The Risk

In The Risk, Kennedy scrutinizes the systemic sexism that pervades male-dominated fields like sports media, where women’s knowledge is often trivialized and their professional aspirations are met with condescension. The novel argues that women seeking credibility in these spaces must constantly battle the perception that their interest is superficial rather than a legitimate expertise. This struggle is embodied by Brenna Jensen, whose pursuit of a sports-journalism internship at HockeyNet becomes a case study in navigating misogyny. Her repeated encounters with executive Ed Mulder illustrate the professional barriers that women face, where their passion for sport is dismissed as an amusing novelty and their presence is treated as an intrusion into a male-only clubhouse.

Brenna’s interviews for an internship with Mulder serve as the primary evidence of this devaluation. From their first meeting, Mulder is dismissive and unprofessional. He repeatedly calls her “Brenda,” ignores her qualifications while focusing on his fantasy hockey league, and frames her ambition in sexist terms, questioning why a “pretty girl” like her wants to work behind the camera. His only flicker of genuine interest comes when Brenna mentions her connection to a prominent male player, Jake Connelly. This pattern culminates during a dinner party, where Mulder segregates the women from the men’s hockey discussion. When Jake deliberately includes Brenna, her insightful analysis initially impresses the other men, only for Mulder to patronizingly remark that “hearing hockey stats and breakdowns coming from a woman [is] cute” (133). This comment crystallizes the central conflict: Brenna’s expertise is valid only as a charming anomaly, not as a professional asset.

The novel shows that this sexism isn’t just a barrier for aspiring women but is also directed at established female professionals. Mulder reveals his contempt for his own network’s successful female analyst, Georgia Barnes, when he worries that she will put a “feminist bullshit spin” on a news story about a player’s domestic-abuse arrest (34). His dismissive language implies a casual attitude toward domestic abuse and a concern that Georgia will challenge its treatment within sports culture. By anticipating her analysis as “spin,” he frames scrutiny of violence against women as ideological distortion rather than responsible journalism. This response reflects a deeper misogyny, implicitly prioritizing the comfort and reputation of male athletes over women’s safety while discrediting a female professional who might question those priorities. His contempt exposes how institutional sexism can shape sports coverage, allowing men in positions of authority to define which perspectives count as credible and to dismiss women’s criticism as excessive or intrusive. Through Mulder, Kennedy connects women’s exclusion from sports broadcasting to a broader culture that minimizes the harm done to them.

Despite these obstacles, the novel offers a path forward through female solidarity. After being rejected for the internship, Brenna has a chance encounter with Georgia herself. Georgia validates Brenna’s experience, confirming that the industry is full of “sexist blowhards” and encouraging her not to abandon her dream. This moment of mentorship frames Brenna’s rejection as a systemic problem rather than a personal failure. Georgia’s subsequent decision to leave HockeyNet for a better position at ESPN—and her offer to interview Brenna for a job—signals that while the “old boys’ club” remains powerful, it isn’t monolithic. The novel suggests that by creating their own networks of support, women can challenge the status quo and carve out spaces where their expertise is valued.