In the last dozen or so years of the women’s sports revolution, you have seen the occasional adoption of characteristics of men’s professional athletics.
Last night, however, was something different.
When the Detroit Pistons and Los Angeles Sparks got involved in a melee at the end of their game, it was the manifestation of the characteristics of their coaches. But it was also perhaps one of the first signs that more and more games in the WNBA and in women’s pro sports, are being seen as competitive.
Let me explain. When the WNBA, WUSA, and National Pro Fastpitch were formed in the late 1990s on the backs of Olympic, World Cup, or world championship teams, not many fans of the Hamms and Lobos and Richardsons understood that their heroines would be competing against each other on a regular basis. This put people whose utter fascination with the national team prevented them from seeing, say, Mia Hamm and Brandi Chastain as competitors rather than teammates.
In other words, the average fan who came to a WUSA or WNBA or WPF match didn’t actually root for the club — they came to see one or two players, often on opposite teams. The effect was, when a good play was made, the fans would say, “Oh, isn’t that nice?” instead of giving a throaty cheer to encourage their team.
In addition, potential paying customers had to wonder how competitive the women’s pro sports leagues would be. You would think that, in a league in which superstar players are seeded amongst the teams, the teams are likely to be relatively even. This led to great competitiveness in the WUSA from 2001 to 2003.
On the other hand, I wonder if the Houston Comets’ dominance in the early days of the WNBA created a kind of cynicism that the league’s front office wanted Houston or New York or Los Angeles to win since the three players on most WNBA publicity gear from the early days were Sheryl Swoopes and Cynthia Cooper of Houston, Rebecca Lobo of New York, and Lisa Leslie from Los Angeles.
Now, I’ve seen plenty of competitive juices flowing from watching field hockey and lacrosse for a long time. And from my seat watching a couple of dozen Washington Freedom matches, I can tell you that there was a fierce competitiveness and rivalry brewing not only between teams, but also between and within two strata of players in the WUSA.
Before the league began, the WUSA designated anyone playing for the United States in the 1999 World Cup finals as a “League Founding Player.” This went from the front line all the way to the backup goalkeepers. As a result, you saw some internecine rivalries even within teams when LFPs either got injuried, slipped in their quality of play, or, in the case of Michelle Akers, never even played a game.
The two-tiered system, I think, was the worst possible thing for the WUSA. The U.S. national team, although revered, also had a handful of weak links. Other players who didn’t make the ‘99 roster had much stronger overall careers in the WUSA than some of the LFPs.
That being said, the league had some of the finest competition in the women’s sports revolution during the league’s final year, 2003. In that Founders’ Cup final between Washington and Atlanta, you had players fighting for every ball, tackle, and chance. And although the gorgeous Abby Wambach header is the lasting memory, you must remember that, two minutes earlier, Atlanta had a player sent off for a foul tackle.
Now, in National Pro Fastpitch, the games are indeed competitive — if you can find them. Teams have jumped around from the original Southeastern locations. Even today’s teams are hard to locate. The Washington, D.C. team plays its games on a high school field in Chantilly, Va. The Philadelphia team plays its games in a public park an hour north, in Allentown.
But part of the competitiveness comes from the fact that many of today’s softball superstars train together full-time for the national team and never set foot in an NPF stadium except for barnstorming matches. In other words, this arrangement robs people of the chance to see a Crystal Bustos bomb blast or Cat Osterman’s near-perfect windmill pitching style.
The WNBA, however, has integrated its star players into the league. It has matured enough so that the franchises have developed distinct personalities — not only from the collection of players, but from the coaches.
Consider, for example, the coaches for the Detroit Shock — Bill Laimbeer and Rick Mahorn. Consider also the head coach for Los Angeles, Michael Cooper. Neither of these three NBA veterans backed down from anyone or anything as players, and certainly their players didn’t back down from last night’s altercation.
Commentators around the blogosphere and in the newspapers may talk about the shame of it all, or that it was a publicity lever.
The way I see it, the WNBA — and women’s sports in general — have now begun to hit a competitiveness apex at which players are willing now to do anything in order to win. To me, that’s progress.