This is a guest post by Anna Lekas Miller. Anna Lekas Miller is a freelance writer and rabid feminist based in New York City. Her work has appeared at GlobalComment, The Nation, Gender Across Borders, and the Electronic Intifada as well as many a 140 character rant that can be followed @agoodcuppa.
Last summer, every bar was crammed to the rafters as sports fans and non-sports fans alike eagerly gathered to watch the World Cup. Some were there to comment on the athletic grace of the players, while others were supporting their country or a specific team. Still others simply wanted to have a beer and reflect their geopolitics onto an exhilarating worldwide event.
Many of us got in long talks about politics lasting long after the games had ended.
Extra long soccer lunch breaks were completely legitimate, as was keeping ESPN.com open at all times to keep an eye on the games. The first thirty minutes of work were an unspoken, yet dutifully observed sanctioned time for discussing, commiserating upon, or celebrating the results of the latest match. Facebook newsfeeds were hijacked by soccer talk –scores, support, admiration, and anxiety that inevitably transitioned from a casual conversation about sports to a more heated and lengthy discussion on national pride, politics, culture, or history.
As more and more teams were eliminated, geopolitical opinions began dictating new team loyalties. Even those of us (like myself) who never saw the point of sports could find the beauty in a platform where Ghana could beat the United States or the Netherlands could be defeated on South African soil.
It is as impossible to avoid the suspense and excitement of the World Cup. It is equally impossible to discuss the games solely sports when they are such an explicit symbol of nationalism and internationalism. Yet until recently I had no idea that the Women’s World Cup even existed – much less that it is happening right now.
Why is this not the same addicting pan geo-political world event as last summer? It is the same sport, the same competition, the same suspenseful process of elimination. It is the same fodder for adrenalin-filled heated political debates, the same excuse to have another beer and exchange a few more opinions. Only one factor is changed: this time, the players are women.
Why should this matter?
It is certainly not a question of the female players’ skill. In many instances, the respective women’s soccer team is much more highly ranked than men’s team. Such is the case with both England and the United States. Logically, this would lend itself to consoling England over last year’s painful loss to Germany or the United States’ crushing defeat by Ghana. However, these opportunities for nationalism are dismissed as women’s sports are marginalized to the point of non-existence in the shadow of “real” (read: men’s) sports.
Sports and mainstream media are traditionally pathetic at covering women’s athletics. Recent reports say that a grand total of 1.6 percent of local airtime is allocated to female athletes on local TV channels and ESPN’s SportsCenter. As far as the Women’s World Cup is concerned, it is mentioned at the very bottom of the New York Times and BBC Sports pages –of course, mundane coverage of men’s soccer takes a more prominent place on both websites. Searching “soccer” on Google News yields an entire page of soccer-related events before finally noting the Women’s World Cup on the second page. Apparently “Local couple weds on an indoor soccer field” is more newsworthy than the Quarter Finals.
In the words of one of the more explicit comments on one of the few articles on female athletics, “I don’t want to see buff women running around playing sports. I would much rather watch a pretty woman cooking dinner.”
This seems like a common consensus, as one of the only times women’s soccer has occupied a memorable moment in sports history was when American player Brandi Chastain whipped off her shirt after scoring the winning goal in the 1999 World Cup against China. Hardly anyone analyzed the rich political implications of defeating China or competing against world super powers. However, there was a rich analysis of Chastain’s sports bra to this day that is referenced as the “sports bra moment.”
Finally one of those grotesquely buff, fit female athletes showed the world what it needed to see from a woman: sex appeal. All the times that female players display strength, grace, or skill are inconsequential –however, once a woman whips her shirt off, sports journalists suddenly find it extremely relevant.
Male athletes are not excluded from this objectification –it simply works in their favor. While female athletes are dismissed, male athletes are glorified and celebrated, not necessarily because of their skill, but because athleticism and strength exemplify society’s ideal man. “Athlete” and “male” are assumed to be one in the same –whether it is that the athlete in question is male or the man in question must play or at least be interested in sports in order to fulfill some obligation of his manhood. The ideas of strength, competition, power, and aggressiveness are institutionalized to describe both men and athleticism.
Women are not supposed to fit these descriptions, making “woman” and “athlete” a clashing, unpleasant combination.
As a result, women’s sports are not shown on television. Women’s sports are not discussed in the media, on the streets, at the office, or in bars. Women’s sports are ignored, and female athletes are seen as inconsequential in relation to national pride and patriotism –even though they play no differently than their male counterparts.
In the end, this is not a story about soccer or sports. It is not a story about media coverage or television ratings or even the blatant sexism contained within the sports industry. It is a story about geopolitics, patriotism, nationalism, pride, and joy –and how rigid, gendered expectations systematically exclude women from being a part of this dialogue.