Years ago, I was a sportswriter. I received my Bachelor of Arts degree from Colorado State University in 1985 and it had been my life-long dream to write about sports.
I wasn't just ANY sportswriter; I was a FEMALE sportswriter. Nowadays it is not a big deal to see women, at every level, covering sports, but then? Oh, it was. In my role, years ago, I encountered many challenges. Some were good, some not so good. I was extremely young at the time, somewhat naïve and a bit foolish.
If I had known then what I know now, things would have been much different. But isn't that what we all say?
How would things have been different, you ask? I would have stuck up for myself, for one thing. It was rare, in those days, to see a woman covering professional sporting events. It was also uncommon for me to cover them as I mostly was assigned to high school and college sporting events.
When I use the word "woman," I use it loosely as I was only 21 years old at the time. I was just a girl, dressed up in woman's clothing. But I could write well and I knew sports, particularly football. That is all that should have mattered. If only it were...
I remember one episode as if it were yesterday. I was covering the Denver Broncos, along with the sports editor of my newspaper, at the team's training camp. We were standing on the sidelines, Jim and I, watching the action and taking notes, just like every other member of the media.
Suddenly, I noticed a player running out of bounds, headed straight for me. Of course, I bolted out of the way, just like everyone else in the player's path. As I moved, I let out what I remember to be a little scream, which was not out of line, considering I am five feet four and weighed 105 pounds at the time. My mama didn't raise a fool, after all. Following the drama, I looked to my right and saw a fellow journalist (a male) mimicking me and laughing. All I could do was shake my head. What was I supposed to do, let a 250-pound running back demolish little ole me in one fell swoop? I think not.
A week or so later, I was sitting in the press box at a Broncos pre-season game, frantically keeping track of each play in my notebook. It was the biggest event I had covered in my young career and I was taking it quite seriously.
As I sat scribbling notes, the same man that had made fun of me at training camp was back at it. He glanced at Jim, my editor, winked and said, "What is she doing, making her grocery list?"
I was horrified and it must have been written all over my face. Jim, quite familiar with my strong-willed personality, saw the burning displeasure on my face. He whispered, "Don't respond, Erin. Cool down. Just let it go." I reluctantly obeyed, but the experience left me angry, confused, disillusioned and disappointed.
Afterward, Jim and I joked about the situation and found comfort in the fact that this man was a joke himself. But no jokes could take away the pain and shame I felt. Even thinking about it today makes me feel disheartened. In fact, every time I hear Taylor Swift's "Mean" I think about him and it gets my blood boiling all over again!
I am happy to report that justice was served, though it was not as swift as I would have liked. Years later, I heard that this man was let go by the media outlet he had worked at for many years. The rumor was that he was replaced by a -- you guessed it -- woman. (I am purposely leaving his name out of this story because many of those reading this would recognize his name immediately).
When I decided to pursue my dream of sportswriting I did so for multiple reasons. First, I had a love of writing that, clearly, has never diminished. Second, I had a love of sports. I felt that, in some small way, I could make a difference with my writing. To this day, I still believe this.
I wrote sports for 4.5 years and experienced great success, but also some failures. Unfortunately, the majority of the negative things I experienced had nothing to do with what I wrote or what I did, but what sex I was. To me that is a travesty.
I am much older now and, I'd like to think, wiser. Things have progressed a great deal in our society so I'd like to believe that what I experienced is no longer the norm, but a rare occurrence. As a woman, I may never understand completely what it means to score a touchdown, hit a home run or make a slam dunk. I have never played sports.
But I do know what it feels like to be human. All I have ever wanted, like everyone else, is to be treated with honor and dignity. I think I deserve those things for simply being a human who just happens to be a woman.
My Life as a Female Sportswriter
