The swimming world is reeling from a bombshell statement by Olympic gold medalist Caeleb Dressel, who declared he would walk away from the 2028 Los Angeles Games if transgender swimmer Lia Thomas is allowed to compete in the men’s category. In a heated social media post that quickly went viral, Dressel didn’t hold back, questioning whether the decision was an attempt to “humiliate us men” and adding a provocative line: “I’ll make her pregnant if she competes on the men’s team.” The remark, laced with sarcasm and frustration, ignited immediate backlash for its insensitivity, but it underscored the deep divisions over transgender inclusion in elite sports.
Dressel, a nine-time Olympic gold medalist known for his dominance in freestyle and butterfly events, has been vocal about fairness in swimming since Thomas’s controversial wins in the women’s NCAA championships back in 2022. Thomas, who transitioned from competing as Will Thomas in the men’s division to the women’s, shattered records and sparked debates on biological advantages. Now, with recent International Olympic Committee (IOC) rulings barring transgender women who went through male puberty from women’s events, Thomas faces a potential shift to the men’s category—or an open category that she has yet to embrace.
The timing couldn’t be more charged. Just days ago, reports surfaced of an IOC decision effectively banning Thomas from the women’s events at the 2028 Games, forcing her to either compete against men or sit out. Male swimmers like Dressel and Ryan Murphy have publicly backed the move, arguing it protects competitive integrity. Dressel’s outburst came amid speculation that his times could be challenged if Thomas enters the men’s pool, though experts note her pre-transition performances were far from elite against biological males. Still, the idea of a former women’s champion diving into men’s races has fueled fears of disrupted fields and eroded morale among top athletes.
Shockwaves rippled through the community faster than a sprint freestyle. Within minutes of Dressel’s post—allegedly just five minutes, according to eyewitness accounts on social media—Lia Thomas fired back with a pointed response. “This isn’t about humiliation; it’s about equality and respect for all athletes,” Thomas reportedly wrote, calling out the inflammatory language and demanding an apology. Her words struck a nerve, highlighting the personal toll of the ongoing saga. Supporters rallied behind her, decrying Dressel’s comment as transphobic and a low blow that crossed into harassment territory.
Under mounting pressure from fans, fellow swimmers, and advocacy groups, Dressel bowed his head in a swift turnaround. In a follow-up statement, he issued a public apology, saying, “My words were out of line and hurtful. I respect all competitors and regret the pain caused.” The retraction came as quickly as the original firestorm, with Dressel emphasizing his commitment to the sport while standing firm on fairness concerns. Critics, however, see it as damage control, pointing to a pattern of male athletes voicing discomfort over potential matchups.
This clash isn’t isolated. The broader conversation around transgender participation has polarized swimming, with figures like Riley Gaines leading protests against what they call an unfair edge in women’s sports. Gaines, who tied for fifth behind Thomas in that infamous 2022 race, has become a symbol of resistance, arguing that biological males retain advantages like greater muscle mass and lung capacity even after hormone therapy. On the flip side, advocates for inclusion stress mental health and the right to compete authentically, warning that exclusionary policies could drive away diverse talent.
As the 2028 Games approach—set to be the first U.S.-hosted Olympics since 1996—Dressel’s threat to quit adds urgency. He’s already affirmed plans to train for events like the 50-meter freestyle, joining a local club in Florida to build toward home-soil glory. But if Thomas enters the men’s fray, it could reshape rosters and sponsorships. Other male swimmers have echoed sentiments of boycott, with some declaring they won’t represent the U.S. if the fields feel compromised. World Aquatics, the sport’s governing body, has introduced an open category, but Thomas’s disinterest in it—preferring high-stakes women’s events—has only heightened tensions.
Reactions poured in from all corners. Supporters of Dressel praised his candor, viewing it as a stand against what they see as ideological overreach in sports. “Finally, someone says it like it is,” one fan tweeted. Trans rights groups condemned the pregnancy remark as dehumanizing, calling for sanctions. Even neutral observers worry about the precedent: if star athletes like Dressel opt out, it could diminish the Games’ spectacle and open doors to lawsuits.
Thomas, meanwhile, has faced her own scrutiny. Her lawsuit against World Aquatics was dismissed, solidifying the ban from women’s events. Packing her bags after the ruling, she left behind pointed words aimed at critics like Gaines, fueling more drama. Yet, some male athletes express sympathy, respecting her dedication despite the policy shift.
As investigations continue into whether Dressel’s initial post violated conduct codes, the incident exposes raw nerves in a sport striving for balance. Swimming, once a beacon of pure athleticism, now grapples with identity, biology, and inclusion. Will this force clearer guidelines from the IOC? Or will it lead to fragmented fields and boycotts? One thing’s certain: the pool’s waters are murkier than ever, and the dive into 2028 promises more turbulence ahead.
