Julie Stewart-Binks taped a rebuttal to her Rob Gronkowski lap dance segment on Fox Sports 1. And it’s just as cringe-worthy as the initial instance.

Here’s a link to the clip: https://twitter.com/FS1/status/695703403230416896

Her explanation is that what she did was “a sketch.”

“The people that have come at me hardest are women,” she said.

Well, yeah, because she basically lampooned what we do … then tried to blame us.

“Thanks for setting us back 45 years,” … said no female sports reporter, ever.

 

So, by now, we’ve all seen Rob Gronkowski’s lap dance from last night’s Fox Sports 1 visit.

To post video of this, I believe, would make me complicit. But the question Julie Stewart-Binks posed to Gronkowski was this: “If you had a chance to make some more money using, maybe, me …” she said. “Wanna maybe show us a little Magic Mike?”

It’s not cute and it’s not funny.

Unoffically, of a sample of 100 women in sports journalism, 99 wouldn’t ask that question. One did and degraded the other 99.

Has a creepy precendent been set? Do we now have to ask interview subjects for lap dances? Let’s hope athletes are smarter than that. I know women are smarter than that. But given Stewart-Binks’ coy questioning and the display that followed, let’s clear this up right now:

There needs to be a rational understanding in the working world that women are not objects, and they cannot make themselves into that.

One of the tangents I saw last night was the straw-man argument that, “If Cam Newton did this …”

Right now, Cam Newton has a few bigger things on his mind, and I don’t know if A) he’d go on a talk show during the Super Bowl and B) if he’d take the chance to grind on a female reporter. Professionalism, you know?

Not to give Gronkowski a pass, but consider the unprofessionalism of last night’s exchange on both sides. Let’s talk about sports, not sex. Let’s discuss the topic at hand, not your past as an amateur Magic Mike.

This is not how reporters – male or female – develop their sources. This is not how we get the people we cover to open their minds to us, whether they’re a politician, a community leader, an athlete or a high school principal.

It’s not professional, or appropriate. It’s degrading and demeaning.

And we cannot give leeway to anyone who think it’s okay to somehow sexualize a professional exchange. Its not indicative of female journalists, or journalists, period.

And it’s not how you get a job.

***

On a related note, I get a kick out of this video – some of the questions/comments questions posed to female athletes and the responses that male athletes would give. Doesn’t objectification sound ridiculous?

via Covertheathlete.com:

 

I  got a kick out of Kevin Durant’s latest soundbite:

“Man, the [media and experts are] always trying to nitpick us,” Kevin Durant told ESPN.com. “I mean, they don’t like us. They don’t like how Russell [Westbrook] talks to the media, they don’t like how I talk to the media. So obviously, yeah, they’re not going to give us the benefit of the doubt.”

I’ve been a sports reporter for 18 years, and I have to say there’s only one person I covered whom I genuinely disliked. Whose name probably wouldn’t register for anybody except a diehard fan of a particular sport at a particular level in a particular part of the country. He basically told me I was stupid, that I didn’t give his sport enough credit, that I would be better off covering girls volleyball or figure skating or fishing, and that I was wrong when I didn’t pick his star player to be our publication’s player of the year.

And each time I listened to him rant, I’d think, “I know I’m not stupid. I’ve covered girls volleyball, figure skating, fishing, lacrosse, hockey, football … and trust me, that kid deserved to be player of the year, much more than yours did.”

Only once did I lash out at him, because I had to stand my ground against his abuse. And after a few days, I apologized to him.

And while I was never for certain if his rants were just a product of misogyny, or of him genuinely disliking me, the fact that he gave me no respect – and respect should be inherent at any level, in any dealing, in any profession – made me dislike him.

But that’s enough wasting time and energy on such a small person. Again, I can’t really think of anybody I’ve covered where I’ve gone into an interview and thought, “Ugh, I can’t stand this person.” There have been athletes and coaches with abrasive personalities, but one of the things I’ve learned in being a journalist – and an observer, to a certain extent – is that you sort of manipulate your approach to work with someone else. You find common ground with them. Or you phrase questions a certain way. Or you even say, “well, I have to ask this, and I apologize if it’s a bit uncomfortable” (but only in specific instances).

There was a hockey player I never covered, but whose career I followed, and one thing I’d been told by several people was how bad it was to deal with this guy, because he didn’t like talking to the media. Later on, after he retired, I read about him and realized that this guy played through so much pain (multiple concussions, groin tear, broken wrist, ripped up knee, chronic back problems), as well as the perception that he was a bust after being a first-round draft pick who never lived up to his potential, and was probably miserable through most of his career. And maybe he felt as if he was only scrutinized. And I get how that would make someone unhappy. And here’s another truth: it’s hard for people who are constantly scrutinized to be honest. Because then, they are perceived as vulnerable.

But for the most part, I’ve found a lot of personalities in sports to be, well, entertaining. It’s unique to see what makes people tick, or how they respond to situations, or if they have a catchphrase they use – or even how often they use what their coaches tell them (Michigan football, under Brady Hoke: “Fundamentals and technique”; Michigan football, under Jim Harbaugh: “Enthusiasm unknown to mankind”).

So, no, it’s not that we don’t like you, Kevin Durant. We don’t even know you. But that’s another post for another day.

 

As I watched the movie “Aloha” last night, I could only think one thing: This would make a much better book than a movie.

In a nutshell (thank you, Google):

While on assignment in Oahu, Hawaii, military contractor Brian Gilcrest (Bradley Cooper) reconnects with his old flame Tracy Woodside (Rachel McAdams), now married to an Air Force recruit (John Krasinski). He also spends time with Allison Ng (Emma Stone), a hard-nosed fighter pilot who watches every move that he makes. As they travel throughout the lush terrain, Brian finds himself falling for his feisty guide, while his conversations with Tracy may provide a shocking revelation from their past.

