January 28, 2005

Women’s Basketball Longtime readers of

Women’s Basketball

Longtime readers of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” have no doubt recognized the fact that it has been some time since we have treated a subject to an extended excoriation. As a result, no doubt, some of our rabid fans were certainly worried that we had, as they say in Hollywood, “lost our edge.”

Where, many devotees must be wondering, has all the rancor gone—long time passing?

Well, dear reader, in today’s humble post, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aim to demonstrate that we are as wrathful and unmerciful as ever.

Accordingly, we figured that we needed a subject that fully deserved a savaging. Something really heavy-duty: You know, like Communism or, better yet, Tony Danza. We don’t want to waste our time ripping apart lightweights such as Michael Moore. If you know what we mean.

After literally minutes of careful, semi-undivided thought on this topic, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” finally honed in on an appropriate target of obloquy. For those of you who proved incapable of reading the title of today’s post, we are pleased as prideful popinjays to announce today’s subject: Women’s basketball.

Indeed, dear reader, there are so many things that collectively irk us about women’s basketball that we hardly know where to begin. First, we suppose, we ought to mention the bothersome nature of women’s basketball fans.

For some reason, such fans perceive that disliking women’s basketball is somehow deeply immoral. This, naturally, is a quizzical conclusion: Bowling connoisseurs seldom seem morally disturbed by those who don’t share their love of balls and pins.

Yet inform a women’s basketball fan that you think the sport is clumsy and unwatchable, and you’ll be the recipient of a Susan Faludi-esque lecture. Its fans are one part John Madden, one part Andrea Dworkin. And, naturally, two parts Dunkin Doughnuts.

Indeed, it seems the main reason women’s basketball exists is to allow parents of alarmingly mannish young women to feel less self-conscious about their less-than-feminine proclivities.

And for lesbians, of course.

But let us, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” not forget what really upsets us about women’s basketball: The sport itself. Although many sports offer an opportunity for females to highlight their grace, power, and finesse, women’s basketball merely allows women to demonstrate their complete inability to take a jump shot. No matter how high up on the totem pole of women’s basketball you ascend, you always seem as if you’ve laid more bricks than a professional house builder.

In addition, women can’t dunk. This doesn’t make them distinctly inferior to men, of course: Some of the greatest men in human history—Winston Churchill, for example—were famous for their inability to dunk.

And this reminds us of another thing: Our dislike of women’s basketball hasn’t anything to do with misogyny. After all, we also hate women’s soccer.

Posted at January 28, 2005 12:01 AM | TrackBack