Amy Hunt, the British sprinter who holds two European titles in the individual sprint events, launched a pointed rebuttal against a new advertising campaign featuring American actress Sydney Sweeney. The commercial, produced for the U.S. betting firm Novig, depicts the Euphoria star scantily clad, draped only in sports equipment, and has sparked a wave of criticism from women across the sporting world. In the wake of her fourth‑place finish in the 200‑metre final at the inaugural World Athletics Ultimate Championship in Budapest, Hunt turned her platform on the advertisement, stating on the BBC that "Sydney Sweeney, this is what women in sport look like." She went on to enumerate the tangible metrics of elite performance – a winning time of 21.4 seconds recorded by Melissa Jefferson‑Wooden – and to underline the physical realities behind those numbers: "muscles, hard work, sweat, blood, tears.
This is a beautiful evening." Hunt emphasized that the image presented in Sweeney’s spot does not reflect the day‑to‑day experience of female athletes. "Obviously we've seen in the last 24 hours everything about the Sydney Sweeney ad, and when you're a woman in sport, it's not pretty. It's not glamorous.
It's not sexy all the time, definitely. There are low moments too.
Even turning up to this championship, my period started yesterday, so that's not really ideal, and that's not ever what you try to really plan for," she explained. Her candid remarks highlighted the often‑overlooked physiological and emotional challenges that female competitors face, from menstrual cycles to injury setbacks, none of which fit neatly into a glossy marketing narrative. Hunt was not the only athlete to voice disapproval.
Former U.S. Olympic gymnast Gracie Kramer posted a video of herself training, captioned, "Idk what Sydney Sweeney was doing but this is what a woman in sport looks like," directly contrasting the commercial’s stylised sexualisation with the grit of real training. Australian boxing champion Skye Nicolson added a nuanced perspective on social media, writing, "There's a big difference between looking 'sexy' because you do sport compared to using sex to sell 'sport'." Nicolson’s comment underscores a broader debate about agency versus exploitation: athletes may feel confident and attractive as a by‑product of their dedication, yet they should not be reduced to sexual props for commercial gain.
The backlash prompted Sweeney to respond in a subtle manner. She shared a series of images from ESPN Magazine’s BODY Issue on her Instagram stories, featuring celebrated athletes such as Serena Williams and Megan Rapinoe in tasteful, artistic nude photography. While the BODY Issue celebrates the athletic form as a testament to strength and dedication, critics argue that Sweeney’s choice of images does not address the core issue – the original advert’s reliance on sexualised imagery rather than authentic representation of athleticism. The controversy taps into a long‑standing tension between sports marketing and the portrayal of female athletes.
Historically, advertisers have leaned on sexual appeal to attract audiences, often at the expense of showcasing the skill, discipline, and perseverance that define elite competition. In recent years, there has been a growing push for more authentic storytelling that highlights women’s achievements without resorting to objectification.
Campaigns such as Nike’s "Dream Crazier" and the International Olympic Committee’s gender‑equality initiatives have attempted to shift the narrative toward empowerment, yet the persistence of ads like Sweeney’s suggests that change is still uneven. From a sociocultural standpoint, the incident also raises questions about the responsibility of public figures in shaping societal attitudes. Sydney Sweeney, a high‑profile actress with a substantial following, wields influence that extends beyond entertainment into the realm of consumer behavior. When she participates in a campaign that reduces female athleticism to a visual gimmick, the message reverberates to fans, young athletes, and sponsors alike.
Conversely, the swift and vocal response from athletes like Hunt, Kramer, and Nicolson demonstrates the growing agency of women in sports to challenge misrepresentations and demand respect. In practical terms, the debate may affect future collaborations between betting companies, entertainment personalities, and sports organisations.
Betting firms, eager to tap into the excitement of live events, often seek to humanise their brand through celebrity endorsements. However, the backlash suggests that aligning with athletes—or even actors portraying athletes—requires a nuanced approach that honours the authenticity of sport. Brands might consider partnering directly with athletes to co‑create content that reflects training routines, personal stories, and the realities of competition, thereby fostering a more credible and inclusive image.
The episode also serves as a reminder that the language used to describe women's sports matters. Hunt’s reference to concrete performance metrics—time, muscles, sweat, blood, tears—offers a stark contrast to the vague, aesthetic focus of the Novig advert.
By foregrounding measurable achievement, she reframes the conversation around what truly defines a sportsperson: dedication, resilience, and the willingness to push physical limits, regardless of gender. In conclusion, the uproar over Sydney Sweeney’s betting commercial underscores a broader cultural shift. Female athletes are increasingly unwilling to accept tokenistic or sexualised portrayals and are demanding that their stories be told with honesty and depth.
As more voices join the conversation—from sprinters to gymnasts to boxers—the pressure mounts on advertisers and sponsors to evolve. The hope is that future campaigns will celebrate women in sport for the extraordinary competitors they are, showcasing the sweat, the triumphs, and even the low moments, rather than reducing them to mere eye‑catching props.