If only women ran sports...

Three Saturdays ago, I attended a leading company’s annual prize awards function at the Country Club, and the general theme of the night was about “Woman Power” in the field of Insurance. And if Denyse Plummer is to be believed, then the power of women is growing quicker by the minute. With that in mind, I decided that it was time for Dancing Brave to be objective. After all Newsday has been in the forefront of promoting women’s issues in all spheres of their activities.

So today, if you have joined late (after a night out) this week’s column is being written by “Ms Dancing Brave,” in honour of all women (both known, unknown or soon to be known and those on their own). So all men, beware.  It is time that women are given more say in the sports that are considered to be the property of men. For instance, those men who play cards, drink rum and talk dirty should be banned from the Queen’s Park Cricket Club, and not us women. We need equality, not only in the workplace and therefore we need to just steamroll ourselves in to the pavilion one day and demand attention. If we don’t get it, then we will do an all day and night sit-down. You can be sure not many husbands will want to pass their wives to get into the club.

If we women ran cricket, then there would only be good-looking men in the game, and they would not be getting out so cheaply to weak shots. We would inspire our men to be big and strong, like players of the past — Phil Simmons and Wayne Daniel —  and our opponents would be scampering for their lives. Brian, we would have married you off to one of our kind and she would have put some real manners on you. And if that failed, we would sit him down and explain the ways of the world in womanland to him and a thing or two about life without excesses. That would have ensured his baby was named Khaylia or Vashti and not Sydney. If we women ran football, Trinidad and Tobago would have qualified for the World Cup, not once but twice already.  We would have kept our men folk at home and made sure they were happy and comfortable before the vital United States match.
Up to now, the United States would have remained our subjects in football, despite all the blazers their players were given free. We would have sent some of our special team to distract the Americans and by the time of match, they would have been bamboozled and confused.

If we women had a chance to have a major say in the region, then we would have made public the following in some of the other leading sports. For instance, we would have exposed as the newly appointed, lady Chief Executive Officer of the Trinidad and Tobago Cricket Board, a note from the West Indies Board to one of their sons in the United States. “I am writing slow because I know you can’t read fast. I hope the money from cricket is helping you to get better in that school, and you are not playing Lego still. Your 25th birthday is coming up shortly.” Or if Ms Dancing Brave was given her rightful place atop the Trinidad and Tobago Olympic Committee, then I would not have been afraid of guns and bullets from saying the truth about the NAAA. Instead I would have disclosed what I overheard one executive officer telling another at the Il Colesio — “I won’t be able to send you my new address in France from the last IAAF meeting, because the previous guy also from the NAAA took the house numbers when they moved (to Greece) so they won’t have to change their address. I am thinking about following his good example.”

As a beautifully seductive young lady (of course) Ms Dancing Brave would contest a seat on the upcoming Hockey Board executive and win, exposing her quality. Some hockey men tried to run alongside her, but she fought them off playfully and  they drowned. The men’s club in hockey at the time sponsored their cremation and they burned for three days. When eventually, though, I was made the first female manager of a domestic football club team, I would ensure that my guys were focussed. I would give them enough incentives both before, during (at half time) and after a match, so much so that they would want to excel and exceed all their limitations. I would remind them that no excuses such as — no bonuses because you went to a party, or no money in my envelopes to you, because they were already sealed — would be made. As a woman, I could probably take more chances than my better half (Mr Dancing Brave) and confess that there have been attempts to get at me, with offers of favours if I report things in their favour.

Those who attempted this were very wrong and deserve to have a cricket bat on their heads and a note attached to them in the secondary schools canteen as students pass them by — Here stands your teacher, he does not live at the same place anymore, because he read that most accidents happen within 20 miles from his home, so he moved. We all hoped he will move school shortly (not shorty) as well, very soon. As a referee in one of the World Cup matches, you can be sure that I would not pussyfoot around with the players who like to use their hands for the wrong reasons. Instead I would penalise them severely, no matter if they scored 14 or 15 goals in England or were worth $20 or $30 million.

As the best journalist in Trinidad and Tobago, both among males and females, I would put in the print, the answer to how our guys adapt to weather conditions in Europe and the collective response from the English based and Scottish based sons of the soil. “The weather is not bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days.” Maybe though it would be time to make public the sort of pressure we women have to face sometimes in the field of sport, with several coaches and officials interested in anything but the sport, but instead treating us as sport.

Even in horseracing, if a woman was in power, then there would be no way the bookmakers would get away with murder on the type of limits they have in English racing. We would be able to work together and not be concerned with going around at night picking up after the punters in the bookmakers’ shop. I find it very insulting that someone could suggest that it was us women who put all the garbage in one bag. At least we did not lock our keys in the car last week and then take three hours to get two male friends to get inside the car.

As a woman trainer, I would be able to raise the standards of racing, with more caring and concern for the horses under my charge. Ms Dancing Brave would become the envy of the training room. I would be like honey around bees. Although the elderly trainer who tried to get too close would be rejected, as would be the spending spree official, whose brain was clearly misplaced when he told me: “That coat you wanted me to send to your home anonymously, was too heavy to send via TTPost with the buttons on, so we cut them off, and put them in the pockets.”

If you have anyone you believe can fit the mold of Ms Dancing Brave — sexy, lovely, long legged, sensuous and smooth skin — you can send their pictures to Mr Dancing Brave for consideration and maybe consultation and finally communication. I may need to do a physical examination of the candidate though. For the best in website management and change management check cornelis-associates.com