IT started as any other lunchtime at the basketball courts.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
But that day in 1998, everything changed.
"Not the GIRLS!" us boys wailed.
"We can't play with them - they're terrible at sport!"
"And they're annoying!"
"Why can't they play somewhere else? It'll be stupid if we mix the teams, and we'll probably smash them if it's boys versus girls."
"PLEEEEEEASE SIR! DON'T MAKE US DO IIIIIIT!"
It was a traumatic day for all concerned.
And just last week, I found myself in a similar situation.
My Sunday soccer team was short a couple of players going into the first game of the season, which, given our dubious fitness, was a daunting prospect. We scratched our heads on how to fill the gap.
Then, eureka!
"Hey, why not ask the women's team if any of their players would like an extra match?"
Incidentally, we won 3-1, and the two girls who filled in were easily among the best on the field.
It wasn't really surprising, given our newest recruits were among the more experienced and technically advanced players on their own team.
But after the match, my mind spun back to the schoolyard.
The thing is, while there are physical differences, the main reason we are hesitant to mix boys and girls on the sporting field is not a disparity in size, strength or speed.
It's the way we've been taught to think.
You might call it PC nonsense - that your average woman would get smashed if they decided to play with the boys.
Maybe. But I'd like to see your average man take on Ellyse Perry at cricket or soccer, Venus Williams at tennis, or Torah Bright in the half-pipe.
Somehow I doubt that he would get by on the power of his penis alone.
If I ever have a daughter, I'd want her to be able to play whatever sport she wants, against whomever she wants, and to be able take it as far as she wants.
But I'd hate to think she would not be given an opportunity because of fear of change, or because a man couldn't handle that a woman might have something to contribute.