You throw like a girl

I had no plans to write about sports, but after the weekend we had the topic seems appropriate. Specifically, I mean girls' sports, because this weekend (for the first time in my nine years [Ed. note: sweet jeebus kill me] of college, mind you) I attended some of what you may call Athletic Competitions Between Squadrons of Female Players. That's right, a women's basketball game and three (count 'em) three softball games. Free student tickets are overflowing with win. I know this is years in the future, and I really should be concerning myself with figuring out how to do things like bathe a baby, or maybe not misplacing her for hours on end, but whatever, this is on my mind and this is my blog.

I found myself thinking that if Girl ends up interested in sports, I am not going to have any clue as to the best way to support her in that endeavor (this falls under the umbrella of "Having a daughter, now what do I do?"). With boys it's easy: you support them athletically [Ed. note: tee hee!] by questioning their toughness and manhood. That fires up their lizard-brain into the "fight" response. Plus, it has the added bonus of teaching them a life-lesson, namely I am the boss and even if you go all Oedipus on me you still lose because dude you just totally married your mom. Case closed, I'll take my commission now. Girls' sports are a completely different beast. Just this weekend I noticed the many contrasts between women's and men's sports. Women:

1) Cheer for each other openly and un-self consciously
2) Don't frequently yell at teammates
3) Don't spit
4) Don't scratch
5) Don't take cheap shots
6) I assume minimally swear
7) Lack an intent to injure

The "Rah rah" attitude is nonexistent in men's sports, where the only acceptable cheering is that which is tagged with an insult, e.g. "Let's go defense, you're getting blown off the ball!" Seriously, do a Google Image search for "girls sports" and the first thing that comes up is a drawing that says "Rah Rah! Go team go!" (Hilariously, the second is two Sports By Brooks girls.) The Florida State softball team started their own Tomahawk Chop - complete with singalong - a couple times this weekend. You think any men's team would cheer like that?


Additionally I had to turn off my normal fan response. During one of the softball games the first basewoman (right, my sistahs?) dropped a throw from short and someone in the stands (a fan of her own team, actually) yelled, "Can we please get a first baseman who can catch the damn ball!" And let me tell you I was shocked. I didn't know you could do that, because they are girls and you are supposed to be nice to them. That's what I always learned. Does it not apply to girls' sports? And if not, how bad are you going to feel if you make them cry? Do you have to apologize? I really don't know. I would have thought the proper reaction would be (WARNING: GROSS OVERGENERALIZATION TO FOLLOW) to immediately freeze up uncomfortably worrying that she would cry after making the error, and then tell her that it's all right, despite the fact that you know you can't give the opposition extra outs. Obligatory Adam Morrison crying picture:


There's no way I could ever be involved with any girls' sports teams. The coaching psychology has to be completely different. Down at halftime, what do you tell your team? From my experience, you yell incoherently about not being tough enough and blah blah blah. I don't think you can do that with a girls' team.

Plus, it's not like I know a single thing about the actual sports that girls play. I am going to guess that the most popular sports for young girls in the U.S. are soccer, basketball, and softball, in that order. To me, those might as well be Calvinball. I played sports specifically where I could play and have a very low chance at actually touching the ball. I touched the ball zero times in four years of football (including the one play where the coach let me play fullback for one down in practice, which was my dream... and oh by the way we ran a sweep to the left against our defensive starters and I sealed our end and the running back busted it for a touchdown but NO BIG DEAL OR ANYTHING COACH). I touched it maybe twice in two (three?) years of lacrosse where I played defense and got a 6' long metal stick and the go-ahead from the rulebook to whack people. Wrestling has no ball. And my season and a half at rugby was a disaster when I played 12 and wing in the backfield, but was surprisingly delightful when I shifted to 6. And what do all of those have in common? Essentially, all my job was was to hit people, and the harder the better. Girls don't do that.


Plus injuries, dear lord the injuries. Girls hurt their knees all the time, despite the fact that they don't injure themselves in other ways by doing dumb alpha-male things, like punching each other while wearing football helmets. I would wager that 100% of female basketball players above the age of 14 tear an ACL. Women's ligaments are made of overcooked spaghetti. Then after they rehab, they'll immediately tear their meniscus. Ariane said something about having never hurt her knees, but I am convinced that she actually shredded them and didn't feel anything because the pain in her ankles from however many surgeries she had overpowered it.