The Cameron Crowe movie got a really bad rap, in part because of the issue of casting Emma Stone as Allison Ng – a white woman playing a woman of Hawaiian and Chinese descent.

The movie was also largely panned by critics. Variety called it Cameron Crowe’s “worst movie yet.” The New York Times said it was a “disappointment,” but “a loose, leisurely hangout movie, funny and sprawling and full of eccentric, interesting folks.”

However, the controversy surrounding the movie, which was largely panned by critics, made me curious. I still wanted to see it. As I watched the movie, all I thought was, “this would make such a good book!” There were so many layers to the story:

• relationships between men and women, one of my favorite subjects in fiction
• space exploration – especially because it’s becoming privatized
• Allison Ng, herself, is a captivating character – a captain in the Air Force who flies jets and who understands the depth of the Hawaiian culture
• making choices not just to appease others, but to remain true to yourself
• How relationships and connections endure – in ways you really have no idea

The soundtrack, btw, is fantastic.

But can someone make this into a book, pronto?

Sunday is the 23rd anniversary of one of the saddest and funniest memories I have from high school.

The phone rang as we were eating lunch in the house I grew up in. Bacon, eggs and toast. I was still in my pajamas, still relishing the idea of a lazy Sunday afternoon in my room, watching hockey or reading.

Our family’s rule was that nobody was to answer the phone while we were at the table during a meal, but I leaped to pick up the receiver. For some reason, I knew this noon-hour phone call wasn’t going to be a good one.

“Rachel,” a desperate, sad voice said on the other line. “Rachel. I got into an accident.”

“Oh, no.” I said. “Brian. Brian.”

My family looked at me from around the table. My father shook his head. My brother smirked and chuckled. My mother motioned for me to get off the phone. I don’t know what the look on my face said, but it must not have been good.

A mutual friend of ours – who, it ends up, was an awful driver, as this was the second of three crashes he was involved in – rear-ended the back of Brian’s new car, crumpling it. Brian and I went over to the house where the car was stopped, and it was just a mess. Even messier was the battle between the parents, who tried to pass blame from one person to another.

I had just met the boy of my dreams, a hockey player from St. Mary’s who had nothing to do with our group. Brian and I had cruised around in his Acura the previous morning, presumably to show off to Kristina, the girl he was in love with. I had gone out the night before, cruising around Annapolis with two of my friends.

Life was pretty fantastic for a 16-year-old. Until someone crashed into the back of my friend’s car.

And when I saw that Brian’s birthday was coming up this weekend, I couldn’t help but to burst into laughter and think of that teenage disaster. I would think that all of us have become better drivers since then.

 

 

Norwood Teague should never be allowed to work in college athletics again. Or in higher education.

It doesn’t matter if it’s at another Big Ten Conference school, another Power Five school, a mid-major or at your daughter’s junior high school. Norwood Teague betrayed the trust and respect of his school, his colleagues, his family and the people who know him. And he gave us more justification as to why we shouldn’t place much faith in our own leaders.

The gravity of what Norwood Teague did – sexually harass female employees as the athletic director at the University of Minnesota, and resign once his behavior came to light – was apparent before. It suddenly carried an even greater weight when Amelia Rayno, a Minnesota basketball beat reporter at the Minneapolis Star Tribune, went public Sunday night with a detailed account regarding her interactions with Teague over the course of nearly a year.

Those interactions were unprofessional, unsavory, hypersexualized and an example of a man who had no control of himself – and who needs some serious professional help before he can even consider resuming his career in college athletics.

This is not how a top administrator at a major university should represent himself. Or should interact with women. Instead of treating Rayno with the professional respect she deserves, he followed his own impulses and cast fear on her job. And probably, to a certain degree, on her life. And I guarantee you that she is not the only one this has happened to, and that Norwood Teague isn’t the only one who has crossed the line into dangerous territory.

Some disclosure: I know Amelia, and I have worked in press boxes and on media row with her. She is a hard-working, respected reporter who is passionate about her job and about her beat. As we all should be in this business.

Maybe I am writing this simply because I am the token female in my sports department, but in 18 years of working in sports journalism, I am familiar with a hard truth about the jock culture. The hard truth that people don’t want to accept about the jock culture is that women are always valued more as one-dimensional currency and less as multi-faceted brokers.

And I know this: I feel a strong empathy with anyone who has to go through this, regardless of what they do for a living. And I know a universal truth, not just in sports or in journalism: this happens a lot more than we know.

But we can do something about it.

If this happens to you, go to your bosses. Go to a trusted advisor. If you’re a sports reporter, reach out to the Association for Women in Sports Media. As a member of AWSM’s board, I ask anyone in our industry – man or woman – that if you encounter this same problem, please reach out to us. Ask us for guidance. Utilize us as a resource. This is one of the many reasons why we’re here. Don’t sit in silence and simply hope the repulsive behavior stops. You’re probably not the only one going through this.

We have the right to set boundaries for ourselves. To know and exercise consent. To emphasize personal responsibility. Not just for ourselves but for the people whom we hold accountable as fellow human beings. And no one has the right to abuse their own power, or the liberties that they believe we give them because of that power.

Norwood Teague took liberties. Too many of them. Against his employees and the people who hold him accountable. Power and prestige are simply no justification for repulsive behavior. And no amount of power or prestige gives anyone the right to behave like a deviant – or to continue to support someone who does.