For those of you who don’t speak Spanish, “Tu Ere Maricon” translates to “You are a faggot.” Toronto Blue Jays player Yunel Escobar made a grave error in judgement by writing this anti-gay slur on his face during a game this weekend. Escobar defended his homophobic face painting at a press conference saying: “I don’t have anything against homosexuals. I have friends that are gay … It’s just something that’s been said amongst the Latinos. It’s not something that’s meant to be offensive.” Keep reading »
Some days, you’re like “I really can’t deal with working out, I’m so tired.” And then you read about kids like Brazilian boy Gabriel Muniz, who was born without feet and still manages to play soccer, and then you feel absolutely mortified about your own laziness. [YouTube]
Breaking news! The He-Man Woman Hater’s Club has finally realized girls do not have cooties.
Okay, I am being glib. But it’s friggin’ 2012, Augusta National Golf Club — it took you long enough to admit your first-ever female members, i.e. stop discriminating against over 50 perent of the population. Women have always been allowed to play golf at Augusta as guests but it took the formerly mens-only club over 80 years to finally issue their iconic green jackets to two women: former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and South Carolina businesswoman Darla Moore. ”It will be a proud moment when we present Condoleezza and Darla their green jackets when the club opens this fall. This is a significant and positive time in our club’s history and, on behalf of our membership, I wanted to take this opportunity to welcome them and all of our new members into the Augusta National family,” said new chairman Billy Payne in a statement. Women’s rights activists have been putting firm pressure on Augusta since 2002, especially since it got rather embarrassing that the club wouldn’t even admit a female CEO whose company was a corporate sponsor of the Masters, a golf tournament being held at the club.
Welcome to the 21st century! (Well … sort of.) [Wall Street Journal]
Two women made history at the 2012 Olympics for being the first-ever female Saudi Arabians to compete in the Games.
But one of those young women, Wojdan Shakerkai, who competed in judo (and lost), has paid dearly for being a trailblazer: the 16-year-old girl has been lambasted as a “prostitute” by misogynists back home. Keep reading »
“Broad-shouldered, flat-chested women with small hips; [they are] totally indistinguishable from men. Their breasts – the symbol of womanhood, motherhood – flattened into stubs as they were seen as mere hindrances to speed. I am not even talking about female javelin throwers, shot-put athletes, weightlifters, wrestlers and boxers. Their appearance is just pathetic.”
You know how sometimes crusty old dudes say laughably sexist things? Like, things you can’t even waste the energy getting offended about because they’re so preposterous? Meet Turkish columnist Yuksel Aytut, who wrote a column called “Womanhood Is Dying At The Olympics.” Yes, seriously. Womanhood is dying. All those female athletes are running, swimming and kicking soccer balls when they should be back at home rubbing their husband’s feet. Such a shame!
Oof. Obviously this man has not clicked through a slideshow of women’s beach volleyball butts. [Wonkette; Daily Mail UK]
Today, The Washington Post ran a column praising 17-year-old Olympic gold medalist Missy Franklin as a tenacious athlete. In fact, you could describe columinist Sally Jenkins’ piece as gushing. So it’s unfortunate in an otherwise awe-filled piece that Jenkins’ made a poor choice of words (emphasis mine):
This was her first Olympic gold medal attempt in a grueling program of seven planned events — and on top of that, she had had to swim a semifinal heat in the 200 freestyle less than 15 minutes earlier. But with about 25 meters to go in the backstroke, a mean girl took possession of her.
Whoa, hold up. Why does winning have anything to do with being a “mean girl”? Keep reading »
Look, I’m a little intimidated about heading to the Olympics next week to hang out with a bunch of people who are Really Good At Sports. I’m not good at sports and typically only play them when I’ve been unassumingly tricked into them by a friend who says that it’s faster to ride bikes someplace than to drive a car. And yes, I treat my body like a decommissioned Orange Julius machine.
But that doesn’t mean that me and the rest of the mostly-sedentary Frisky staff aren’t gold medalists at other things in life. That’s why I asked everybody to tell me what they’d likely win a gold medal in. After all, if competitive race walking is an actual Olympic sport, can competitive closet organizing — in which my Virgo soul would easily get the gold — be far behind?
Tell us: What would you win a gold medal for? And if you need me, I’ll be polishing my Olympic gold medals for Eating All The Tacos and Being Able To Discern What Song Sampled What Other Song.
Keep reading »