I’m just going to start by saying I love sport.
All kinds of sport… well, except cricket, I just don’t get that at all.
There’s nothing that pleases me more than heading off on a Sunday afternoon to watch a game, even if I’ve no real grá for either of the teams.
Weird for some people, maybe, but for me, the best job ever.
Unfortunately, the battle for women in sport to gain more recognition is an ongoing and uphill one… and it’s not just on the pitch that it happens.
I get it that not everybody knows or probably even cares about the rules of different games. But it’s the presumption by men that I know absolutely nothing that really drives me bonkers.
It’s the condescending, patronising “uh, do you even know what the offside rule is?” attitude that I cannot stand.
It really bugs me. To the point that I want to go and learn every rule of every sport upside down and off by heart just so I can throw it back in their faces at some really obscure point in time.
Yes, I am a bit weird in my plot for revenge but it REALLY annoys me!
And what frustrates me even more is if they decide to ‘believe’ that you watch/have an interest in sport, they actually test you like – “did you see that amazing goal X scored in some really insignificant game back in 1990?”
No, no I didn’t. Because I was like FIVE.
Now, imagine this frustration combined with being a female sports reporter who has to head off to a hurling match in the middle of the country.
Bear in mind, this was just a run-of-the-mill, not majorly significant, hurling league game between two local junior clubs.
First off, I was greeted at the gate with, “Aren’t you a lovely little thing?”
*Blood starts to boil*
Now don’t get me wrong, every girl loves a good compliment but I wasn’t really there to partake in a lovely girls’ competition.
After being grilled about where the ‘real’ journalists from the newspaper were, the man asked me if I knew the rules of hurling and would I like some help.
*Bites tongue*
And people wonder why I get thick?!
Now bear in mind, I’d been covering the sports scene at this stage for a good while.
I averaged about five games a weekend, the odd few mid-week and may possibly have seen more junior hurling games at that stage than he’d had hot dinners.
The lovely gentleman proceeded to follow me down to the sideline and commentate the entire game standing behind me.
He included explanations of what a ’65 was, why it was a penalty not a free and that the lads are allowed to sub on players during the game.
I kid you not.
This is just a small example of the obstacles I’ve come up against at grounds around the country.
After a few years though, people knew my face and I was trusted to stand on the sideline and understand what was going on all on my own.
Woohoo.
Then, I moved to another county, reporting once again on the local sporting action.
I was dreading having to start from scratch, fighting my way in at the gates, convincing people I was a ‘real’ journalist but to my shock, not one person batted an eyelid at me.
I couldn’t fathom it. It had obviously just been a certain few that were stuck in the old ways, right? Wrong.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later, when another girl landed beside me in the press box and we started exchanging war stories, that I realised that she had already fought those battles.
One of hers included getting stopped at a gate for a game and having to ring her editor to come down and vouch for the fact that she was actually there to report on the game.
Yes, really.
She’d been covering sport in the area for three years and so made my job a hell of a lot easier. For that, I will be eternally grateful.
But just when you start to get complacent about it all, there’s another ignoramus ready to slam you back into your place.
A while later, I was sent to cover an enormous sports conference ahead of the upcoming season.
In a room of thirty men, I was the only woman.
I was talked over, basically ignored and when I was given chance to speak, they smiled indulgently at me before moving on.
I now understand why anger management classes are a thing.
As I said, that’s just a small glimpse behind the scenes.
So when you see my head about to explode on the sideline of some pitch somewhere, you know why.
Or when you look at the girl arguing randomly in the pub over some point scored in an obscure game in the 1990s, you’ll understand the reason.
If that’s how I feel, I can’t even begin to imagine the frustration for female athletes themselves.
The best part of it all though?
When some irate man rings up the newspaper demanding to speak to the fella who wrote that match report at the weekend.
“Sorry, he’s not here at the moment.”
And to all you ladies out there flying the flag for women in sport both on and off the pitch – and there are a lot – I salute you.
https://youtu.be/aN7lt0CYwHg
Video via YouTube/This Girl Can
