph into something to tear apart.
She weaponizes her lesbian identity like a club to bash straight male success, acting as if their victory steals something from her. It kills her that she isn’t one of the boys. It’s bad enough that she isn’t really one of the girls either.
Shine on spotlight on how small and petty she really is. She lectures about Patels “decorum” in the locker room while conveniently forgetting her own endless history of trash-talking refs, opponents, and even her own fans. The hypocrisy is suffocating.
The men’s team popped champagne, cracked jokes about Trump inviting the women’s team too, and lived in the moment. That is healthy, red-blooded American celebration. Rapinoe would have turned it into a TED Talk on systemic privilege and microaggressions. She hates their freedom because she chained herself to ideology long ago and can’t escape.
This isn’t about hockey for her. This is personal. A washed-up activist resents winners because she can no longer compete among them. She trashes literal gold medalists for daring to stand next to patriots like Trump and Patel.
Pathetic does not even cover it.
Let her rot in that envy. The men’s hockey team stands tall as proof that real excellence never asks for her blessing. They are champions. She is a fading loudmouth screaming from the cheap seats. America cheers victory. We reject her endless grievances. She represents nothing but division, resentment, and spiritual decay. The team represents strength, unity, and hard-won triumph. There is no comparison. She loses the instant she opens her mouth.
Megan Rapinoe hates those men’s hockey players because she’ll never be one of the boys no matter how hard she tries to muscle into their world. She can munch all the carpet she wants, she can scream about equity and locker room access until her voice cracks, but she is not a boy and that simple biological fact is killing her inside. Those guys just won Olympic gold, popped champagne, chugged beers with Kash Patel, laughed at Trump’s joke on speakerphone, and lived in pure unfiltered male brotherhood triumph. No apologies, no virtue signaling, no lectures on decorum. Just raw victory and joy.Rapinoe sees that and seethes. Her own career ended in protests and kneeling, not unbreakable team bonds forged in sweat and ice.
She lectures them for “ruining” their moment by getting “co-opted by a clown,” but what she really can’t stomach is how effortlessly they belong in that locker room chaos while she never will. She claims she’d never allow someone like Patel in her space, yet she weaponizes her identity to demand entry into theirs. It’s envy dressed up as principle. She resents their masculinity, their easy camaraderie, their refusal to let politics neuter their celebration. Deep down, it’s not about Trump or Patel. It’s about the fact that no amount of activism erases the line she can never cross. She wants to be part of the boys’ club so bad it eats her alive, but biology says no, and that rejection fuels every bitter word she spits.
Proverbs 14:30 A heart at peace gives life to the body but envy rots the bones.
This verse captures Rapinoe perfectly. Envy does not merely wound the target. It consumes the envious person alive. A peaceful heart builds vitality and strength. Constant jealousy gnaws away at the bones, hollowing out the body and soul until nothing remains but bitterness and decay. That is why she appears and sounds so wretched. The rot is deep, self-inflicted, and irreversible.
LET US PRAY:
Lord, protect the men’s Olympic hockey team from the venom of miserable dykes like Megan Rapinoe. Shield their well-deserved victory from her jealousy and spite. Preserve the purity of their celebration and the unbreakable bond of their brotherhood. Block every drop of her poisonous envy from reaching their joy. Let them continue to stand as shining examples of American grit and excellence while she withers into total irrelevance. In Jesus name we pray, amen.
