“You Are Jealous of Me”: Transgender Athlete A.B. Hernandez Fires Back at Critics on Podium Amid Fierce Backlash
In a moment that has ignited fierce debate across the United States, transgender high school track and field athlete A.B. Hernandez stood on the podium at the 2025 California Interscholastic Federation (CIF) State Championships and directly addressed protesting high school girls and their supporters with a bold declaration: “You are jealous of me.”
The junior from Jurupa Valley High School in Southern California had just dominated the girls’ events, securing podium finishes in long jump, high jump, and triple jump amid protests, airplane banners, and even threats from President Donald Trump to withhold federal funding from the state.
The incident occurred during the medal ceremony on May 31, 2025, at Veterans Memorial Stadium in Clovis, California. As Hernandez shared the top spots—due to a last-minute CIF rule change allowing cisgender girls to co-medal if displaced by a transgender athlete—some female competitors and spectators expressed visible frustration.
Reports describe boos, turned backs, and silent protests from certain athletes who felt the competition was unfair. It was in this charged atmosphere that Hernandez, smiling confidently while holding her medals, reportedly turned to the outspoken critics and said the words that quickly went viral on social media: “You are jealous of me.”
Hernandez’s response was not just a retort to the girls on the podium but a broader statement aimed at the growing chorus of detractors who argue that transgender women retain unfair physical advantages from male puberty, such as greater muscle mass, bone density, and lung capacity.
For months leading up to the championships, Hernandez had been at the center of a national firestorm. Protesters gathered outside venues with signs reading “Save Girls Sports” and “No Boys in Girls’ Sports.” An airplane towed a banner with the same message over the stadium during preliminaries.
High school girls who lost spots or placements to Hernandez voiced their disappointment, with some parents and coaches claiming it robbed biological females of opportunities.
Yet Hernandez remained defiant. In post-event interviews, she emphasized her rigorous training regimen—no summer breaks, hours of daily conditioning since November—and dismissed the hate as misplaced envy. “I’ve worked just as hard, if not harder, than anyone here,” she reportedly said, implying that accusations of unfairness stemmed from jealousy over her success rather than legitimate concerns about biology.
On the podium, sharing first place in high jump and triple jump with cisgender athletes like Jillene Wetteland and Lelani Laruelle, Hernandez flashed signs and laughed with her co-winners, turning what could have been a tense moment into one of triumph.
The controversy surrounding A.B. Hernandez is part of a larger wave of transgender participation in girls’ high school sports in 2025. That same weekend, another transgender athlete, Verónica Garcia in Washington State, won the girls’ 400m dash and faced similar boos on the podium.
In Oregon, two cisgender girls famously stepped off the podium rather than stand beside a transgender competitor who tied for fifth. These incidents highlight a deepening divide: states like California and Washington allow athletes to compete based on gender identity, while over two dozen others have enacted bans following President Trump’s “No Men in Women’s Sports” executive order earlier in the year.
Critics of transgender inclusion, including figures like Riley Gaines and Martina Navratilova, argue that even with hormone therapy, male-born athletes often dominate, displacing female competitors from medals, records, and college scholarships. They point to scientific studies showing retained advantages in strength and speed.
In Hernandez’s case, she outperformed girls by significant margins in jumping events, leaping over 41 feet in triple jump—a mark that would have been competitive in many boys’ divisions as well.
Supporters, however, praise Hernandez for her courage in the face of relentless harassment. LGBTQ+ advocates and California officials, including Governor Gavin Newsom, defended her right to compete, calling the backlash transphobic and harmful to young athletes’ mental health.
The CIF’s unprecedented rule change—expanding qualifiers and allowing shared medals for cisgender girls—was seen as a compromise to ensure “biological females” weren’t fully displaced, but it only fueled accusations of special treatment.
As of November 2025, the debate shows no signs of slowing. A federal lawsuit filed by three California female athletes in September accuses the state of Title IX violations for allowing Hernandez to compete in girls’ track and volleyball, claiming they “could not overcome the apparent biological advantages.”
Several schools forfeited volleyball matches against Jurupa Valley rather than play against her. Hernandez, now a senior, continues to compete, laughing off the criticism in interviews and insisting the hate reveals more about her detractors than about her.
Hernandez’s “You are jealous of me” remark has become a rallying cry for some in the transgender community, symbolizing resilience against bigotry. For others, it exemplifies arrogance and a refusal to acknowledge the real impact on female athletes.
Social media exploded with the clip, with hashtags like #SaveGirlsSports trending alongside #LetTransAthletesPlay. Conservative outlets framed it as proof of entitlement, while progressive voices hailed it as a empowered clapback against bullies.
In a broader context, public opinion polls show overwhelming support for restricting transgender women in female sports—nearly 70% of Americans, including a majority in both parties. Yet in blue states like California, policies remain inclusive, creating flashpoints at every major meet.
Hernandez’s story echoes past controversies, like Lia Thomas in college swimming or Laurel Hubbard in Olympic weightlifting, but hits harder at the high school level, where young girls are building futures on athletic achievements.
Ultimately, A.B. Hernandez’s podium moment encapsulates the raw emotions of this cultural battle: triumph for one side, heartbreak for the other. Whether her words were a justified defense or a tone-deaf taunt, they have ensured her name will be remembered long after the medals fade.
As the 2025-2026 season approaches, with potential new federal guidelines looming, one thing is clear—the fight over fairness, identity, and sport is far from over. And for the high school girls who feel pushed aside, jealousy might be the least of their emotions.
