We’ve heard and read the multitude of stories through the years from female sports reporters about sexist treatment in the industry. Infamous tales of jock straps being thrown, gang-up verbal abuse and flat-out questioning why or how a woman got into the clubhouse to do her job. Misogyny and hyper masculinity have run roughshod over women who often felt helpless; or when they did try to do something about it faced fan backlash or team resistance. Fans voices have more dangerous impact and verbal abuse is dialed up, without consequence, in today’s social media saturated world.
There are many stories women have privately shared through the years, and I have plenty of my own. We’ve long understood that the sports industry was the last sacred boy’s club. Our growing presence, and power, changes the rules and the entire foundation that boy’s club was built on. We’re cool with the questions about how much we really know. And by cool, I mean we try to keep our cool without physically lunging or throwing a ballpark hot dog at dudes who question us, both as sports fans, professional writers/reporters, and bloggers. Private chats about the issue usually include a strong element of humor, with genuine shock and frustration peppering the salty discourse.
A female baseball executive once reached out to me for advice about a guy who worked for the team who’d pointed at her, whispering remarks at the tall blonde in the clubhouse. He drew attention to her, as if any needed to be, as if she needed her job to be more difficult. Female reporters have dealt with accusations to their face about being too friendly, and what that implies
We’ve talked about creepy, relentless texts, calls and DMs. A coach once harassed me for two weeks via text until I just ignored him, without any smiley face polite nice-girl stuff. I finally just chose silence because I’d had enough of being polite. We face the ridicule and snickering, the flat out sexually charged remarks, and we quietly go to the teams when we feel it’s necessary. Then we go to each other. And in our quiet space, we vent. We vent the hell out of it all. The words we refrain from saying to the faces of the players, coaches, fans and fellow male reporters, we say to each other. It’s comforting. We know we’re not alone.
But there’s a deeper hidden other aspect that we don’t often talk about or even acknowledge. And I’ve often felt I wasn’t allowed. Because acknowledging the sexism and misogyny from men in baseball and male fans was, and remains, our main concern because of the power they still hold. They’ve used that sexist power to keep us from jobs we were qualified for or diminished us to a body type on social media, casually accusing a female sideline reporter of such obvious sexual attraction to the player she’s interviewing. Because this male behavior is so offensive and aggressive, we focus on them. Admittedly, I expect misogyny and slut-shaming from men. Sadly, that doesn’t shock or disappoint me. What’s been far more disappointing are the attitudes and words of other female baseball reporters and women in the industry.
I wrote recently on this blog about Erin Andrews, recalling a conversation I’d had not long after nude footage of her was taken by a stalker. In the conversation, a female reporter acidly pondered, “I mean, who does naked lunges?” I remember the shock that ran through me. This is how we treat each other? Where’s your guts?
A few years ago, a baseball writer wrote about how she no longer wears skirts and dresses, because it’s just easier not to send a certain message. She also talked maddeningly about not tilting her head to interview a player because it sends some sort of sexual signal. I always tilt my head when I speak to people. It’s a habit. I do it out of curiosity and when I’m really engaged, it’s just a thing I do. But, ok, apparently I’ve been quietly communicating my desire to have sex with nearly every person I’ve ever talked to in my life.
These ideas about women are everywhere. In the sports world, where we’re breaking more and more barriers, we’re fighting those ideas every day, with every story we write and report. Women being in sports is still a thing and men won’t let it go. Women allowing those man-made rules to dictate how we act and how we’re judged only make progress harder. That whole, ‘Oh, she’s affecting her industry by dating [that player/coach/manager]! She’s making things so much harder for all the women who are actually working hard and deserve* respect!” Oh please. Spare me the convenient nonsense. When women parrot men and make similar disparaging remarks about other women in the industry, THAT is what holds us back. THAT is the problem. If you can’t beat ‘em, don’t join ‘em. It won’t help us.
When I began, I was blessed to be naïve about the industry. I didn’t realize how much resistance I’d face from players, coaches, male reporters and male fans. I wasn’t prepared for blatant verbal abuse, a player to physically confront me in the clubhouse, a coach asking what I was doing in the dugout pre-game (there were other male reporters around), or male reporters doing things like putting a hand on my leg in the press box while chastising me during a baseball debate. I’ve written and talked about my history with relationship violence in the last few years, and how those experiences shaped me and now motivate and inspire my life in baseball. I needed to bring all my toughness to the job; otherwise I wouldn’t be able to survive in the business, or thrive, and be happy and productive.