If someone gets hurt, I can't see a girl down on the field and point and laugh like I could if it were a Nebraska football player or such. I can't even look at her and think "Awesome, that was their best player!" I would feel bad - and I don't like that women have successfully managed to mix hypothetical feelings into my sports. The only three feelings that should be associated with sports are a.) rage when you lose reducing to emptiness if the losing is perpetual, b.) contentment when you win (not happiness, though; there's another game next week and you could lose that one), and c.) (for Mizzou fans only) a sick feeling in your stomach wondering why you are losing so badly or on special occasions how you're going to blow the lead you have.

Don't watch this:


Side note: Turns out I love watching softball (at least in person). There is something about stick and ball sports that make them infinitely enjoyable in person and bo-ring on TV. I will be dragging Ariane to softball games now, provided they don't conflict with baseball. I'll also be signing Girl up for this when she's old enough. No soccer for her, soccer is boring.

tl;dr: Girls' sports are weirder than I had previously thought, and I hope my daughter doesn't tear up her knees if she plays anything.

My understanding of genetics is lacking

Undoubtedly, one of the more enjoyable things about having (a) child(ren) will be watching them become (an) individual(s) with their own thoughts and opinions. Naturally, I wish this weren't the case, and that my child comes to share my opinions on everything, if not my (alleged) annoying mannerisms. As long as Futurekid turns out to be a good, responsible person, I'll be happy. [Ed. note: Disregard this statement if child becomes a Yankees fan.] I am quite confident that this will be the case for one reason: incredible genetics. This kid is going to blessed with 50% of my DNA (but, like Hollish once noted, this will represent a precipitous drop off from perfection, but human cloning is technologically unreliable right now). Hopefully this 50% includes the engineer wiring in my brain. You know, love of math, science, and general nerdery, thinking in 1's and 0's, enjoying the soothing sound that dial-up internet access used to make on your modem, social awkwardness... well, maybe not everything.

Beyond that, my genetic code is like 75% Gallic. THAT'S RIGHT, ATTENTION NON-AMERICANS: I AM ~3/4 FRENCH (Hollish, Ariane, I'm looking at you - virtually). According to always-accurate stereotypes, this means my child will become a chain smoker (fatherhood: fail), like artsy films (fatherhood: fail), wear berets while riding bicycles with a baguette in the basket (fatherhood: fail, except for the baguette, which is delicious, although carried in a basket, we'll call it a draw), and be a great lover (fatherhood: DO NOT WANT TO THINK ABOUT THIS EVER).


The rest is a mish-mash of Swiss, Spanish (and then Mexican, believe it or not), Scottish, English, and - hell I don't know - let's go with Tajik for kicks.

Add to this the 50% of DNA generously donated by Ariane to water down my genes. In turn, Ariane's DNA is 50% Teutonic. (Does this word apply to all Germanic peoples, or just Germania-based? I am too lazy to look that up.) If you need further explanation as to why that's a good thing, I'll let Vince from ShamWow! yell at you while pointing menacingly.
That's right Vince, their products kick major ass. My child is going to be able to soak up twenty times its weight in cola [Ed. note: Holy shit, that's a lot of cola!], and not just on the surface of the carpet, but underneath! That's your mildew. You know that is going to smell. My kid will also dry sweaters, cars, dishes, etc. Anything wet, really. It's going to be incredible.

The only possible drawback to Ariane's German genes is that it places Futurekid genetically closer to this young lady singer from craptastic teenie-bopper band Tokio Hotel.

Actually, she's pretty hot... What's that you say? That's a 19 year old guy? Shiver.  It's like that chick from Hanson all over again.

Seriously, if I have a boy that ends up like Bill Kaulitz, it's going to be fatherhood: epic fail. A girl that ends up like Bill Kaulitz? Um. I don't know... Epic push? Can a push be epic? With any luck, emokids will have died a quick yet extremely painful cultural death by 2020. (Attn. emokids: If Tokio Hotel isn't emo, guess what, I don't care. Thanks, Mgmt.) Either way, that potential result gets preemptively pinned on Ariane.

The balance is then Croatian. I think it's fair to say that the American grasp on Croatian stereotypes is slim. Maybe that means our kid will be good-ish at basketball?


Because I don't really know a good Croatian basketball player, I posted Darko wearing a stupid wig instead, because c'mon, that's funny. If the kid turns out to have this skill and actually likes basketball, and considering I suuuuuuuuuuuuuck at basketball, that special time in a father's life when kid can beat father in one on one and Dad has to start calling phantom fouls to try to save face might come when Futurekid is like five, even if Futurekid's a girl who is holding a Barbie in her non-dominant hand.

Just please don't become the next Vince from ShamWow! or Billy Mays, Futurekid.  I have a feeling I'm going to have to deal with enough of your screaming during your first years of life.  I won't need you to be doing that on my TV when I'm 60.  

Kinderbloggen has gone global.  This post published from Germany.