A Sports Story About Women

By Erica Ewart

While making my usual rounds on several different sports sites yesterday, I happened to take note of the major absence of stories written about women. This seemingly random observation circumvented around the male authors who didn’t offer the spotlight to a single female athlete. Actually, women in these stories were not even welcomed to the stage. So, I sat down with my laptop determined to write a story about a female athlete. I had no particular agenda as to who the woman would be or from what era, but I wanted to put voice to a story because clearly women’s narratives in sports (and history in general) are shamefully lacking.

However, the dreaded “block” that occupies the territory of writing caught up to me. The piece apparently was meant to take root and flourish tomorrow.

So, I sit down again today determined to write a piece about a female athlete. But, again, I can’t seem to find energy around a story.  I wonder what’s wrong with me.  What kind of feminist am I?  What kind of athlete am I?  I’m a former college basketball player and have participated in sports from the time I could walk—I have a life long database of women athletes to write about.  So what’s wrong with me?  What’s “wrong” with me, I’m sensing, is that I’m not asking the right question.

I pull up ESPN’s website—the worldwide leader in sports—and I see stories written about basketball, football, soccer, baseball, high school football, a plethora of sports, but not one story about a woman. I scroll down and see a small box at the bottom right hand portion of the site labeled “ESPNW”, I click on the box.  It actually has stories about women; it even has a female athlete in the featured story. There are good, well-written, interesting stories posted on this site.

I wonder aloud, “Why aren’t they in the “normal” section of ESPN?”

How in the world, as a woman, is my “normal” the sports section that’s written about men?  The normality of my very question is disturbing.  I’ve played sport my entire life believing that this was an empowering arena for me. I believed I was gaining valuable confidence, strength and at times status, which on many levels was true. But I was also gaining a powerful and carefully scripted narrative that told me: men are more worthy, more capable, more important than you.

Stated simply: you are less valuable.

This sexist and patriarchal message was communicated to me in seemingly small ways, such as the boys basketball games getting the primetime spot after us girls played, or female tennis players competing in three sets compared to male participants competing in five (yes, this is still happening today).  It was also messaged to me overtly—need I go any further than the “you throw like a girl” insult?  This pejorative communication let me know my value and also my place, I am not in the center of my sports universe.  I should just be grateful to orbit around the men here (what I continue to painfully hear echoing in the resentful sentiments of Title IX).

These messages formed my role in the sports arena, which inevitably mirrored my understanding in the world arena.  It’s no surprise then that I sit down today and struggle to put a spotlight on women athletes.

It’s a foreign concept to put females in the center.

I continue to sift through the articles on ESPNW while weighing the magnitude and impact of these narratives. I can feel the lightness of the stories’ headlines in my body, fluffy, boring, uninteresting. Clearly, before even reading a word, I have already unconsciously placed lesser value on the pieces (perhaps the aforementioned columnists did too).

This raises the question, how can I write a story about a woman athlete if I don’t even value it?  I have been inundated with the patriarchal narrative right down to my unconscious core. The system has found its way into me, an empowered and strong, female athlete.

I am deeply saddened by this sexist conditioning. What a tragic personal loss and cultural loss. I have known that I was being sold a story that men’s athletics mattered more than women’s, I just didn’t realize I had bought it—now I’m left to wonder, how much did I pay for it?

This problem is a collective one. We are all a part of this message being sent to young girls and women. Not to mention, a message being sent to young boys and men teaching them to devalue females.

It’s a terrible bind. To obtain traction as a writer in the sports world I need to cover what people are interested in reading, and it’s clear it’s not a story about a female athlete. In order to survive the system, I fear I have to perpetuate the very problem existing in it.