the 4th star

After ignoring a 25 year layoff, with three of those spent begging to play, I have decided to make a triumphant return to the beautiful game. In a stunning act of charity, the Crescentwood Saturday Soccer Club has done the unthinkable and allowed me to play with them in the Winnipeg Soccer Division this summer. If I can score one goal this year, I’d be pretty happy. Judging from my inconsistent play, my teammates would be equally ecstatic, too. Here’s the weekly update:

Another game, another lesson learned from the hopeful forward who has no idea what he’s doing out there. First to the big picture, where the mighty CSSC (4-2-3) jumped out to a quick two goal lead only to watch the South End Casuals (4-3-3) take things a little more serious and tie the match before the first half was in the books. I may be speaking out of school here, but a 10 minute lapse did us in again. Seems to be of our own doing, too. No worries. It will comes. Further salt in the wound comes in the form of knowing that our opponent played with just 10 players. That stings, yes, but I look at it this way: They played hard, knowing they needed to pick up the slack. If they had a full squad, perhaps the South Enders play it a little more Casual, and the CSSC prevail.

Also still in its theory stage is this crazy notion that I will score a goal before I die. Unlike previous close chances where I still am trying to set the ball on a tee, Tuesday’s opportunity for glory proved to be even more cruel.

Here’s the deal: I’m out on the right side. The defender in check has already had some issues with balls bouncing over his head, so he’s creeping up make sure any errant balls can be taken before the rock-hard turf comes into play. An offering comes out to my side, towards the middle of the field. Running as fast as I can, I get past the flat footed defender and find myself with a chance for a shot in the box. Moments before the defender makes a desperation slide, the ball finally settles for me and I take my shot. The keeper is off the line so I hit a hard one over him with my right foot, thinking it will fade and fall under the bar. It does eventually drop, but not soon enough. Off the bar, straight back into the play. I smack my hands together and run back to position as the game moves back towards the middle of the pitch. So close, but so far away.

A message to our stations: That will be it for the CSSC updates for the next two weeks. I’m going to Montana on the weekend to gaze up at the Big Sky and collect my thoughts…

I never understood the attraction to Erin Andrews. The ESPN sideline reporter probably never really registered with me — a man — as I never really cared about NCAA sport in all its forms. That’s where she is usually found, on the sidelines in Ann Arbor or courtside at Chapel Hill. I never tune in to those games, and as a result, I never had a chance to really watch her and then fall in love with her as seemingly every college sports fan eventually does.

Pretty girl at sporting event on television. Me like.

So, because I never really watched, I have no idea if Andrews is any good at what she does. No idea if she’s credible. No idea if she’s competent. I do know this: Television is a visual medium and when it’s on a national cable network geared towards men between the ages of 18-34, she needn’t worry about her employment situation. Sadly, given the boo-yah network she works for and its mantra that the packaging is just as (or even more) important than the story inside the box, I suspect being a beautiful blonde woman will always cast a shadow onto what kind of reporter she is. A terrible notion to push out into the light of day, but why not bring things like this into the open and see what they look like?

Think about how you react when you see a national female sports reporter on television. Are you listening to what she is saying, or are you wondering what she would want for breakfast the next day? Be honest with the answer. Even right now as I type this, I wonder why I put things like Hump Day and Man Sandwich on this blog? Pictures of beautiful women and hot guys, with little malice directed or intended. They seem innocent enough.

Thanks to Andrews’ case — where her name, looks, reputation, and how all three are treated by society has come onto the front burner thanks to unwelcome and disturbing recent events — female sports media celebrity and how the topic is considered by the masses is now being discussed around the biosphere blogosphere (led by the great work from these guys). The discussion is everywhere. I wonder what will come of it, if anything, as the formula has been set in stone for some time now:

Good looking broad + television is a visual medium + looks are part of national TV sports reporting = male libido + internet buzz on how hot (insert name here) is + increased viewership.

It’s been this way for as long as I can remember. Sadly, the equation continues to yield results.

It’s been nearly 20 years since reporter Lisa Olson, then of the Boston Herald, was sexually harassed by some New England Patriots, whose actions were later condoned by the team’s then-owner, Victor Kiam. Since then, some sports have made strides in the area of race. In terms of gay issues, sports lags behind the cultural curve. And in terms of women … well, maybe in sports, not so much has changed.