.keep your commentary to yourself. August 11, 2008

.authored by something.of.substance.

they’re wide open

Every time the Olympics are aired- summer or winter- I doubt I’ll watch Yet, I always find myself in front of the television captivated by the nationalistic drama perpetuated by cheering for the best-of-the-best athletes in the world. This evening, I happened to catch one of the women’s beach volleyball matches. The US team consisting of Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh were taking on the Cuban team of Fernandez and Larrea (whose first names were never made evident). During the match, the commentary provided by two male sportscasters was particularly appalling. Interspersing shots of “live” volleyball action with a constantly running barrage of gossip about the American team members, the chatter turned quickly from volleyball and game specifics to gossipy asides of both US women’s love lives and future speculation that neither “almost 30″ year-old woman would compete in the next Olympics because of her perceived “sense of urgency at needing to start a family”.

As if it isn’t bad enough that the official female beach volleyball uniform of the Olympics is the rather immodest (and impractically-shifting) tiny sports bra and panties versus the male uniform of tank and shorts, these women are seen as fodder for more than lewd looks.The male-perpetuated gossip club that is sports commentary has provided in-depth and endearing vignettes on the training schedules, philosophies and beliefs of the American male athletes. The female athletes, however, all seemed to be featured in tales worthy of any day-time soap opera: stories of nude photography, broken relationships, eating habits and baby-fever portray these impressive women as neurotic, lustful and perhaps most importantly, not serious about their sport as a lifestyle.

By detailing the stormy courtships, fairy-tale weddings and desire for children of Misty and Kerri and placing it in context of their advancing age (almost 30? really?), the sportscasters have reduced these fabulous athletes to the stereotypes that are still perpetuated of women: occupying themselves elsewhere until they meet their mate and subsequently planning to quit everything as they march to the continuously louder beat of their biology.

It takes roughly twenty minutes for the commentators to discuss the actual Olympic sport in front of us: the physics of playing in pliable sand versus hard gym floor, how both women happened into this particular sport and other athletic-specific concerns. Nearly 3/4 of the match goes by without treating these women with the respect they have so earned.

May-Treanor and Walsh ended up winning their match against the Cubans. But, the glory of their win was somehow overshadowed by the stories of their personal lives. In an era of celebu-tante sex stars and rap spawn role models, highlighting the personal and professional achievements of these strong, capable athletic women is a welcome breath of fresh air. However, having their success accompanied by a patronizing current of highly-gendered dribble by two male would-be journalists seems to dull that gold medal shine unnecessarily. Here’s a radical idea: let’s stop trotting out that same old tired, sexist spin as our prime show horse and lead the way with some legitimate reverence for skill.