Having mostly covered the minor leagues, there were few to no other women in the press box. Social media helped me connect with more women in the industry as well as female fans, who experienced their own sexist backlash in the stands from male know-it-all fans. When I’d go up to the majors on assignment, I’d see more women, but didn’t know how to approach anyone. I’ve mostly stayed to myself.
But what also stands out is that while there was a heavy dose of sports-guy ‘We’re naturally born knowing and understanding sports’ sexist garbage and male-fraternizing, it was men who reached out to help me the most. When I cite mentors in the minors or majors, in any part of the industry, I mention men. When women were around, they weren’t welcoming, some were downright nasty and others just shut me out. There are other women, women whom I’ve come to know on a more personal level, who’ve felt that same scorn or lack of camaraderie. You can make the case for competitiveness in some cases, where we’re all aware that there are fewer slots allowed for women in the sports department, staff or for on-air talent. But that only explains part of the problem and doesn’t excuse treating each other badly.
In the same way that men in the industry have been blatant jerks, so too have women. One, so aggressively unkind and self-important, inspired a character in my screenplay, ‘Minor League Guys’ because, frankly, she seemed like an unreal character that only a man would imagine. You know, cold and calculating, with a villainous sneer. I found it hard to believe she existed, so I had to write about the experience. I felt sexist writing her, but reminded myself that what I was creating actually happened. That lack of shock I feel when men are terrible? I’m shocked when women are. Maybe I shouldn’t be.
But to that point, same as the guys, there are all the subtle but loud ways women in the industry telegraph their attitude toward other women in sports. I felt this early on in the business, but I’ve been more keenly aware of it in the last couple of years. Particularly this year, which inspired me to write out this whole thing and call on women to take a minute and consider their own attitude, the one we seem to believe we only need to fight when men do it. What inspired me to finally, fully address this issue, was thinking about the girls who are entering this business, who ask me for advice, who are seeing this industry through the spectrum that is intensely image-driven and social media-drenched. I think about them often and how to answer the questions they ask me.
A few things come to mind when I think of the female baseball community, particularly bloggers, and that’s the way we rally to fight verbal abuse. Many sites, reporters and bloggers have been taken to task for their readers, and at times, writers, sexually charged comments that to some might seem unimportant or all in good humor. Those comments have crossed the line to bullying and intimidation. While they’re not responsible for all their readers’ mentality, many in the baseball world have asked them to consider their responsibility. It’s fair for all of us who write to be asked that question. In many of those exchanges with male sports fans, they use demeaning language that women are all too familiar with. It can be demoralizing and, at times, frightening.
In the face of extreme behavior, you need all your warriors. We have to stand tough and unapologetic against dudes who are being blatantly misogynistic, using intimidation without fear of consequence. Women in sports know the depth of that misogyny. It’s not new. And when we rally together with humor, intelligence and fearlessness, it makes me proud. I get excited when I see women taking absolutely no sh**. It inspires me to continue to do the same.
When we’re battling those extremists language, how can we possibly turn the spotlight on each other as women? I mean, we can’t right? We talk about our feminism and our solidarity, so there’s no way we’re part of the problem. Right?
I wrote about this a bit earlier this year on the blog, when I stressed the importance of female mentoring. As I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, I didn’t have the benefit of female mentors in baseball. It wasn’t for lack of trying. I reached out to veteran women who cast me aside. I tried to be social and friendly with other women, like the older baseball photographer who wouldn’t respond to me when I chatted or said hello; she was more than friendly with the boys club she seemed happy to be accepted into. Women often judge each other more harshly than men and go to great lengths to wound each other if there’s any sense of perceived female competition, where the prize is literally nothing. I’ve felt the humiliating, infuriating sting of female judgment in this business.
It’s men who’ve played their “macho sh**head games” (thank you ‘Tootsie’), but they haven’t made me feel utterly dejected, sometimes used and betrayed, and very much alone in the baseball community. Women have.
