heteroNORM!
Favorite term of the week: "heteronorm", which was used as both a noun and a verb at a Title IX conference that too place earlier this week in Cleveland. According to Cindra Kamphoff, a faculty member at UNCC (the University of North Carolina-Cornbread), "heteronorm" is "the process of disguising homosexuality".
Don't you just love academic types? What was wrong with "over-compensate"?
The term appeared in a story that ran in today's "Cleveland Plain Dealer" headlined "Number of Women's Coaches Dwindling". "Pressure to heteronorm", according to Kamphoff, is just one of a number of reasons as to why, percentage-wise, there are fewer women head coaches at Division I women's basketball programs than there were thirty years ago.
Listen. There are some very prominent people--V-E-R-Y P-R-O-M-I-N-E-N-T--in women's college basketball who resemble this neologism. Very prominent coaches. Very prominent commentators. Very prominent players. Very. Prominent.
So? Should they be compelled to reveal their sexual predilection? You want to say No. In fact, you probably should say No. On the other hand, does a potential recruit to that school have the right to ask of that head coach whether or not he (okay, or she?) is gay? Tougher question. If you reply, "Yes, look what happened at LSU with Pokey Chatman", well then my response is that it's just as easy for a male coach to enter into an "inappropriate relationship" with one of his players. In fact, the women's gymnastics coach at Utah, Greg Marsden, did just such a thing with one of his gymnast two decades ago.
They got married. Marsden was never fired. In fact, he remains at Utah and is one of the two or three coaching legends in the sport.
I don't live in a rural town, so it's hard for me to gauge the pressure that a college coach in a small-town commmunity would feel if she outed herself. It seems to me that in 2007 a coach can be open about her (or his) sexuality without any recriminations, whether it be from the media or her university or even the alumni and students. It would seem to me that, in fact, the coach who did not worry about disguising her sexuality would be praised, especially by college-aged kids.
Women's college basketball would benefit greatly if the women who carried these secrets did not wear one face while hanging out at parties during Final Four weekend and another in the public eye. But that's their choice and they have the right to make it. And, besides, that's easy for me to say. I'm hetero.* Not heteronormal.
* The fact that I'm a 40-year-old, never-married, cat-owning, "Gilmore Girls"-watching guy covering the Women's Final Four notwithstanding.
NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM
Last night the NCAA held a VIP/Media party at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. Thoughts, experiences and observations:
1. After having spent three hours skulking around both floors of the party, I'm still unsure as to whom the VIP was. The closest thing we had to a VIP was women's basketball writer emeritus Mel Greenberg , an inimitable character who recently was inducted into another Hall of Fame: The Women's Basketball Hall of Fame.
For years and years, when women's hoops was just getting started, Mel administered the only national women's hoops poll by phoning coaches every Sunday night and gently haranguing them for their rankings. Mention the name "Mel Greenberg" to any legendary women's hoops coach, from Pat Summitt to C. Vivian Stringer to Jody Conradt, and the eyes will roll, a smile will come to their face, and they'll be able to summon a Mel Greenberg story without much effort.
Mel's a one-of-a-kind figure, and nobody in the media has done more to forward women's hoops. But if Caller ID had existed back in the 1970s, I'm wondering where Mel would be today.
2. There should be another R&R Hall of Fame: the Rest and Relaxation Hall of Fame. And it should be located in Sarasota.
3. The other day as I was driving through Ohio I heard an AM radio deejay discussing, in reference to April Fool's Day, the "Musem of Hoaxes" in San Diego. I thought to myself, If there's any justice in the world, the Museum of Hoaxes doesn't actually exist.
Guess what? Justice is served. Whether or not the deejay was aware of it and just toying with listeners, I don't know (it sure didn't sound that way), but a glance on the internet shows that while there is a Museum of Hoaxes, it only exists on-line. The site (MuseumOfHoaxes.com) contains a picture of a building purporting to be the museum, and says that it is in San Diego, but it's just a prank pulled by the site's creator, Alex Boese.
4. The chances of being in the company of so many tall women and also at a Hall of Fame inspired me to use the following time at some point in the evening: "I'm just admiring this bust." Unfortunately, the opportunity never presented itself.
PLANET EARTH (cont.)
Seriously, have you seen this series yet on the Discovery Channel? You have to. Hear me now and listen to me later: Watch this series. Three new episodes airing tonight. Oprah herself recently called it "the best thing I have ever seen on television" and devoted all of Friday's show to it. Now, I LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! "Planet Earth", but I'd have to place it behind the Buffalo Tom episode of My So-Called Life .
