Women in Sports

It’s 2021 and we are still doing this. We are still in a blind spot when it comes to so many aspects of women in sports. One of the biggest blind spots is how women are treated in the workplace by our colleagues, executives, fans, Twitter trolls — you get the point.

I spent the first 10 years of my carer in the sports industry. And I loved it. Sports have been such a huge part of my life and who I am, it was my dream to build a life in that world. I never thought I’d leave.

It also gave me some of my darkest days, most unhealthy lifestyle, and was the time I doubted myself the most. The worst job I ever had was in professional sports. It left me broken, physically ill, and destroyed my confidence.

I left sports in large part because the lifestyle was not sustainable for me. My passion for sports can exist outside of working in the industry. I am happier, healthier, better treated, make more money, and all around thriving in the tech industry and I am so grateful I was able to make that pivot.

What really gets me riled up every time a new asshole is exposed for sending lewd texts or harassing women in the work place is how shocked everyone acts. Even in the sports industry itself. Everyone is appalled. Teams vow this isn’t who they are. Men are put on leave, issue an apology written by a PR company. Organizations vow to commit to change. They hire a token female.

It’s bullshit. All of it.

Every woman in sports has a story. Probably many.

I knew going into the industry I’d be sexually harassed at some point. And I was. Many times. I brushed it off. I brushed it off for almost two years until I broke down and spoke up. I was fired the next day for not “fitting the values of the organization.”

I knew I’d have to work harder, wear higher heels, and learn to laugh at the crude humor. And I did. Over and over again I did.

I was also in a generally toxic situation working for a team that to this day is a fucking mess. The bullying and generalized mind games were actually worse than any sexual harassment I faced. And I realize how fucked up that is to say. To rank my experience by which type of harassment I’d face on the daily.

Think of the most stereotypical boys club and multiply that disgusting behavior by 100 and you’ve got what I went to the office to experience each day.

When I worked in college sports, it was much of the same. I had a boss physically prevent me from leaving the room. I had another charged with a federal crime that I legally can’t speak about. I was told to wear a low cut top to seal a deal.

These are all my experiences. And they’re vast. They’re my unique story as a woman in sports.

But they are far from the only story. And probably not even that shocking to other women in the industry.

Even within the ecosystems I worked, I know other women who experienced their own version of the ugly side of being a woman in sports. Most have left the industry entirely.

I didn’t speak a lot about the specifics of what I dealt with at the team I worked for. I spoke about surface level toxicity but nobody knows about a lot of the very real and deep issues I have as a result of that experience.

I’m loud. I speak up. I cause trouble. I am the person who goes to HR or to leadership when I see injustice. I will never not try to right a wrong. I will always be that person.

Because of that, I think it’s easy to ignore what I have to say about these things. You’ve heard it before. How could this happen to someone again? Is she just making trouble? She’s just being difficult. She’s so dramatic.

I don’t tell the full story because I know what’s it like to not be believed. To be told you’re overreacting. So I sucked it up and I dealt with it.

I think about that a lot when it comes to women in sports. When I see a woman who exposes something a man has done, I think about how much it took to get her to that point. I know that wasn’t the first incident. I wonder how scared she is. I fear for the repercussions. I worry about her being let go and losing one more woman in a male dominated industry. My heart breaks because I wonder if she will ever speak up again.

I think about the other women who feel strong enough to speak up because she tells her story. I worry about the support systems they have in place to help them through this. I fear for the reactions of her colleagues. I worry about how she’s running through every mistake she made in her mind, because surely it will be used against her. I pray that she’s strong enough to deal with what comes after.

Women are the strongest people on the planet. Women in sports have to show up and coat themselves in extreme strength every single day. And I hate that for us. I hate that we have to be strong.

We first have to fight to get into this world. Then we have to fight to be everything in that world. Pretty, smart, funny, one of the boys. And then we have to resist aging. We have to know ten times what a man does about the game. And we have to do it in heels, flawless makeup and perfectly coifed hair. We have to be breezy but serious but light and smiling. When the degrading comments happen, the innapropriate jokes tossed around, the accidental touching — we have to ignore all that and laugh with the men. We can’t make mistakes. We can’t show up less than 110%. There are no off days for women in sports. Not at the office, not in our personal lives, you are always on. Every second of our lives are fair game.

For me, the worst part was showing up everyday to a place I knew would not make me feel good. Where I was demeaned, belittled, degraded — sat in the room for the lewd jokes, the offhand comments and nobody stood up for me. Nobody said this is wrong we have to do better. Nobody spoke up for me.

