Equity and Cheerleading

I was drawn in by this week's headlines after a federal judge ruled that cheerleading, at the collegiate level, isn't a sport.

Of course cheer is a sport, I thought to myself as I perused the articles. I've seen some of those girls at the top of their game - incredible! But then I started to understand the underlying issues - federal funding, Title IX, lack of NCAA oversight, and specifically whether or not Quinnipiac University could replace its expensive volleyball team with an inexpensive competitive cheer team and call it equal.

I get the outrage - it's mostly subtextual. American media and popular culture (not to mention popular practice) has pigeonholed these competitors so much so that when I saw the headline "Is Cheerleading a Sport?" I instantly read the fiery undertones: Are Cheerleaders Athletes?

Of course cheerleaders are athletes. But cheerleaders' athletic abilities aren't what's being called into question here. It's gender equity. The fact of the matter is that for decades the sole role of female dominated cheer teams has been to support male dominated sports. And yes, they've done that with a tricky combination of athleticism and encouragement. It isn't fair, but because of this history, cheer as a sport has a long road of definition ahead of itself, even if this new outgrowth of competitive cheer (or stunts and gymnastics, as the University of Oregon calls its team) isn't at all like its predecessors.

I fully recognize cheerleaders as athletes. However, until competitive cheer can clearly define itself as a regulated female-only sport through the NCAA, I don't think cheer should be able to replace other established female-only NCAA sports and retain a school's compliance with Title IX. That just isn't equitable.

The Heat is getting to me...

Yep, it's hot outside. But that's not why I'm writing. It's Miami. That Heat.

I am pretty sick of the Lebron James saga. One of my FB friends posted that she was in disbelief because it made her question the integrity of professional sports. I wondered how many people still link those two things together - professional sports and integrity. I stopped watching the NBA years ago, even though I'm an avid basketball fan. I think it's because the thing I love above all else about sports and competition is when players rise above the odds and do something amazing together, when their hard work pays off, even if it's just for a moment. I want the Cinderella story. I suppose that's why I'm not a fan of Lebron or Kobe or any of those super gifted guys - sure they're amazing athletes who display jaw-dropping skills all the time. But that's an expectation and, therefore, not at all exciting for me to watch.

Sorry, boys. I like small town, small time success stories.

I've been watching a lot of Friday Night Lights. There's something about small town high school football that I find totally fascinating. I keep telling Dave that I want to live in one of those Texas football towns so I can enjoy the sport for just one season on that grand scale. I love that the whole town empties and caravans to the stadium (home or away) for Panther games. There are even signs in the players' front yards with their jersey numbers. To be a football player in that small Texas town is to be a hero.

Sure, I grew up in a small town. I have fond memories of attending the Gaston High School football games from the time I was in the fourth or fifth grade. And, yah, I still remember the names of the guys who played when I was growing up - to me they were the epitome of cool. I couldn't wait to get to high school to become one of those athletes (not football, but basketball). In Gaston, you get to walk the line behind your team. There are some bleachers, of course, but students usually don't sit. You stand behind the rope and cheer your boys on from five feet away. You follow them as they walk up and down the sidelines. You slip in the mud and stand in the rain. You play a part in the collective game.

And though Gaston isn't like the Dillon of FNL, when I watch that show I can still smell the dusty warmth of a cut wheat field in the late season heat of a September Friday night. I see the fog settle in as we slowly morph into October. I feel the rainy nights in late October when students traded green Letterman's jackets for hooded parkas to keep dry and warm. And I walk. I walk and cheer and stand behind my team.

In my high school years, we didn't win much. But that didn't matter. And though the whole town didn't empty to attend games, we had a lot of support for a losing team. Perhaps most importantly, in a small town like Gaston, everyone is an athlete. Everyone had the chance to suit up under those lights. Anyone could tackle the dream. I love that.

I value commitment, which means sticking with your hometown team even when you have opportunities elsewhere. Anyone can leave a losing team or a small town for something bigger and better. That's easy. But I think it takes real integrity to stick it out and learn to win with the people around you.

Maybe that's why the Heat is getting to me.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Obviously the hype is pretty intense - it seems everyone is reading or has read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Entertainment Weekly even made the series its cover story a few weeks ago, which is totally out of character for that publication. Usually "entertainment" is strictly film or television for EW, not a book (though they do devote a few pages each issue to new and noteworthy novels). Of course this current frenzy is being fueled by the recent publication of the third installment in Larsson's series and rumors that Dragon Tattoo is going to be made into an American film (a Swedish version exists already) staring any number of famous actors (I'm rooting for Daniel Craig and Carey Mulligan).

I figured I couldn't avoid reading it and that it would be compelling from the start. Though the first chapter was captivating, it took me a while to get into the novel. The first 80 pages or so skip around between a variety of character perspectives - so much so that I didn't know whose story I was supposed to care about. Ultimately, I didn't trust the author.

Plus it was full of what I saw as a dry diatribe on the inner workings of the Swedish financial system. Cue snoozing noise.

I was so lost in Larsson's narration that I completely spaced out when the title character was introduced. It finally dawned on me a few pages later and I had to go back and re-read. Not a good sign.

I told myself to stick it out, though I put the book down for days at a time. I had just finished the newest Sookie Stackhouse and longed to keep reading books for their entertainment value, not because someone else told me it was good. Yah, well, Dante's Inferno is good too. You don't see me picking up that tome for a light summer read (which I tried once - I don't recommend it).

In fact, the only significant association I made in the first 80 or so pages was that I really wanted to go shop at IKEA (seriously, how many people and places in Sweden are the IKEA products named after, anyway?).

Then something happened. The stories came together and I started to see how everything was related. And Larsson dropped the bombshell - there really was a mystery to solve! It turns out that my patience had paid off. I couldn't put the book down and even found myself semi-annoyed at having to take care of things like the dishes when I could be turning the pages of that novel instead. It was definitely worth the read and, in retrospect, even worth the slow start (which contained many tidbits that were relevant later).

Well done, Larsson, well done.