For a brief moment in 2025, it seemed like Heather McMahon was about to be canceled — and over a sequence of events so preposterous that the comedian couldn’t have scripted it herself.
Hired to emcee the first tee of the Ryder Cup, the annual tournament that’s meant to be a friendly battle between American and European golfers, she was struggling to win over her crowd: a rowdy, largely drunk, overwhelmingly male and decidedly American horde at the Long Island course. When they started chanting “fuck you, Rory,” a dig at Northern Irish golf star Rory McIlroy, McMahon saw an opportunity to ingratiate herself with her new audience. What she got was a minor international incident.
The tournament fired McMahon. Tensions between the two teams escalated. She issued a public apology to McIlroy, but it was too late. For 72 hours, she was the recipient of the golf subsection of the manosphere’s vitriol and threats. She says she fielded challenges to meet up for physical fights. When she returned from a brief social media blackout, she was relieved to see her feed had been cleansed. “Taylor Swift really saved my ass,” recalls McMahon. “It was so bad for three days, and then she dropped Life of a Showgirl. The entire news cycle had changed.”
But the impact of her brief cancellation stuck with McMahon, most auspiciously in her new special. By a Thread, which dropped on Hulu over the weekend, opens with McMahon’s vivid retelling of the event and the ensuing fallout. She also tackles myriad other subjects, but it’s a hell of a way to open the show. Speaking during a recent of The Hollywood Reporter podcast I’m Having an Episode (listen tot he full episode on Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple), she talked about the similarities between sexism in sports and comedy — and how her enthusiasm for Pitbull landed her a Guinness World Record.
With all respect to the emotional toll this cost you … as reasons for being “canceled” go, this one is pretty cartoonish.
It’s hilarious. It’s insane. For the first three days, a full 72 hours, it was very scary. I had grown men sending me personal messages, messaging my managers, my publicists, everybody. “Have Heather meet me outside of XYZ steakhouse in Atlanta. We’re ready to brawl.” It is insane what people will send from their personal accounts. Like, this is from Bill. He’s an accountant. I can see what firm he works at. What was scary was that I had never been in that sort of situation, specifically in a man’s world. My audience is strongly females and fab gays. They get me. Afterwards, of course, every single one of my buddies in comedy messaged me like, “This is gold. This is the best thing that could happen to you.” Once I had apologized, once we got over the hump, I was like, there’s so much here.
Having been raised in a very golf-centric family myself, what struck me about your experience is how rowdy the tournament crowds have gotten. It’s like the dark side of Happy Gilmore. How do you see it?
Golf is in a really weird space. I grew up playing golf. I was a golfer in high school. It’s in my blood. My husband and I go to The Masters every year. The Ryder Cup has always been known to be heavily competitive between Europe and America. But it’s always been in good fun? I think [having it in Long Island], the already the weird animosity that America was having to outsiders, I don’t think they were set up for success that year. And, I’ll fall on the sword. I did not help the cause. It’s just really wild. What does golf want to be? Is it all buttoned up like The Masters? Is it trying to be Happy Gilmore? I do think golf needed like shake off the cobwebs, quit being as stuffy, but it doesn’t know where it wants to go.
Has this has this experience changed your relationship golf?
Yes and no. Golf has had some real moments recently. The Calloway situation! Who the fuck signed off on this shit? [Calloway partnered with Good Good Golf on a commercial that depicted a man assaulting a woman.] You watch that and realize that this is the problem. I learned that men don’t want women in their spaces. You learn that a little bit in comedy, too. We’re already having to like elbow our way into rooms and to get the respect that we deserve. But the sports world? I had so many sports reporters and women in the business reach out to me say, “This happens across every sport. We all deal with the craziness.” I’m not even shitting on golf, because I’m still a huge fan, but I did just learn like I don’t need to be put in those spaces. I can enjoy it and do my thing. I’m only going to LPGA events now. Like that’s what I want to focus on and and root for the girls. It put a bad taste in my mouth for the the manosphere in general.
So you’re watching the LPGA. Did you watch Rory win the Masters this year?
I went to the Masters and got to see him win again. I’m still a huge fan. It’s not the players. They’re doing their thing. It’s just this kind of weird environment with some of the the male fans these days. And again, I apologized, but I do think, had a male comedian been in my shoes, we would have never had this conversation. They wouldn’t have given a shit. Dudes being dudes. Set it on fire, man.
In a much lighter arena, I would like to address your Pitbull affinity.
I started dressing in drag as Pitbull like 10 years ago, on a whim one Halloween. I went around trick-or-treating with a bunch of my friends’ kids and they had no idea it was me for like the first hour and a half. They just thought some creepy guy was following them. Then I started doing impressions as him. By my first tour, people just knew that was my shtick. I love Pitbull.
But how did you come play such a prominent role at this past summer’s largest recorded gathering of Baldies — the people who wear bald caps to Pitbull shows?
This past summer I get a text from a Miami number, and it’s Armando [Pérez], the real Pitbull. He’s like, “Heather, I’ve seen all your stuff. I adore you. We have to have you be a part of this Guinness Book of World Records party in Hyde Park.” So I end up going to London, I’m in drag. I host this full countdown to the concert with two other guys. I think like 75,000 people came out, but the people actually there in time to be counted for the Guinness Record was around like 22,000. It was just incredible. Guinness sent me a plaque that’s like, “You were a part of it.” It was unreal. And I got to hang out with Armando. They say, “Don’t meet your heroes,” in this business. But meet Pitbull.