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The hate targeted at the 76ers’ rookie star for being his extroverted self has renewed conversations over entrenched homophobia in sports, especially among Black men
When the Philadelphia 76ers posted a composite photo of their roster ahead of the 2024-25 season, all but one of their players stared dead-eyed at the camera. The exception, showing practically all 32 teeth in a wide smile, was the first-year guard Jared McCain. The photo would come to be indicative of the 20-year-old’s image as he began his rookie year in the NBA.
This sentiment of smiling in a roster headshot surrounded by deadpanning teammates followed McCain, not only as a player who stands out for his skill and exuberance on the court, but also as a gleeful outsider amid the Very Serious Business that is professional sports. Now there have been eccentric players in the professional ranks prior to McCain. Think Dennis Rodman, who was constantly dogged by controversy due to past problematic statements, stylistic choices or “badly practiced” behaviors. However, McCain’s nonconformity has made him easily one of the most targeted players for hate and vitriol in today’s NBA, giving rise to the “Jared McCain Problem”. His biggest controversy to date is being himself.
Nick Nurse: Jared we need you to step it up!
Jared McCain in the Locker Room during Halftime down 25: pic.twitter.com/cxzhldibtx
At the onset of his professional career during the NBA draft in June, McCain, selected by Philadelphia with the 16th overall pick, crossed the stage to shake commissioner Adam Silver’s hand wearing glossy black nail polish. (“I had to do the nail polish, I went with a simple vibe,” he told the New York Times.) This lighthearted moment, however, sparked a wave of backlash, as fans flooded social media to comment not only on his nails but his perceived online persona. At the time of the draft, Jared McCain had 2.8m TikTok followers, a number that has since climbed to 3.6m. His content mostly consisted of dancing and lip-syncing – videos that had little to do with basketball. From his ubiquitous presence on the popular app, the online McCain began to overshadow his professional career before he’d even pulled on a 76ers jersey.
In an August appearance on Philadelphia teammate Paul George’s podcast, McCain reflected on the criticism, saying, “You get used to it at a certain point. I didn’t really like how just people talk about the nails, the TikToks, more than basketball.” He continued, “When they try and overshadow my hard work in basketball just by saying ‘the TikToks’ or ‘the nails’, that’s when I hate it. But it’s something you got to live with.”
During his draft announcement, ESPN aired a series of videos featuring McCain dancing and lip-syncing in lieu of his college highlights. A clip of this package went viral on X, and one user wrote, “This is ESPN NBA draft coverage from last night of Jared McCain who was drafted by the Philadelphia 76ers. Notice they show TikTok videos of him dancing and of his painted nails rather than highlights of him playing basketball,” he wrote, “This is embarrassing.”
Online hate and criticism are no strangers to the NBA, but in McCain’s case, they target everything but his game. Prior to suffering a torn meniscus earlier this month that required surgery, he was averaging 15.3 points per game (tops among first-year players) while emerging as the odds-on favorite to earn Rookie of the Year honors. McCain was a saving grace for an injury riddled Sixers team near the bottom of the standings, stepping up when star players Joel Embiid, Tyrese Maxey and George were out with injury, over time moving from the bench to the starting five. One X user wrote, “Jared McCain really got me to shut up about him being gay that boy can hoop.”
Indeed, basketball fans’ issue with McCain on a broader level has little to do with the fact that he dances on TikTok or paints his nails. These actions instead relay an underlying issue within sports culture: the pervasive homophobia that links these behaviors with being “gay” and stigmatizes them. McCain has long been plagued with the insult of being “zesty”, a derogatory term for someone who’s gay or unmasculine; in layman’s terms “fruity”. If you were to search “Jared McCain Zesty”, TikTok shows that there have been more than one million posts made in relation to this phrase.
The unconscionable level of hate McCain receives on the assumption that he is unmasculine or queer is a reminder of the league’s deeper cultural issues, including its entrenched homophobia. McCain, notably, isn’t “out”, and his social media suggests he has a girlfriend. “The hate is funny because it’s usually grown men most of the time and it’s like you’re a grown man just hating on a kid,” McCain told Complex during his college days at Duke. Yet the vitriol he faces is particularly jarring when contrasted with the love his game receives.
Toxic masculinity has long been embedded in sports culture, particularly in the hypermasculine realms of basketball and American football. It demands that male athletes adhere to an aged view of virility – marked by aggression, emotional restraint and an uncompromising emphasis on dominance. It’s expected for these behaviors to be carried off the court, too. This societal pressure forces athletes to suppress vulnerability, fostering a culture where emotional and personal expression is stigmatized, and mental health struggles are dismissed, especially among Black men. At the core of this construct lies an expectation for male athletes to embody a hardened exterior and a ruthless, dominant interior – a “kill or be killed” mentality, often described as tapping into their “inner dog”. Jared McCain, however, defies this archetype entirely.
The league has recently become privy to toxic and violent media and fan culture, as stars like LeBron James and Kevin Durant have taken time off of social media due to the criticism of their character and athleticism. But if there’s one thing that’s gone unchecked in sports culture, especially against the rise of sports betting, is the failure to recognize athletes’ humanity – even while celebrating their performance on the court. This reflex has become amplified amid McCain’s breakout rookie campaign and has awakened this construct that allows fans to be fans all while dismissing athletes’ personhood.
The criticism directed at McCain cannot be reduced to his decision to paint his nails. Instead, it reflects a deeper discomfort as he continues to challenge traditional masculinity in sports culture. Through behaviors like dancing on TikTok and singing online, McCain – whether intentionally or not – questions the rigid paradigm of what an athlete “should” be. While similar actions by other players have attracted less scrutiny, McCain’s high visibility across both sports and social media amplifies the backlash. The criticism has become so pervasive that even longtime NBA star Carmelo Anthony publicly reminded fans to focus on McCain’s identity as an athlete above all else.
“Let them boys be themselves, man. Let them do what they do and have fun like they do it differently than we did it. We can’t be mad at that. That’s two totally different generations,” Anthony said in a conversation with Complex. He continued: “Jared McCain, if you gotta keep painting them fingernails, man, he’s still hooping.”
The disproportionate outrage surrounding McCain reflects a wider cultural and generational tension within the world of sports, especially as the NBA’s newest class has been plagued by an “it just isn’t what it used to be” narrative to account for declining TV ratings. The “Jared McCain Problem” – a challenge to toxic masculinity, homophobia, and the paradox of hating the player while loving their game – may be the kind of problem the league needs.
Tiana Randall is a creative producer and editor from New York. They have written about the intersection of culture and fashion for Vogue, i-D and New York magazine.
