On Being a Woman in Quadball
By: Emily Hickmott
Content Warning: This article contains mentions of sexual assault, sexual harrassment and discrimination on the basis of sex.
I wrote the following letter in the summer of 2024, after watching the Austin Outlaws lose to the League City Legends (now the Houston Legends) in the regular season. I remember being so angry because everything the Outlaws were doing showed how little trust they had in their women. It was something I wrote just to let out my frustration, so I never shared it publicly. Until now.
“An Open Letter to the Men of the Austin Outlaws,
Hey boys, how y’all doing after those L’s this weekend? Truly a historic weekend for the Austin Outlaws franchise.
So let’s talk. My first question to y’all, quite frankly, is why do you not trust your women chasers? Watching those two losses, the thing that I noticed is that y’all really aren’t passing the ball to them (really, y’all aren’t passing at all, but that’s a whole other issue). The women will pass to women; Brandy Gomez and Ella Jordan had two beautiful goals, passing the ball around. But watching Andrew Axtell and Louis Sanchez consistently try to drive through entire defenses and getting stopped basically every time, when a woman was open, was just not fun for me (Quadball should be fun). Only seven out of the 31 goals were scored by women/gender nonconforming players. We’re in three-max babes; do better.
My second question to y’all is, do y’all really think that being a man makes you better at beating when the flag runner has been released? Watching these games, it was a man’s bad decision that resulted in a 20-second catch. It isn’t just a game of who can throw the ball hardest or run the fastest (if you want to play dodgeball, I am sure there’s a league in your city). Have you instead considered using your brain a little? It might help.
It’s not like y’all don’t have balling women and non-binary players. Kayse Bevers and Gomez are utility queens! Jenna Adams has the fastest hands in the south. Cam Casitlaw makes such smart beats! Julie Picasso had a beautiful hammer into a catch. Jordan was making great cuts. Y’all just aren’t setting them up to succeed.
I know this is your first series of the season; I know you were missing some absolute ballers. But y’all need to do better, or y’all are gonna continue to take big L’s.
Three Max is about more than just having more women and non-binary players on the field; it’s about using those players to the best of their ability. Y’all aren’t. Do better. We’ll be watching.
XOXO
Emily Hickmott”
Two years later, nothing’s changed. Time passes, but the discussion stays the same. I’ve been in this sport for 13 years; it has been a community that has brought so much joy into my life. However, this last year, I’ve been reflecting on what my Quadball experience has been and if it’s something I want to continue being a part of.
So, for those of you who don’t know, this is how it has felt to be a woman in quadball:
Struggling to throw and catch the ball since no one ever taught you. And then having to teach yourself
Spending hours outside of practice having balls whipped at you as fast as your teammates can throw them. Your hands get better.
Your coach writes you a message after a loss: “I should have trusted you.”
Never being passed the ball even though you’ve literally never been more open in your entire life.
Dropping one bad pass and having your teammates use that to justify not passing to you ever again.
Being asked to play whole tournaments without a sub. “We just didn’t bring enough women. You don’t want to let the team down, do you?”
Being told to give the ball to your beater partner when your team only has one. He makes worse decisions with it and you have to run down the missed throws.
Getting both your knees taken out by people when you’re outplaying them, because that’s the only thing they can do to win.
Not being able to hold the dodgeball. Adapting to just do two-handed push beats.
Being told you aren’t athletic enough. People more athletic than you make significantly worse decisions.
Playing through injury because you don’t have enough subs.
Playing less because another person at your position is dating the coach.
Never getting to beat when the flag runner is out even though you make better choices than most men.
At a tryout during passing drills for warm-up, only getting to be in the line that is catching and finishing at the hoops. You (and the other women) don’t get to practice passing.
Still not being passed the ball, even when you have more experience than every other person on the team.
Watching the two men on the field pass back and forth without ever passing to a woman. It makes defense so much easier.
Calling for a pass from a teammate on a breakaway. A man on your line intercepts it and goes to dunk on the hoop. He misses.
Standing in front of the little hoop. You get blown up when people decide it’s the “easiest” option.
Learning to play multiple positions so that you can be anyone’s sub.
Watching the men on your team attempt to drive through four defenders. You’re still the most open you've ever been in your entire life. Gotta do it the hard way!
Never being trusted to play in big moments in big games. How will you know if you can do it if they never let you try?
Getting whipped to the ground during a tackle. The ref says it’s fine. Why would they do anything to protect you?
Being responsible for all the administrative tasks that keep a team running. No one thanks you or understands how much time you're putting into it.
Only really hearing men’s voices in the media (streams, podcasts, etc.). “Please add a woman,” you beg!
Only being seen as a great organizer, never as a great player.
Listening to men talk constantly about their accomplishments or the cool plays they’ve made or why this one particular call made four years ago was wrong.
Going to a party with a new team and getting a message from someone you literally met that evening after “How did I not go home with you?”
Sleeping on a tiny chair in a different room after a team party; you think if you stayed in the other room, the people in there probably would have assaulted you. It’s happened before.
A teammate touching your butt at the first practice of a new team. You’d never met this person before.
Being called a fucking bitch for literally having a boundary.
Watching people who caused you harm consistently not face punishment and, in fact, be rewarded.
Menty b’s in the parking lot.
Not wanting to be a woman in quadball anymore.
As I was writing this, two things stood out to me as having the most impact on feeling valued: training and trust. People taking the time to help train and develop skills. Teams trusting their players enough to let them make the mistakes that help them grow. I know that the teams I’ve felt the most trusted on are the teams that I’ve wanted to continue to play for.
My hope for writing this is that teams and leadership take an introspective look at themselves and think about ways they can improve their training and trust.
Quadball has always been a mixed-gender sport. It’s one of the reasons that so many people have found so much joy in. We need to get better to make sure it continues to be able to be that. Because if we keep going the way we’re going, no woman will want to play.
The original letter included in this article was edited for style and clarity.
