by James Blake
Let Us in the Game
Now that I have two wonderfully precocious daughters, I am more aware than ever of issues affecting women in society and sports. I look back in appreciation at the monumental women who made themselves a part of the sport they were passionate about and through their perseverance and undeniable talent simply could not be ignored.
There are so many amazingly talented and inspirational women in history who have opened up their sport and changed how women were viewed, and also how girls themselves viewed sports and their place in it. Many of these trailblazers have gone without substantial recognition for their accomplishments during a time in American history when a woman was not even allowed to keep her job if she was pregnant, and when a woman could not get a credit card, have a legal abortion, file a sexual harassment suit, or even refuse to have sex with her husband. Women did not have any of these rights before 1970.
Mildred Ella “Babe” Didrikson Zaharias was born in 1911. A woman ahead of her time, she was considered an all-around athlete of the twentieth century. A natural athlete from a young age, Zaharias competed in a wide range of sports and did phenomenally well in all of them. After dropping out of high school to become an athlete, she ran track and field and won multiple Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) wins and Olympic gold and silver medals in running, jumping, and throwing contests in the 1932 Los Angeles Olympics. Zaharias played All-American basketball and had multiple golf wins—an incredible eighty-two amateur and professional tournaments—and was the first woman to qualify for the Los Angeles Open and play in the PGA Tour. She also played competitive billiards, and competed in sports like tennis, diving, and bowling. In her spare time, she sang and played harmonica, and even recorded several songs on the Mercury Records label. Zaharias faced sexism and jabs from reporters who did not believe that women should be allowed to play sports. Zaharias silenced them by continuing to be one of the best athletes of her time, regardless of her gender or their opinions.
At a time when women struggled for equal rights, Zaharias’s goal was to be “the greatest athlete who ever lived.” Not the greatest female athlete. The greatest athlete. Period. She took on every sport she was allowed to play and excelled at all of them. Her versatility, drive, and all-around natural talent and accomplishments helped chip away at the preconceived notions, prejudices, and institutional barriers facing female athletes in the 1900s.
Gertrude Ederle was born in 1905 and first achieved fame when she competed in the 1924 Olympics. At nineteen, she became the first woman to swim the English Channel and the sixth person in history to achieve that feat. She completed her swim on her second attempt in fourteen hours and thirty-one minutes, beating the record set by the previous male channel swimmers. Her accomplishments may not seem monumental until you consider that she rose to fame in 1920s Manhattan. This was a time when women had to fight for the right to remove their stockings when swimming, because their bare legs might prove distracting.
On her return to New York she was met by a ticker tape parade and a crowd that greeted her arrival at City Hall, where Mayor Jimmy Walker congratulated her. Her achievement earned her the nickname “America’s Best Girl” from President Calvin Coolidge, who also invited her to the White House. At that time, her popularity was on par with that of Babe Ruth. By the time Ederle broke the record, women had been allowed to compete in competitive swimming events for only ten years, beginning in 1914. Her record remained unbroken until 1950.
Shirley “Cha Cha” Muldowney was born in 1940 and as the first female member of the Auto Racing All-American team, she was considered the first lady of professional drag racing. Muldowney was a multiple National Hot Rod Association (NHRA) winner, the first person to win the NHRA Winston competition three times. Muldowney was not just a good female racer. Though she was the first woman to accomplish many feats in the sport, many of her records stand for the sport as a whole. This makes her one of the most successful drag racers in history, regardless of gender.
As a young woman, Muldowney was no tomboy; she preferred wearing makeup and pretty dresses to sports. In 1956, at age sixteen, she married Jack Muldowney, a drag racer and mechanic who taught her how to drive. After going to races with her husband, she became intrigued with the racing world, and with Jack’s help she learned all about drag racing as well as about the technical aspects and maintenance of the high-performance vehicles. Enamored with racing, Muldowney asked her husband for permission to race. He not only gave it, but he also gave her her first car—a 1940 Ford with a V-8 engine. Muldowney started proving herself in amateur races. When she wanted to go pro, racing’s sanctioning bodies, including the NHRA and the American Hot Rod Association (AHRA), were hesitant to grant a woman professional status. Undeterred, Muldowney rallied fellow female racers Judi Boertman, Paula Murphy, and Della Woods, and launched a campaign to be allowed to race professionally. In 1965, she became the first woman pro dragster racer.
Julieann Louise “Julie” Krone was born in 1963, and though you may never have heard of her, she was the winningest female jockey of all time. With 3,456 career wins over eighteen years, Krone was also the first woman to compete in the Breeders’ Cup, and as of 2017, she remains the only female jockey to have won a Triple Crown race.