It’s the subtle rejections that have felt powerful in message. Over the years, I’ve developed great relationships with women in the baseball community via Twitter. Some connected when they said they looked up to me, others were women whom I admired and wanted to learn from. Others are fans, passionate, opinionated, fun as hell and whip smart. Many of them have day jobs, but maintain blogs about their favorite team or league. I have a ton of great memories, both on Twitter and in-person with so many of them. On the other hand, I’ve dealt with the cold shoulder and the complete freeze out. It was during discussions about baseball writing by women, and discussions about domestic violence, that I noticed a community of support that, no matter what I did, I got a cool response or was totally ignored. I’ve reached out to women privately or promoted their work, or recommended people follow them, all in the name of feminist solidarity and simply promoting great baseball writing. My other intention was to spotlight women doing it and doing it well. When there wasn’t much response or no reciprocation, I let it slide. It’s social media, not a birthday party with family. I get it and focus instead on valuing those that do connect, while also viewing kindness and support as something that doesn’t need reward. I believe in that completely. But what struck me, what did bother me and start creeping up on my radar was noticing how much they were supporting and promoting each other. That red flag went up, when I considered I might be falling short of what I’ll call the ‘acceptable feminist’. And in this context, the acceptable kind in baseball.
I’ve often listened to women in sports talk about each other in terms of looks and behavior; women who accused other women of flirting, wearing clothes that are too revealing and more. A lot of it I define as personality judgment. That’s a tricky one, but has been easy for me to spot, because I’m extremely friendly, bordering on bubbly. I will freely compliment someone and I’m super crazy good at small talk. I will talk about boring weather patterns and listen to you talk about them with great enthusiasm, even if I don’t feel it. But I’m also cautious, a worrier, and far better communicator on paper (or in a text) then I am in person. I don’t like personal questions and will literally ignore you if you ask me something I don’t like. But overall, when I’m around other women in baseball, I immediately want to reach out, give a welcoming smile, have a chat. Sometimes I ask if someone needs help or if it’s someone who’s been around, I watch them for cues about who to talk to for information and how things are run around the press box, and in dealing with the team. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been my friendly warm self only to be shut down. Many times I’ve sat in a press box that had the one regular female reporter and been completely ignored. I can’t imagine being the veteran resident chick and not saying hello to the new woman. Press boxes are full of men. It’s nice, in my view, to see another female face. You know that scene in ‘Wild’ where Cheryl, played by Reese Witherspoon, meets another woman on the trail and enthusiastically says, “You’re a woman!” It’s what came to mind. We’re out here in our own ‘Wild’.
It’s hard for me to ignore the snobbery in my own experience; how some women in baseball are worthy of notice and support, and others, don’t make the cut. And if your reaction to reading this is that I’m being emotional or paranoid, remember how frustrated we are as feminists when we talk about the layers of sexist language that men often don’t understand. Don’t passively dismiss me.
At this point, I can take it. I’ve done this long enough to handle whatever comes my way. But for girls coming up behind me, I’m telling you, we’re not paying enough attention. What if I was a new writer, fresh to the game, trying to find my confidence by connecting through social media? I want them to be immediate members of the club. I want them to be encouraged and invited, because I know how hard it was for me to build my career and build my confidence without a ton of that support or encouragement. I look back now and it was FU**ING hard.
I see a lot of cliquey-ness; female cliques that seem no different to me than junior high or high school. I’ve seen female baseball writers diminished by female fans, accusatory of their intentions. Over the years I’ve observed typical female competition and judgment spill over into how we view each other as women in sports and sports fans: the sniping about being ‘A REAL fan’. All sexist code for making other girls feel less than. Instead of biting at each other about trendy clothes and boys, women are bullying each other in the context of sports fandom. “I’m a smart, serious girl. You’re a dumb slut,” is now, “I’m a knowledgeable, real sports fan, you’re a dumb slut.”
I didn’t write this as a way to point fingers, because I point that laser at myself too. I’ve seen ways I could improve the discourse and outreach, and I haven’t always succeeded. But I’ll keep on trying. I wrote this more as a clarion call, or maybe as a concerned letter to a friend. It’s not meant to be a takedown.