Just because you don’t partake in the problem, it doesn’t make you innocent. It doesn’t make you a good guy just because you refrane from contributing to the conversation. Men need to make space for women in sports. They need to hold themselves to a higher standard and they need to say to their peers “this is not ok.” Sitting by and watching it happen, knowing its wrong but letting it go, we see that. I can promise you, we never forget that.

I left my career in professional sports over 5 years ago and one man, one, has reached out to me to apologize and truly compassionately express sadness for the things he saw me go through. 10 years of working in sports and one man has had an ounce of guts to speak up. He did not partake in any wrongdoing, but he’s the one who came to me to say you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.

The reporters and the media who sit here and feed into this shocked narrative, you are part of the problem. And every time you push that storyline, the women you work with see it. They hear it and they are making note of where you stand.

Show up for women. Don’t applaud the first female coach, referee, VP and then turn around and be ignorant to the plight to get there. Don’t claim to support women in sports and then sit quietly while the innapropriate jokes and text messages fly around the room.

Women show up every single day and do the absolute most in the sports industry. In an industry that quite frankly doesn’t want us.

Show up for women. We damn sure show up for everyone else.

I Don't Work in Sports.

As you know because you diligently read my blog, I have a bit of an obsession with sports.  I grew up an athlete and dreamed of working in sports for my entire life.  And for 8 years of my career, I worked in sports.  

Now - I indirectly work in sports.  I do a lot of events that take place at sporting venues and with athletes, but I do not consider what I do working in sports.

And that's weird.  

Everyone looks at the sporting world with envy.  They see the glitz and glam world meant for consumers and they assume that's what working in that world is like.  They're not entirely wrong.  I got to do some really cool things because of my job in athletics.  I've been on the sidelines at incredible games.  Sat on the floor in $15,000 seats.  Worked with the commissioner of the NBA.  Flown private with the team.  Enjoyed $5,000 dinners.  And man, was it all everything you could ever dream of and more.  Some of my bucket list has been fulfilled purely because of my job.

But there's also a dark side to the industry.  I experienced the lowest of lows in my life because of how I was treated by individuals in that world.  I lost passion for the world that raised me.  And certainly my experience is not every experience.  I've got some friends and colleagues still in the business who have felt nothing but joy for working in sports.  For me, it was not worth enduring the misery.  So I left.  After a lot of thought, fear, and doubt, I got out.

So what's it like to leave the world of sports?  A lot of people who are contemplating leaving ask me, is it worth it?  Does it get better?  Do you miss it?  The answer is I miss it all the time.  And there are moments I wish I was still part of the nucleus of my passion.  However, I now get to enjoy sports as a fan.  I get to go to games and debate the good and bad - without a stake in the game.  I don't have any rules that define what I talk about, what I say, I'm just a bitter 49er fan like the rest of you.

I now work for a marketing agency.  I work on big brands.  I still engage with celebrities and athletes.  I still plan some one of a kind events.  I get to check off my bucket list.  I travel a lot.  

Not working in sports has taught me that it's eerily similar to working in sports.  Granted, I don't work in a formal environment.  I'm not ever going to be in corporate America.  At my agency I have a less strict dress code than I did in sports.  The hours are more flexible.  I still travel to a lot of the big sporting events and am sitting at the big games.

Maybe I'll go back to sports one day.  Maybe I'll break into writing.  Maybe I'll go into entertainment.  I don't know what my future holds because I've stopped holding myself to this strict plan.  I go where I'm happy, where I'm learning, and where I'm passionate about the job.  Focus less on what you think you should be doing, what you planned for your whole life, and start listening to what gets you up and excited in the morning.  

Who cares if you worked in your dream industry if what you do isn't your dream.  Listen less to those calling what you do glamorous and listen more to what you define as the dream job.

Business Games

I love sports.  Sports have been my business for the past 7 years and my passion for as long as I can remember.  I feel a sense of loyalty to the teams and players that I support - I am emotionally attached to the wins and losses as well as how we play the game.  Sports teach you how to be your best and they give fans a sense of ownership.  But at the end of the day - sports are a business. 

The NBA, NFL, MLB - they're the parent company to each team within their organization.  And each team is responsible for creating a successful product.  That product is winning games.  You win games - you sell seats.  When the seats are full, the media sells, concessions sell, gear sells, and so forth.  At the end of the day - winning is what matters.  When you're not winning, its a lot harder to fill seats, garner media interest, and ultimately turn a profit.

So what am I getting at?  I'm trying to show you super fans who yell and scream and curse your teams/players/owners for their lack of loyalty to you/your city that you can cause a ruckus all you want - loyalty in the sports business is to winning.  Nothing else.  I feel your pain.  I went into mourning when Brian Wilson went to the Dodgers.  I hate on the Niners to this day for letting Alex Smith go and going with Kap (although seriously they should listen to me about that after this season...) - but I also understand that what we fans feel - is not what these executives feel. 

