Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Watched the first half hour or so of Million Dollar Baby again and the thing which I didn't notice the first time is Frankie's ability to interact with women in a productive way. Not just that he doesn't treat them as sex objects. Not just that he respects them. But that he takes them seriously, takes them at their word, eventually. And gives them what they ask for, straight.

This sincerity is evident when contrasted in the scene of her first (and last) fight under another trainer/manager. The manager does not give a solid strategy when she asks, instead gives only meaningless pep talks. Now, maybe it's his own shortcomings as a trainer/manager; maybe he's all fluff himself and hasn't any idea about boxing. Or maybe he underestimates her.

How often I have been under such management, professionally, athletically and "ecclesially". I'll discuss my athletic experience under male coaches from a long time ago as it's not likely to upset anyone:

When I ran a 3:06 for the 800 meters in tennis shoes on a cinder track as a seventh grader, my male coach remarked, "Not bad for a girl." His words would ring through my ears over the next ten years of racing.

The worse coach I ever had, towards the end of my college career, was an ex-football coach. He was all pep and nothing practical, a lot like that trainer/manager in Million Dollar Baby.

I remember the time he gave me a fructose drink at the beginning of a day of racing!

By my third race, dead last, I was running slow enough to overhear bystanders commenting on me,
"Isn't this the same girl who ran that terrifically freakish mile in the DMR? Look at her now in last place!"
Race officials were completely unaware of me so far behind that I ran into one who had stepped onto the track in lane 1 as the pack passed, his back to me coming.

My mile was 5:17 that day, one of my best times, against a headwind ... and with a tailwind, yes, an outdoor, oval track works that way. Well, the 3200 was never my event ... I guess the ex-football coach just wanted to prove that to me.

The head coach, Richard Barry, had a knack for coaching girls. Heptathletes.

He wasn't interested in me, a middle distance runner with no field events. He had an All-American during my time there who had tried out for the Olympic team. I can't remember if she was an alternate or what. And he knew how to coach boys.

His assistant -- I won't give his name because it would be too easily confused with another man with the same name who is rather prominent in the news right now -- was very good at coaching women. Maybe the fact that he was gay gave him an edge. Well, he taught me to run on pace with interval training such that I knew what a 72 sec. quarter felt like.

You can probably figure out that professionally and in the church, I have had similar experiences, a few good, most bad. But I am grateful that my husband is one of the good male managers in my life.

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