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No
matter what they say, men do not want women in sports. I suppose there could be
one exception: women’s basketball, and then only if they didn’t wear bras. Otherwise,
never mind the dirty looks from their wives and daughters, female colleagues,
or even the equal rights legal stuff that says they have to let us in. They simply
do not want women journalists in locker rooms, announcing sport events, or on
the back of a horse in the Kentucky Derby.
Women know this. Women do not
care. Women will do it all anyway.
But what about the Super Bowl? Have
men at last created a devious way to defeat us, a method so diabolically clever
that it is actually worthy of womanhood itself?
We may well have a favorite
team and have already phoned our bookies but what we cannot do is figure out which
Super Bowl is being played. Take the game this coming Sunday. It’s between the
New England Patriots and the New York Giants. Where is it being played? In Indianapolis.
And that’s just the start. It’s called “Super Bowl XLVI.” What?
On the
front of Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, workers already installed a giant
sign that just says XLVI. Why they aren’t even called numbers, they’re called
numerals. What’s that about anyway?
It has to be a man plot. Super Bowl
use of Roman numerals only started in 1971, same year women in Switzerland were
finally allowed to vote. This sounds like a Revenge Move to me.
What,
they can’t call this Sunday’s game Super Bowl 46?
It’s definitely a plot
against women. The numbers may be Roman, but they’re all Greek to me.
©
Maggie
Van Ostrand,
February
9, 2012 column
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