Team owners/executives have numbers to produce.  They must produce wins and sell tickets and reach financial goals.  So while you and I are focusing on winning too - we also feel emotionally invested in players.  We love the guy in the community and the rookie who leaves it all on the court.  But to the team - these players are replaceable. They're part of the puzzle until they don't fit.  And then they're plucked off the bus and given a ticket elsewhere.  It's harsh.  It's cold.  It's business.

I've watched it happen.  I've seen the roll call on the bus for the guys who were on their way to a game in Chicago but are now being asked to clear out their lockers and move to a new city.  I've gotten the phone calls threating death to owners, cursing out salespeople, burning of the jerseys and posting it online.  Fans are loyal, emotional, and the lifeblood of the organization.  Certainly without fans - there's no team.  But I'll be really honest with you - if you think your opinions on player deals, playing time, or coaching choices matter - you should put your beer down and go home.  They need you to buy tickets but at the end of the day, with or without you the organization will go on.  Maybe to a new city, but it will go on.

I realize this post is probably a little depressing - but life is tough - I just want to keep it real with you.  But with all of that knowledge being dropped - I want you to know - I'm still just as crazy passionate as you are about my teams.  And even knowing all the behind the scenes of it - I'm still just as irrational as you are when my favorite player gets sent away.  Sure, sports are a business, but they're also my heart.

Ball is Life

I've spent the majority of my career in sports.  Granted, I'm only 31 so that's not necessarily saying I'm some 30 year veteran of the business - but I do have a strong idea of what this world is like.   Of course, every organization, every University, and every agency are very different.  I dare only speak to my personal experiences as I know they're vastly different from those of my peers.

Whenever I tell people I work in sports, there's this immediate "how cool" "what a dream" reaction.  It's often assumed that I make a lot of money, I'm at all the coolest events sitting courtside at every game.  People immediately ask which players I've dated and which ones I party with.  The world of sports is seen as a 24/7 party.  It's all glitz and glamour and the good life.

The truth?  It can be.  But it's not big salaries, I'm not sitting on the sidelines at every game, I certainly would never date an athlete I work with and I will leave a bar I see them walk into.  It's long hours, hands on labor, little appreciation, cutthroat often sexist environments, and it's one of the hardest industries to break into and excel in.  And yet, it's also exciting, and its challenging and it's a playground for creativity and passion.  I've cursed it, sworn I'd get out, and yet I still can't completely leave it.

To make it in this world you have to be willing to start at the bottom and I'm talking the very bottom.  You have to be willing to do manual labor, work 16-20 hours straight and do all of this for minimum wage or even school credit.  You have to work really hard, without complaint, and you have to be open to feedback.  Have patience.  Realize you aren't making six figures for a really long time, if ever.  And you're not in a world where someone is going to tell you how much you're appreciated.  It's a world where the staff is replaceable.  So you've got to think strategically.  You've got to constantly build relationships, learn from everyone you can, and trust very few. 

But as cut throat as this world is, I've met some of my best friends in this world.  I've grown personally and professionally in this world and I'm not sure I'd have done so had I not been in sports.  I've sat courtside and on the sidelines at some momentous games.  I've worked side by side with some of the greatest athletes and coaches in the game.  I've drank $1,500 wine and eaten a $10,000 dinner.  I've flown on the team plane.  I've gotten to pursue my dreams and been given incredible responsibility.  And that's why I can't give this world up. 

In my new role, I'm not 100%  centered on sports.  I'm sports and product marketing and music and everything in between.  And that's scary.  But it's also exciting.  It's a whole new ball game if you will - and I'm the rookie in this world.  But I think at the end of the day, that only makes me a stronger competitor when (or if) I choose to go back to sports full time.  It's an opportunity to have something I've only heard about: a work life balance (I'm unclear on the details of this).  And it's a position I'm a little uncomfortable going into, which makes it a position I should absolutely take. 

The world of sports is glamourous.  But it's also really ugly.  And really cut throat.  Half the time, I didn't know who we were playing or even the name of every player.  You're not a fan when you're in that world.  You're in a business.  And you're an employee in a world expected to increase profit for that business.  Certainly, be passionate, don't ever lose your love for the game, but be warned - it's like taking the mask of Mickey - you see the world in a whole new light.  And sometimes it's princess castles and light shows, and sometimes it's tantrums and back stabbing.  Quite frankly, you're either made for the sports world, or your not. 

Personally, I live for this life.  If I didn't, I wouldn't still be so scared to walk away.  We joke that ball is life in this world.  But I'm not sure its really a joke.