The Naked Men Question

Why do I get the feeling that if I jumped in front of a speeding train to rescue a group of orphans, at the press conference awarding me my medal for bravery, someone would ask me how it felt spending my career around naked men in lockerrooms?

Everyone wants to know about the naked men.

For a while, I thought maybe it had finally become a non-issue. I would speak to school groups and the kids had moved onto more mature topics like, “How much money do you make?”

I swear, a kid asked me that once. I glanced over at the teacher, waiting for, “Tommy, that’s not an appropriate question for our guest,” but she was leaning forward, waiting for my answer.

I attempted to steer the kid away from the topic with a gentle, “Oh, I make enough, Tommy. Now buzz off,” but he was persistent.

His little hand shot up again and this time he asked, “What kind of car do you drive?”

It almost made me yearn for the naked men questions again. But alas, they had not gone away as I have discovered over the past few days in interviews promoting my biography of Lou Piniella.

We talk about Lou. Maybe we talk about the state of journalism. And then, boom, there it is, always asked as if we don’t have a female Speaker of the House, Secretary of State and something called bath towels.

I won’t pretend it did not used to be a concern 25 years ago, when I was first starting out in the business. Primarily, I wondered how I would feel when I was in my 40s, traipsing around lockerrooms with men who could, theoretically, be my sons.

But then I figured no way would I still be in the business that old anyway.  Yes, I was apparently a smart ass.

And now, here I am, in my 40s, and it looks as if I will be back in lockerrooms one day soon. Funny thing is, it has never been much of an issue for me or any other woman I’ve ever known in this business. I always did my job, held my notebook at strategic angles when necessary, and got the heck out as soon as humanly possible.

Turns out, I don’t care if the men are 20, 25 or 30. It is still an unpleasant place to be, always was and is the same for every male reporter or cameraman in there unless there is something seriously wrong with them.  To imply that it is only uncomfortable for women is to believe that it is natural for a roomful of grown-ups to do their jobs with only half of the people wearing clothes.

Occasionally and just the other day, someone will think they’re brilliant when they come up with the argument, “How would women athletes feel with male reporters in the lockerroom?” This is usually asked with utter seriousness, as if thousands of male reporters are storming women’s sporting events.

I’m sure there is the exception or two, but generally speaking, a female athlete will go anywhere she is asked to be interviewed, in any state of sweatiness and in any scenario, including having just lost a major championship because of her blunder. She will do this because women, almost without exception, understand that to be a professional athlete in this country is to also be a p.r. person, a marketing executive and a ticket agent, if necessary.

That said, I have noticed in covering the WNBA that the younger women athletes have become just as capable of being moody, surly and generally unquotable as their male counterparts, which is certainly encouraging for the women’s movement.

But it has nothing to do with where they are standing at the moment and whether they are dressed or not.

Here’s the other thing. Professional athletes – even the big-bellied offensive linemen — don’t much care who sees them naked. They really don’t. You see this same phenomenon in your typical public pool lockerroom, where there are always those people who prance around way too long without their clothes on (I assume this happens in men’s public lockerrooms but I can’t say for sure as I do not want to be arrested.)

If you’ve ever noticed – again, at least in the women’s lockerrooms – the naked people generally fall into two categories: the really great-looking, middle-aged women, usually with some form of surgical enhancement, or the really old women who just don’t give a damn whom they’re grossing out.

Same with athletes, minus the surgical enhancement  (but occasionally chemical help). And substitute the really old people with coaches (who occupy the section of the lockerroom I do everything in my power to avoid).

Most of this I can’t share in my radio interviews unless I want the FCC involved.

 But I’m thinking about it.