Imagine it’s January. The Superbowl has just come to a spectacular conclusion. If it makes it any easier, let’s say that the Steelers have just edged the Eagles in a hard fought squeaker of a game. (Feel free to have the Eagles win, if you prefer. After all, it’s your imagination.)

Ben Roethlisberger hoists the Vince Lombardi Trophy in a downpour of confetti. A microphone is thrust into his face. He takes the microphone, his massive biceps quivering with emotion. He says:

“I’d like to congratulate Donovan Mcnabb, who played an unbelievable game. Donovan has had a great season. We’ve played each other a lot over the years. He’s a fantastic competitor. Our games are always close. Honestly, today’s game could have gone either way. He’s a terrific quarterback. His whole team is incredible. I know he has an amazing future ahead of him.”

The crowd roars its approval. A close-up of a beaming Mcnabb appears on the Jumbotron. He’s disappointed about the loss, but thrilled to have competed in the Superbowl.

Ben goes on:

“You know, I took two seasons off when my son was born. I was recovering from some injuries, and I was kind of burned out, and being a dad was so great. I seriously considered just quitting football.”

The crowd boos. Ben accepts the booing with a good-natured nod.

“I know, I know. Stupid, right? But being a dad took a lot of energy. In fact, my special little guy is out there tonight, the rascal. We really had to work on him to get him down for his nap this afternoon. But I wanted him to be awake to see what his dad does for a living.”

A sleepy boy, his mouth full of a Steelers-brand pacifier, points at his image up on the Jumbotron. The crowd does a “We’re not worthy!” wave as a salute.

“He’s such a great little guy,” Ben says. “Winning the Superbowl is awesome, but being a father is the greatest feeling in the world. I just can’t wait to spend next the few weeks with my son, getting back into our routine at home again.”

The crowd erupts with joy. Ben’s a great football player, sure, but what an unbelievable father!

Okay, that’s enough imagining for the moment.

This scenario is wrong in every particular. We all know what really happens at the end of a Superbowl. The losing players vanish into obscurity after a few poignant minutes, during which they’re expected to showcase the many faces of misery and disbelief.

The winning team explodes in an orgy of self-congratulation, which heralds other orgies, metaphorical and literal, that are sure to follow.

The quarterback thanks God for blessing him with victory, thanks his offensive line for protecting him, thanks his coach for believing in him and giving him a chance to show how awesome he is compared to his worthy but slightly less talented backup. Then the microphone is wisely wrested from his hand before he has a chance to thank the cheerleaders and possibly one or several babymommas.

But let’s cut to the very real—and not imagined—award ceremony at the recent U.S. Open tennis tournament, where Kim Clijsters defeated Caroline Wozniacki. The crowd went crazy, having just witnessed one of the great comebacks from retirement in sports history.

Clijsters, who won the U.S. Open in 2005, but was unable to defend her title because of a wrist injury, retired from the game to start a family. She had a daughter, and then, after a year and a half, decided to give tennis another try. The 2009 U.S. Open was only her third tournament since her return. She had to beg for a wildcard berth, since she hadn’t played enough matches to be ranked.

At the award ceremony, Clijsters took the microphone and, in a display of the kind of sportsmanship that makes tennis such a pleasure to watch, talked up her opponent and congratulated her for an excellent tournament. Then she went on to talk mainly about being a mom. Granted, she was being pushed to focus on her mommydom, since her return from retirement was the feel-good story of the tournament. But she really did seem more concerned with her daughter’s nap schedule than with, say, the 1.6 million dollar check she got for winning.

I love good sportsmanship. The lying and drug-testing in baseball turns me off, as does the showboating and gratuitous violence in football. I started writing this column thinking that my subject was going to be poor sportsmanship and, more broadly, the general lack of civility in public life. Serena Williams’s tirade against the line judge in the semi-finals of the U.S. Open seemed to have a fine corollary in Congressman Joe Wilson’s rude outburst during the President’s recent Health Care speech.

But instead I find myself thinking about the different expectations we have of public men and women. We love Kim Clijsters for showing the world that a ferocious competitor can also be a doting mother, that the pursuit of excellence doesn’t have to come at the expense of family life.

Still, it’s hard to imagine Big Ben using his moment of Superbowl glory to talk about his kid’s sleep schedule.

The question is, when will men catch up?

 

This column was published in the Perry Co Times on 24 September 2009

For more information, please contact Mr. Olshan at writing@matthewolshan.com