As I watched the NBA All-Star Celebrity Game Friday night, I was at first amused by the antics of the wannabe ballers, but then I started to get aggravated.
From the incessant shots of Eva Longoria to the undermining of a women's on-court talent, it began to remind me of my experiences as a sports editor.
Despite the fact that two WNBA athletes were on the court playing with the men, the woman that received the most TV time from ESPN was the sultry Desperate Housewife.
Longoria was the coach of the H-Town Rockets. The camera kept shooting Longoria but only to remind fans that she is the girlfriend of NBA All-Star Tony Parker.
I don't know if the ESPN commentators thought she would know about basketball by osmosis but her apparent lack of basketball knowledge, her high heels and her aloof comments aggravated me.
It became painful to watch, but I love the game of basketball, so I allowed the torture to continue. The ESPN producers continuously focused on the glam shots of Longoria, most likely for the men that were tuning in.
Regardless of the guys watching, ESPN failed to give proper credit to the females on the court. WNBA player Becky Hammon proved her talent by leading all scorers midway through the fourth quarter with eight points.
As the commentators looked over the box score, they discovered that the New York Liberty star was leading the game and one of the two men replied, "That's hard to believe."
Why is it hard to believe that a woman was leading the scorers? She is a professional basketball player sharing the court with rappers, actors, and television commentators.
Give the woman some credit.
But you know what? I should expect it. I've experienced similar situations in my time as a sports editor.
Twice while traveling with the football team last season I was questioned as to why I, a female, was in the company of "such young, strapping men," as one lady put it.
An older woman, checking in at a table in the hotel lobby, saw me walking with the crowd of football players leaving the hotel. She stopped me and asked me for I.D. I was completely perplexed. She continued to question my reasoning for being with the team, as if she were the team's bodyguard. At first I laughed at her questioning but then I became offended.
And it didn't just happen once. At one university, it was just assumed that I was a wife, on the trip with one of the coaches. I went to walk into the press box and an usher stopped me, informing me that I was about to walk into the press box. Gee, thanks, I couldn't read the huge sign on the door. When I explained that I am a sports editor for a paper at the university, I got an odd look and the person just walked away, confused.
Yes, I have boobs and I cover sports. Get over it.
I don't understand why it's such a hard concept for some people to grasp that women enjoy sports. Is it because people see images of beautiful women pretending to know sports and they assume all women are like that? Is it because girls are practically bred to be princesses?
I probably sound like a raging feminist but it's far from the case.
It appears that growing up, girls aren't supposed to like sports. They're not supposed to want to wear jerseys, talk stats or know more terminology than the boys. Girls are force-fed princess movies filled with frilly dresses, love-struck maidens and strong men that save the day.
As I grew up, I watched grown men battle each other in a squared circle, learned to bark with the best of them and pretended that the athletes and referees on the other side of the TV could hear me yelling at them. And I loved every second of it.
I'll take an upset, five channels of ESPN, and a box score over a ticket to Princess Land any day of the week.
But then again, every once in a while, the two worlds collide.
An ESPN commercial put it best in their revamp of a princess classic: without sports, Cinderella wouldn't wear sneakers.