Funny you should bring that up out of the blue, JW. Well, here's what happened. On Friday night I finished writing a story at 2:30 a.m. in Bucyrus, Ohio (town motto: "Building a Better Bucyrus"). So I'm not ready to fall asleep--too wired--but there ain't much happening in downtown Bucyrus. At that point all of television becomes the Recovery Channel.
And here is the goldmine of fantastic TV I stumbled upon: a totally out-of-bounds and hilarious Dave Chappelle concert on Comedy Central; a CNN doc, "Grady's Anatomy" (you see, Sanjay Gupta's a resident at the Atlanta trauma center, and I'm sure for awhile now, ever since the first time he heard the term "McDreamy", that he's been begging his bosses at CNN to do this; strangely enough, Grady is the hospital that received the injured Bluffton baseball players when their bus crashed, the players whom I'd been writing about that night); a wonderfully cheesy-scary Vincent Price horror film, "Diary of a Madman" (featuring no music by Ozzy Osbourne, in case you were curious); and, at 5 a.m., the signature episode in the best television series ever to be canceled after one season, "My So-Called Life".
It's the episode where Mr. Cool, Jordan Catalano (Jared Leto), finally admits to himself that he's got a thing for cute-but-not-yet-"Family Stone"-level hot Angela Chase (Claire "Tell It To My Heart" Danes). This one episode is better than almost every teen film you've ever seen. And, so yes, it's even better than "Planet Earth."
On the other hand, if at some point the PE producers decide to use the eponymous Duran Duran tune as their theme song, I may reconsider.
Whatchu Talkin 'Bout? Willis!
NBA News: Did you see that the Dallas Mavericks are going to offer a 10-day contract to 44 year-old former Atlanta Hawk center Kevin Willis. Nice. The Phoenix Suns are going to counter by offering a three-year deal to former Chicago Bull big man Tom Boerwinkle, who's a spry 61.
Did you catch the Suns-Warriors game the other night? Ridonkulous. Golden State looked like their 1975 version, and at one point of the 4th quarter went up by 23. Mike D'Antoni pulled his starters, and then behind Leandro Barbosa (the league's best non-starter), Marcus Banks and Kurt Thomas, Phoenix pulled to within six with 50 seconds to play. And they had the ball.
It was hilarious. Marv Albert, Reggie Miller and Steve Kerr were debating whether D'Antoni should put his starters back in. Do you seriously try to win the game at that point with your best players? Or do you maintain the mojo and reward the subs for clawing back in the first place? D'Antoni made (in my opinion) the right move, staying with the subs. And, sure, Baron Davis picked Marcus Banks' pocket on the very next play, scoring a layup and ending the drama. But that was the right move.
Afterward, Chuck Barkley (Dwyane Wade's dad) reminded viewers that a month ago he had said that the Suns needed to play their reserves more often (he had; I heard it). That Warrior game proved him right. The Suns look a little fatigued right now--and I don't know if Boerwinkle can compensate for that.
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About this blog
NBCSports.com's John Walters goes into the world of college sports and well beyond. From Notre Dame to the latest in pop culture, JDub tackles it all.
Not sure you are even normal....
It would be fun to see the madcap rivalry between Boerwinkle and Boris (Diaw).
Is it me, or does Bob Starkey look a little too much like the guy in "Raiders of the Lost Ark" who burned his hand on the too-hot medallion, then got melted at the end? Never seen 'em in the same room at the same time, that's all I'm saying.
Somehow it seems strangely appropriate to post an inaugural
comment on JW's website on April Fools Day. Isn't the act of looking for the VIP at a Women's Basketball function considered oxymoronic behavior? But we've already established that there is no baseline for normalcy. Also, so proud of JW for jumping on the Planet Earth bandwagon prior to Oprah. Next thing you know, she'll be setting up a base camp in beautiful Sun Lakes, Arizona.
John, I just found your blog and am late to this topic. Thank you for posting about it.
I'm a lesbian and a long-time women's college basketball fan. "Heteronorm" was a new word for me. "Pass" (as straight) is a simpler way to say it. That gay women coaches are in the closet in 2007 is both ridiculous and sad. Especially since, as you wrote, they step out of that closet when safely away from the public eye. (That's like being a lesbian decades ago, let me tell you!)
Now that Pokey Chatman's unethical behavior has outed her, it makes me sick that she's the one and only known lesbian coach in D-I women's hoops. Yet, I and many other fans (gay and straight) and reporters like you are well aware of other lesbian coaches, via the grapevine. Someday I hope to read in an official biography about Coach X and her long-time partner, Associate Coach Y. We certainly get told lots and lots about husbands, don't we?