9202050602
DETROIT FREE PRESS
920925
Friday, September 25, 1992
METRO EDITION
1C
MITCH ALBOM
SEE ALSO METRO FINAL EDITION, Page 1D
Copyright (c) 1992, Detroit Free Press
ALL MIXED UP AS MAN MEETS WOMAN IN SPORT
Let's face it. Even though men and women live together, work together
and sleep together, they are not always on the same page. MAN (watching Three
Stooges): Ho! Haha! WOMAN: I'm leaving you. MAN: What's that,
hon--ahaaahahaheee!
Nowhere is this difference more apparent than in the world of sports, where
men will tell you, on the scale of Truly Important Things In Life, there is 1)
the 1975 World Series, 2) who was better in his prime, Magic or Bird? 3) the
polio vaccine.
Whereas women have it all backwards.
Believe it or not, there are actually women out there who, given the
choice between tickets for the Super Bowl and a chance to bring about world
peace, would opt for the world peace thing.
Incredible. But OK. Until now, we have accepted this as a defining line of
life, like people who like Barry Manilow and people who don't. The business
world may be mixed, same for politics, but the playing field has always been a
safe haven, where men could wage war against men -- and women could point and
laugh their heads off.
But things have changed.
Wednesday, in Tampa, a 20-year-old woman played goalie for the first time
in an NHL game.
And tonight, in Las Vegas, Jimmy Connors, once the most ferocious male
tennis player in the world, will play Martina Navratilova, once the most
ferocious female tennis player. The winner will take a $500,000 prize. The
promoters smell big ratings.
I smell trouble.
Having fun vs. serious business
Mixing men and women on the same sports field is rarely a good idea. If you
ask me, they shouldn't play in the vicinity of one another. Take this tennis
club I know. You see women on one court and men on the next. The women take
their time on every element of the game, including Removing The Racket From
the Case, which could take 27 minutes, while they chat and laugh and act
generally like people who just happen to be on a tennis court but have no
interest in really, you know, sweating.
The men, meanwhile, burst onto the court the moment their hour begins --
and if the two men who were on before them dare to go a minute over, the new
men club them over the heads. Then they begin their "warm-up." This consists
of each man trying to whack the ball hard enough to make a small hole in the
opponent's thigh, while each yells to the other "Oh, man . . . (whack, hope I
kill you). I'm so tired today (whack, die scum, die)."
Meanwhile, the women are having such a good time that they decide to do
something really wild, like Open A Can Of Balls. And when they do -- oops, a
ball drops out and rolls onto the men's court.
At which point the men immediately halt, drop their rackets, and make faces
that suggest you are the Hatfields and they are the McCoys and they have a
shotgun and it is loaded, pal. And they say, in that familiar tone known as
why-are-we-sharing- the-planet-with-this-species, "DO YOU MIND? WE'RE TRYING
TO PLAY HERE!"
This is when they play next to each other.
Imagine when they're on the same court!
It's confusing when left is right
Which brings us to tonight's match between Connors, who does Nuprin
commercials, and Navratilova, who once worked out with the Dallas Cowboys.
You see the lines are already fuzzy.
They get fuzzier. Because if you are a man, you are actually confronted
with a perplexing question: For whom do you root, Connors or Navratilova?
Being a liberated male, which means I do not refer to women as "wenches,"
I am torn. So are most men I know. They have been taught that equality is
good, barriers are bad. They have been taught to root for the underdog. They
have been taught that Jimmy Connors, except when being paid by PaineWebber, is
a pompous jerk.
But they also know that, underneath it all, they are still guys. As in:
"Hey. Vinnie's throwing up behind the schoolyard. Get the guys! HEY, GUYS!"
So we have a war inside the male brain (assuming there's one in there).
The left half looks for the politically correct, the right half looks for a
pair of dirty socks to wear.
RIGHT: We're rooting for Connors tonight.
LEFT: How can we root for Connors? He's a jerk.
RIGHT: Have you checked out his opponent?
LEFT: What's wrong with Martina?
RIGHT: She's wearing a dress.
LEFT: So?
RIGHT: I said she's wearing a dress! HEY GUYS!
LEFT: Your socks are dirty. . . .
You see what this can lead to. Why, right in the middle of the match, a
man could get all glassy-eyed, and when his buddy says, "What's wrong, dude?"
he says, "Oh, nothing, I was just thinking."
And his friends say, "WHAT? DURING A SPORTING EVENT? ARE YOU CRAZY?"
By the way, as for the female goalie in Tampa, I say anyone nuts enough to
watch hockey in Tampa deserves a little shock. Also, a guy I know who hates
the idea of female hockey players, said to me, "What's worse is, she's a
babe!"
If you can figure out that logic, call me.
As for tonight's tennis duel, my recommendation is to skip the thing
entirely. Be safe. Rent a video. I suggest "The Three Stooges."
Then again, I would.