Okay Photo (Jaz Blom, Michael Rees-Lightfoot)
Sport and art are separate identities.
They are positioned as opposing, antithetical. But the two often interact with, and inform, the other. Both are vehicles: for growth, for expression, for change; for us to understand the world and share meaning. They cultivate connections. They forge empathy.
thist seeks to reconcile both.
The tiniest scrape exposes the fragility of it all: any of my ‘achievements’ are so complex they are sullied — each ‘success’ might be more accurately defined as a composite of failures.
Sport has given me a lot of things: diverse skills, support structures, a wider understanding of myself. It has not rid me of the self-consciousness attached to existing as a girl, then a woman.
What would you rather watch with your family: sex scenes or violence?
For many players, the state league season is imbued with a sense of hope. It is an audition for the national league. But there is no point in auditioning if there are no available positions.
Is there a viable way for an athlete whose family is not in a position to afford the perpetual costs of high performance programs on top of their regular club fees to make the national league?
A man called me a skeezer on The Pick and Roll’s republishing of The Fallacy. I did not know what this word meant. I suspected by his tone, though, it was most likely unflattering, and that was correct.
My brother was driving home late from work last week when he saw a woman on the side of the road being chased by a man. They were both in their early fifties. She was screaming for help. Nobody stopped to help her.
I use the word failure to describe myself sometimes and friends flinch in condemnation and pat me on the shoulder. But failure is not an ugly word.
The national league is not built on the backs of its marquee players. It is built on the backs of the players at the bottom of the list. The league does not survive without them.
As a child, I was warned tacitly about the pandemic: of dangerous, contagious lesbianism. I rolled my eyes and dismissed it. I was heterosexual but cool.
‘This is a bigger issue than one individual. It is state-wide. It is national. Abuse and toxic environments are a massive threat to women and girls sport. It is the reason so many children quit.’
It was almost exactly two years ago: November in 2021. The Herald Sun published an article about the upcoming professional sport returning to Melbourne, stating that ‘the Big Bash League, AFLW and National Basketball League start their seasons over summer.’ I was filled with intense despair as I read it, and then anger. I decided to write them an open letter.
‘I am in a world of women and they are everything. That is why I carry the labeller with me, so I can allocate each woman to their rightful place.’
I think I always knew I just needed to be seen. I believed in myself — not in a cocky way, but I knew I had done what I needed to do to get the opportunity and all I needed was that first chance.