Today’s story is brought to you by sexist men being assholes. Oh hold on, you are angry, you might think. Well yes! I am allowed to be angry, because these men have no idea how what they say will affect their own daughters. I am sorry but I feel bad for their wives. What type of sexist annoying conversation can you have with these type of men?
Ok, let’s rewind and go into the story.
It was Tuesday. Monday had gone by, we were all settling into our work routine when my calendar reminded me I had a meeting. As always, I got a coffee to go and went to the meeting early. (I should learn not to go to meetings early, as stupid conversation tend to happen- remember “I sometimes help my wife with the house” story?).
So there I sat with my latte waiting for everyone else. Men started arriving, yes I say men because only men arrived. Yet again I was the only woman in the team.
Flor, just continue drinking your latte, small talk will not lead to another blog post, I thought. Oh boy I was wrong!
The silence was awkward and being the person I am, I couldn’t help but poke the bear: “Hey, did you guys hear about the first woman to referee an all men's football game?”
It is obvious, my blog follows me around; I can’t help but wonder what type of men I have in front of me and I have to ask a question. Poke the bear, yes. Was I ready for the answer? No! I would have imagined some sort of sexist comment by one or two of the men present, but I wasn’t expecting what happened.
“What does a woman have to do in a football match?” Said one.
“Specially an all men's football match” said another one.
Oh great, grab your pen and start writing, because this will end up in a post someday.
“She is a referee, and she did a great job, I think it is time for women and men to have the same job opportunities, don’t you think?” “But what does a women have to do with football?” Said number one, aka Bob. He seemed surprised by the fact that a woman could like football.
“Women are very good at football, look at Abby Wambach, she has scored more goals than any men”
“Yes, but against women” Lovely Bob said.
"What does that have to do with it? She is the best player in the world, whether you like it or not." I replied.
“Women don’t like football, look at our football team” Bob said as if those words proved a point or something.
“Do you have women in your team?” I asked as if I was intrigued but I already knew the answer.
“No, because they don’t like football” Oh Bob, what a delightful answer!
Oh boy, call me down, I said to myself. My blood was boiling. I played football all throughout highschool and football is a sport I really like. There was no way they would understand what I was trying to say, so I wondered: “if I can’t change their mind by speaking, maybe I can do so by a bit of demonstration”
“Can I join your team?” I said. That was exactly what I was going to do. The feminist in me wanted to prove a point. If I had to join their team for a while, I would, anything to prove them that women can play football.
“Why? Would you like to? Hahaha” he laughed.
I, on the other hand, didn’t laugh. “Yes, are you afraid I will beat you?” Now I was speaking their language. “I played football all throughout highschool, I bet I can remember some tricks”
I thought I was winning the conversation, I was almost in the team, I could beat these middle age businessman for sure, or that is what I kept saying to myself.
“I don’t think you should join, we play very aggressively”
What was I doing? I was going to join a football team just to prove these three men wrong. Since when sexist men had become so important in my life as to decide to train twice a week and play every Saturday? I love my Saturday mornings, I read and write and drink nice coffee. This men weren’t worth giving up my Saturday mornings!
“I think you are just afraid, but whatever”
And the meeting started. I had the last word! However, I wondered: do men realize how insulting it is to assume that women don’t like nor know anything about football?
Do mean understand that we, as women, can beat them on the football field?