I think I’m asking if we are taking all the time to see each other. To have this thing recognized by other women, because I know many feel it as I have. I love being around the boys, as much as the girls in the press box. I love being in the dugout and listening to teammates talk trash on each other. I love the wildness, the weirdness, the uniqueness of covering baseball. I love talking shop with other baseball writers. Whatever about it changes, let’s never stop having fun loving the game and loving to write about all of its beauty, glory and unpredictability. Everything we love usually has imperfections. I just want to call out those moments in the female gaze in this industry that led me to feel unfit, awkward, embarrassed, and sometimes completely degraded.
I’m aware that this is my personal experience and each of us has our own. I’m sure there are women in this industry who’ve worked around other women, and their relationships are ones they cherish and have gained wisdom from. I wish I’d had more of that. Maybe this is the condition of being both intensely private, and also covering the minor leagues and independent leagues, where there’s a sense that the rest of the baseball world is very separate. Maybe I’ve created a rather tough shell to crack, at least on a personal level. But I was always available as a writer. I was always open, perhaps even searching for connection. I’m grateful for all of the people I’ve connected with through my writing and social media. I realize now how powerful intention and surrender to my better self is, even in the baseball context. I still harbor insecurity or moments where I say or do the wrong thing. Everyone does. But I see myself now. And what I have, I love. What I’ve never quite had in my baseball career, I miss. I know what it is to be able to say, I’ve missed it. But what I really care about here, is that other girls new to the business don’t miss it. We talk about inclusion in sports, but as women we also have to be held accountable for inclusion.
So if you’re a woman in baseball, new, sort of new, been around the baseball block a few times, or damn near a million times, just consider this. Just be mindful. Don’t hesitate to reach out, even with a small kind word of encouragement, or just ‘hello’. Hand that new girl today’s lineup, or watch the veteran woman, whom people admire and who seems genuinely kind. When I stood up for women being allowed in the Staten Island Yankees clubhouse in 2013 (yes, 2013), after seeing two girls standing in wait in the dugout, because they’d been told they weren’t permitted to go with the male reporters, it wasn’t easy. I was arguing with a bunch of men and my face was on fire. I was alone in that fight. That wasn’t a moment where I cared whether I was liked or seemed like a nice person. It was a moment where I cared about the treatment of female reporters and getting the job done, which was my right. Having each other’s backs can only strengthen our position in this changing, growing industry.
I’m also to the point of wanting to beg other female reporters not to criticize other women in the industry about dating players and coaches, which comes to mind in light of latest report on Red Sox manager John Farrell and team beat reporter Jessica Moran. I want to say to them, as an act of defiance, ignore all traps male reporters set for you to degrade other women so that you can be the ‘acceptable, respectable’ female sports reporter. Not going to name names here, but a few male reporters were all too delighted to hit Moran for her relationship with Farrell, framing it as her failure as a woman and female sports reporter. When women are backing up your sexist views, your job is so easy. Gee, guy, ya think those female reporters want to rock the boat? The system has been set up for us to fail. Don’t expect them to say anything different when they know how harshly we’re judged. I defiantly reject judging women in this business, because men do it enough. I ain’t buyin’.
I wish suggestions to regard each other without judgment about attention female reporters receive for the length of their skirts or who their relationships are with had impact. I say, recognize her achievements and find what it is about her you admire, and then call on more of that in your own life. Don’t sit around and gossip, just freaking don’t. Stop. I mean it. Do not walk past a female reporter and treat her as I and so many women have been treated, or ignore her reaching out to you when she wants advice or tries to connect on social media. We all come across people we choose not to trust or keep distance from. That’s normal. There are people in this business you aren’t always going have good relationships with. But being open and supportive is so important. It can create big change and impact someone in ways you may not immediately be aware of. I can tell you it matters. And I envision how powerful it could be if we continue to hold each other up, and unite to create more female-run sports websites and other content.
Yes, men’s abusive language and continuing sexist language, as well as their advantage must be addressed directly and fought hard. But the female baseball community is as responsible, and their words more meaningful, in the message they send to other female writers.
*We already do deserve respect. And I’m not here to earn the holy blessing of respect of male colleagues doing the same job I am. And that also goes for players, whose opinion of us doesn’t matter. Have you heard some of their opinions of and behavior towards women? So, no, we don’t need to earn or deserve respect like good little girls. We just need to do our job, be ourselves and be happy. To my female colleagues, that’s all that matters and will matter most when all is said and done.