My Sports Lit students were discussing Garrison Keillor's short story "Where Did We Go Wrong," which features the (fictional) first female professional baseball player in the U.S., who plays baseball like one of the guys but also chews, spits, cusses, and makes hand gestures like one of the guys, which creates problems for fans who want their female athletes to remain "ladylike" (whatever that means), and my students pointed out that it's kind of like Lingerie Football.
Now I've never heard of Lingerie Football (not that I'm complaining!) but apparently it's a real thing that's been around for a while. I mentioned it to my husband, whose first concern was the danger of rug-burn if they're playing on artificial turf. I worry more about the mistreatment of all those lacy little underthings. Who does the delicate hand-washing? What's the best way to get grass stains out of silk? They must order Woolite by the barrel!
I'd like to say that this is The End of the World as We Know It, but we who live in a cave in Appalachia don't know it very well at all. We've only recently learned that people who ask "What does the fox say?" aren't interested in the fox kits that romped along our cliff, and we still think of Venice when we see the word "doge," so how are we supposed to know about Lingerie Football?
Maybe this is one of those cases when ignorance really is bliss.
If I ignore it, will it go away?
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