Wordless Wednesday: Well, sort of… September 29, 2010
Posted by jeneypeney in being appropriate is overrated, i'm just sayin', sports.6 comments
Why soccer will never be appreciated in the United States: A rope of sand June 18, 2010
Posted by jeneypeney in piss and moan, save yo drama fo yo mama, sports.10 comments
WARNING: This is a sports related post. If for some reason you do not live, eat, breathe, sleep, and die for the athletic world, you might want to steer your browser this way.
When I was a kid, my mother was absolutely hell-bent on making her only daughter the girliest girl that girl-dom ever did see.
When she signed me up for dance classes, I shoved my tights in the heating vent and tossed my shoes in the back of my closet. “I don’t know where they went, Mommy. Maybe Jordan (the dog) ate them?”
Then she tried drama classes. Guess who never remembered to bring her script to rehearsal?
Don’t even get me started on the pageant and baton twirling crap.
So at the tender age of nine, when she realized that frilly dresses and big bows were not in my future, she handed me off to my father and directed him to, “Get her into something so she doesn’t get pregnant or addicted to meth before middle school.”
That’s when I started playing soccer.
Now, I know that soccer isn’t entirely a red-headed step-child of sports here in America, but it’s not exactly the Marsha Brady of the family either.
I’ve put up with the taunts, the jeers, and the criticism from people who don’t understand the beauty and intricacy of the game. I’ve even been told that “soccer players aren’t real athletes”, to which I say, why don’t you try running up and down a 130 yard field virtually non-stop for an hour and a half (at least) while people kick and jump and slide at your feet. Oh, and kick a ball as close to your body as possible while you’re doing it.
Not so easy is it, asshole?
Anyrant, I have come to terms with the fact that soccer will never be as big a sensation in the US as it is in other countries.
Why? Because we, as a nation, do not have patience. We want everything right. fucking. NOW. Especially when it comes to sports.
No one really wants to watch basketball players dribble and pass the ball – we all want to see mind-blowing three pointers and gravity defying slam dunks.
No one honestly cares about a football team’s eleven play drive down the field – we’d rather watch a running back take it eighty yards on his own or a wide receiver catch it with one hand in the corner of the end zone.
And don’t even try to tell me that you don’t wish for home run hits during baseball games.
I know these are gross generalizations and not every citizen of this country – or every sport organization – is this way. However, I think I can honestly say that we will never be patient enough to watch a sport that consists of ninety minutes of passing, shooting, and defending without a score for soccer to ever become one of the Big 4* (5?) of the United States.
Much like no one who reads my blog anymore had enough patience to read over 500 words on this crap…
* NFL, NBA, NHL, MLB
Why working in athletics sucks sometimes… June 15, 2010
Posted by jeneypeney in femme writes, girl problems, i wish i was still in college, i'm a moron, life, piss and moan, post grad dilemma, sports, the 'f' word, women's writes, workin girl.8 comments
I had originally wanted to write this for Femme Writes, but I am obviously a whole ten days behind the deadline. However, something happened this past week that I have to address.
I’m a sports nut.
I have a box with a football, softballs, glove, volleyball, basketball, soccer ball, hand pump, and softball bat in my trunk – just in case.
I refuse to make plans on Sundays during football season because, duh! The game is on!
The Actual actually has issues watching sporting events with me because I get so worked up (“What the hell was that?! My dog could have caught that goddamn football!” “Who in their right mind would swing at that shit?! Worthless!”).
I also happen to be lucky enough to work in the same area I am so passionate about – athletics. And although the role of women in athletics (especially collegiate athletics) has continually increased over the past several decades, my particular field (equipment) is severely lacking in the double X chromosome department.
I was in Tennessee last week for a conference where I was one of maybe about a couple dozen women in a sea of over 500 athletic equipment managers. That, doubled with fact that I was a new, young face in the crowd, meant I kind of, sort of stuck out. (Best pick up line of the week? “We may be in Tennessee, but you’re the only ten-I-see!”)
Being a woman in the athletic work field, I have become used to the off-hand comments and subtle belittling that comes with it; it all just makes me work harder.
But this week, I was shaken so bad at one of my seminars that I almost spent the rest of the day in my hotel room.
You see, I was in a seminar called ‘Helpful Hints’, which consisted of us equipment managers sharing our own hints and shortcuts for the group. I decided to get up and share my ‘hint’ about donating the hotel toiletries athletes leave in their travel bags to battered women’s shelters or homeless shelters in town. I ended my hint by saying, “If you have a SAAC, you should get them involved as well.”
Of course, considering the room was full of 99% men, they heard me say, “If you guys have a sack, get them involved!”
For the remainder of the conference, I was known as the girl who talked about sacks in the Helpful Hints meeting. I was absolutely mortified. Not because I unintentionally mentioned a man’s private parts (Lord knows I do that intentionally on a normal basis), but because no one would drop the damn subject for the rest of the week.I had lost credibility because of my verbal slip.
I can’t help but wonder if the same thing would have happened if I had been a man and actually had a sack of my own?
I am just as intelligent, talented, and damn good at my job as any of those men in my association. I can talk sports and understand the metaphors just as well as the next ass hat out there. Just because I have a vagina does not mean they have the right to ridicule me because I stated something with a double meaning.
You can all take your sacks and kiss my skirted ass.
I'm still trying to figure out this whole "growing up" thing everyone keeps talking about.