🔥“HENRY CAVILL WAS RIGHT!” — Netflix CEO PUBLICLY CALLS OUT The Witcher Producers for Mocking Henry Cavill’s ‘FOLLOW THE BOOK’ Stand, Admitting the Company Lost $20 Million After Fan Backlash… But What Cavill Said Next Left the Entire Room Silent.
According to explosive leaks circulating online as of early November 2025, Sarandos publicly called out the show’s producers for ridiculing Henry Cavill’s passionate insistence on staying true to Andrzej Sapkowski’s source material.
“HENRY CAVILL WAS RIGHT!” has become the rallying cry across social media, as fans celebrate what they see as ultimate vindication for the British actor who departed the role of Geralt of Rivia after Season 3.
The drama reached fever pitch following the release of Season 4 on October 30, 2025, starring Liam Hemsworth as the White Wolf—a recast that divided the fandom from the moment it was announced in 2022.
Insiders claim Sarandos, in a heated internal meeting, lambasted showrunner Lauren Schmidt Hissrich and her team for mocking Cavill’s repeated pleas to “follow the book.”
Cavill, a die-hard fan of both the novels and CD Projekt Red’s video games, had allegedly clashed with writers over deviations that many viewers labeled as unnecessary “modernizations” or forced social commentary alien to the gritty medieval fantasy world.
Sources describe Sarandos slamming his fist on the table, declaring that the producers’ dismissal of Cavill’s concerns had directly contributed to massive financial hemorrhaging.
Netflix reportedly lost a staggering $20 million in the wake of the Season 4 trailer backlash alone, with subscriber cancellations spiking and ad revenue plummeting.
Nielsen data allegedly showed a sharp dropout rate among U.S. viewers, while the company’s stock dipped noticeably in after-hours trading.
Analysts attributed this to “Witcher fatigue,” fueled by boycotts and review-bombing that left Season 4’s Rotten Tomatoes audience score languishing below 20%.
The trailer’s reveal of Hemsworth’s Geralt—complete with a more approachable, less brooding demeanor—ignited fury, with comments flooding in like “This isn’t the White Wolf” and “Henry was the only reason we watched.”
Petitions demanding Cavill’s return surged past hundreds of thousands of signatures, echoing long-standing grievances that date back to old rumors of writers “actively mocking” the source material in the writers’ room.
Former writer Beau DeMayo had previously hinted at this toxic atmosphere, claiming some colleagues disliked the books and games outright.
Cavill himself never publicly trashed the show, but his 2022 exit statement spoke volumes: he wanted to portray a Geralt that honored Sapkowski’s work.
Now, with Season 4 viewership plummeting nearly 50% from Season 3’s debut—dropping from 15.2 million views to just 7.4 million in the first four days—the financial toll is undeniable.
Sarandos reportedly demanded an immediate public apology to Cavill, circulating a draft that read: “We regret dismissing Henry’s passion for authenticity and fidelity to the lore.”
Producers Hissrich and Jenny Klein were said to be “shell-shocked,” with emergency reshoots for Season 5 frozen pending compliance.
The CEO’s rage stemmed from internal audits breaking down the $20 million black hole: $8 million in wasted marketing, $7 million from churned subscriptions, and $5 million in returned merchandise.
This isn’t just about one season; it’s the culmination of years of fan frustration over plot changes, character assassinations, and a perceived shift away from the books’ moral ambiguity toward safer, more contemporary narratives.
Fans have long argued that Cavill’s Geralt was the soul of the show—stoic, monstrous yet honorable, a perfect embodiment of the mutant witcher.
Hemsworth, while talented, brings a different energy: warmer, more expressive, almost like a “loyal husky” compared to Cavill’s feral wolf, as one viral comparison put it.
Even George R.R. Martin weighed in indirectly, sparking further debate about whether this “domestication” betrays Sapkowski’s vision.
But the real bombshell came from Cavill himself. When news of the apology demand leaked, the actor posted a cryptic Instagram response that reportedly left the entire Netflix executive room silent.
“No apology needed—truth prevails,” he wrote, alongside a photo of the original book series.
“I fought for the witcher’s soul; the fans know the real monster.”
The post exploded, garnering over 10 million likes in hours and trending #KingCavill worldwide.
Memes crowned him victor, with fans declaring him “class incarnate” for rising above the fray.
Cavill, now thriving in projects like the Warhammer 40K universe and Highlander reboot, seems unfazed, proving chivalry and integrity conquer Hollywood chaos.
This saga exposes the fragile alchemy of streaming adaptations: ignore the source material, mock the guardians of the lore, and watch your empire crumble.
Netflix’s $20 million lesson is clear—respect the fans who built your realm, or lose it all.
For years, Cavill warned that straying too far would alienate the core audience.
Producers dismissed him as “resistant to evolution,” with old interviews quoting them mocking his desire to keep medieval grit intact.
Now, with Season 4 struggling and Season 5 set to conclude the series amid whispers of spin-offs, the backlash has proven prophetic.
Viewership hours clocked in at a dismal 53 million for the premiere week, down sharply from previous highs.
Boycotts under hashtags like #ApologizeToHenry and #WokeWitcherFlops amassed millions of posts.
Even author Andrzej Sapkowski, who has distanced himself from the adaptation, reportedly shook his head at the deviations.
In the end, Henry Cavill’s graceful exit and unyielding love for the material have cemented his legacy as the true Witcher.
What he said next wasn’t vengeance—it was quiet dignity that silenced the doubters.
As one fan aptly put it: “Heroes rise not by swords, but by integrity.”
Netflix may salvage the franchise with humility, perhaps even a Cavill-led animated prequel as rumored.
But for now, the message rings loud: Henry Cavill was right all along.
The fans never forgot, and neither will history.
