Why the Grammys are the Gay Super Bowl

Before you read: The Grammys are this Sunday, and we made you a ballot. Download it here and settle some scores with your friends.

Once a year, on a Sunday night during the depths of winter, men across the US gather to watch their heroes duke it out on one of television’s most-watched events. Some come decked out in merch, others bring elaborate, crafted appetizers. There will be shouting at the television, live-tweeting, and that one guy in the back talking too loudly, who keeps getting hushed. After hours of waiting, plenty of commercials, and several show-stopping musical performances, a winner will finally be crowned, and a magnificent trophy will be awarded to the victor. 

No, I’m not describing the Super Bowl, but rather the Grammy Awards, although they have certainly been dubbed “the gay Super Bowl” in the past. Despite attracting very different audiences and championing very different sets of celebrities, the Grammys and the Super Bowl really aren’t that different. Both draw legions of fervent fans cheering for their favorites, both incorporate their own theatrics and traditions, and both ultimately end with a set of winners and a set of losers. 

So why, stereotypically, do queer people gravitate away from football, and why have they latched onto a music awards show instead? Well, the answer lies, at least in part, in the historical precedents set by the institutions of sport and music. 

Pop stars showed up. Sports didn't.

“Sports, while getting better, have traditionally been hostile towards queer people,” music journalist Alim Kheraj tells Grindr. “You can see this play out in the fact that there are so few openly queer sports stars.” Kheraj’s point seems especially relevant given the recent success of Heated Rivalry, a TV show about queer hockey players who feel unable to come out given the male sports world’s resistance to LGBTQ+ athletes. 

Alternatively, “the self-expression inherent in music opens up a space for queer people to also express themselves,” Kheraj continues. “Pop stars, especially women in pop, have actively supported the queer community.” Kheraj, who has written about music and queerness for outlets like GQ, The Guardian, and Gay Times, cites Madonna including a “The Facts About AIDS” leaflet in her 1989 album Like a Prayer as a prime example of this link. Britney Spears’ support of marriage equality, Lady Gaga’s unbothered response to being called a “hermaphrodite,” and Cardi B’s recent showcasing of her trans styling team are others. 

Of course, for many queer people, their aversion to sports is a bit more guttural. Music writer Anupa Otiv claims “gym class trauma” as the reason she isn’t in a hurry to watch the Super Bowl. “For many years, I associated sports with punishment, so I had no interest in watching them,” she says. “And while I have reframed that narrative as an adult, I still think there’s a surface-level performative masculinity present in sports fandoms that doesn’t exist in the same way with music fandoms.”

Finding Yourself In Fandom

Growing up queer, many of us feel a deep sense of otherness—one that is not assuaged in the rank-and-file training structure and he-man bravado often present in team sports. Isolated, we long to find community and discover ourselves. Often, a pop music fandom offers both. 

“Culturally, when we think about why young queer people latch onto musicians, it’s because they do not see themselves or their identities reflected in mainstream media or sports,” Tyler Baldor, Ph.D., a sociologist at Bryn Mawr College specializing in queer music spaces, tells Grindr. “Music fandoms revel in emotional vulnerability, aesthetics, and theatricality, which can speak to the queer condition.” 

Baldor also cites the work of queer theorist David Halperin, who argued that as queer people, we deconstruct and reassemble bits of heterosexual media to create our own. We flock to musicians, rearranging snippets of lyrics, on-stage personas, and fantastical fashions into versions of ourselves, all while connecting (both online and in person) with like-minded stans. 

“To be on Lady Gaga’s Tumblr back in 2010 was to truly be alive. It’s where I found my first music fandom community,” Otiv remembers. “Finding people who love something the way you do is such a rare and beautiful thing. Online fandoms saved me at a time when I felt deeply alone and misunderstood.”

Of course, the Little Monster fandom comes with its own perils.. “I went to the Monster Ball in Atlantic City when I was 16,” Otiv says, “And someone doing the ‘Bad Romance’ choreo accidentally punched me in the face. I had never been so happy to ice my face.”

Stan Culture is a Contact Sport

This fervent, all-encompassing, and choreo-fueled passion for a pop star is what makes the Grammys such a big night for gay people, much the same way the Super Bowl is for die-hard, life-long sports fans. 

“People are naturally drawn to things with an element of competition,” Kheraj cites as one reason why queer people are drawn to the Grammys in particular, “And in the era of stan culture, being a fan has become a competitive sport.” If you love Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, or Ariana Grande, you want to see them standing on the Grammys stage holding that Album of the Year trophy at the end of the night. 

But the Swifties vs. Bey Hive drama is only one part of the Grammys’ draw. “Mostly, award shows are camp,” Kheraj continues. “It’s pure pageantry, with the red carpets and outfits and performances. And in the reaction cam era, we’re eager to see if there’s any drama that might unfold, too. It’s basically a soap opera.” Lord knows that gays love camp. 

Showing Up Together

Most of all, though, the Grammys offer queer people a “collective emotional experience,” according to Baldor. Especially in an increasingly fractured world where humans interact less and less in person, there is power in gathering in a room with your friends to experience the thrills of victory and the agonies of defeat. It’s that shared sense of meaning and emotion that brings together both fans of the New England Patriots and fans of Addison Rae.

So, whether you’re attending a Super Bowl party, a Grammys party, or both this year, use it as an opportunity to connect, but please clear some space before you launch into your Gaga choreography.