Raised on a horse farm, Krone began riding horses at two and won her first horse show when she was five years old. At the age of fourteen, after watching eighteen-year-old Steve Cauthen win a Triple Crown race, she decided that she wanted to become a jockey. She was a natural rider and although only 4’10”, she was a fierce competitor in a sport that saw few female competitors. Male riders tried to sabotage her during races by boxing her horse in by the rail. But Krone fought back. According to a 1988 article in the Los Angeles Times, “In 1986, Krone had a similar scuffle with jockey Miguel Rujano at Monmouth Park. Rujano felt that Krone was riding her mount too close to his, and, in order, this developed: Rujano hit Krone in the back of the head with his whip. Krone punched Rujano after the race. Rujano dunked Krone in the jockeys’ swimming pool. Krone threw a chair at Rujano.”1
Despite being a woman in a sport of men who colluded against her, Krone had monumental achievements in the eighties and nineties. She won six races in one day at both the Meadowlands and Monmouth Park, and she won five races in one day at Saratoga Springs and Santa Anita Park. A truly phenomenal athlete, she became the first woman to be inducted into the National Museum of Racing’s Hall of Fame, in 2000.
It is because of trailblazers like these that we have so many of the civil liberties and rights we have today. It is because of them that I have the opportunity, as the son of a black father and a white mother, not only to have played sports professionally, but now to be able to work as a sports commentator and discuss tennis at the games and in the media. These women and men, and so many others like them, heralded equality by their prowess. Their hard-won progress has afforded Americans unalienable rights, regardless of gender, race, sexual orientation, or religion. These phenomenal men and women showcased their amazing talent and fortitude and brought spectators, black and white, men and women, to their feet in recognition of their talent, grit, and strength of character.
Activism Stories: Big and Small Moments
In 1968 the Mexico City Summer Olympics would sorely test the 5,516 athletes, representing 112 countries in 172 events. According to Olympic.org, “The choice of Mexico City was a controversial one because of the city’s high altitude, 2,300m. The altitude proved an advantage in explosive events such as short-distance running, jumping, throwing and weightlifting. But the rarefied air proved disastrous for those competing in endurance events.”2
On October 16, eight men took their marks on the track for the men’s 200-meter dash. The short-distance runners Tommie Smith and John Carlos finished first and third. Smith set a new world record that day of 19.83 seconds. The crowd’s exuberance for the exciting race quickly turned to anger when during the medal ceremony, Carlos and Smith walked out in their socks with their heads lowered, and t
heir hands behind their backs, holding their sneakers. They then stood barefoot on the podium, in the gold and bronze positions, to symbolize the poverty and inequality that plagued so many black Americans. Carlos and Smith faced the flags, then bowed their heads and raised their fists while “The Star-Spangled Banner” played.
This gesture was to show support for human rights and equality and to take a stand for civil liberties in a devastating year of tragedies that included the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. and Bobby Kennedy. The next day, the International Olympic Committee made Smith and Carlos forfeit their medals. The athletes were suspended from the American team and told to leave the Olympic Village and Mexico immediately. The committee even threatened to boot the entire American team as punishment if they did not leave.
Although their gesture was often called a “Black Power” salute, in his autobiography, Silent Gesture, Smith wrote that it was instead a “human rights salute.” That expression is regarded as one of the most overtly political statements in the history of the Olympics. The fierce backlash from their protest followed them for decades. Even after the athletes had been disciplined, the repercussions of their actions continued. On October 25, 1968, Time magazine wrote: “‘Faster, Higher, Stronger’ is the motto of the Olympic Games. ‘Angrier, nastier, uglier’ better describes the scene in Mexico City last week.” Back in the States, both Smith and Carlos were criticized in the media and ostracized in the sports community. Smith was discharged from the army. In college, Smith was married with a young son. Someone threw a rock through a glass window at his son’s crib, missing the sleeping baby by inches. For years after, Carlos and Smith received death threats and threatening phone calls and notes that read, “Go back to Africa.”
It would not be a stretch to see a parallel between the gesture Carlos and Smith made and Kaepernick’s gesture. Demonstrating for human rights in a peaceful way does not seem so controversial. Carlos and Smith raised their fists. They did not harm anyone; they did not shout obscenities. It would be a difficult argument to make that their advocating for human rights was not valid or worthwhile. In a similar way, Kaepernick is fighting some of the same battles that were fought in 1968. He is peacefully advocating for human rights. It is not what Kaepernick is protesting that has drawn the fans’ and the media’s ire, but how he is doing it. It was much the same for Carlos and Smith. Their fight for human rights is one we can all understand and support. It was important to make their stand using the Olympics as their international platform. They decided that for the greatest impact, the world stage would afford them a lasting impression. They were right. Carlos and Smith are now considered heroes fifty years later. I wonder how long it may take for Colin Kaepernick.
John Carlos and Tommie Smith represent the ideal of the athlete activist because they were on top of the world as Olympic medalists, but they decided instead to selflessly use their platform to incite change. They were shunned for using their public moment on the podium to bring awareness to what they saw as inequality in their sport and in America. They wanted to show their displeasure with a system that they felt did not treat all men fairly or equally. Because of this dedication to their cause, they lost it all in an instant. Their peaceful protest had a ruinous ripple effect that lasted for decades.
I cannot imagine that they knew beforehand the impact it would have on their personal and professional lives. In addition to threats and harassment, they lost sponsorships and endorsements, and ultimately ruined any chances to compete at the international level ever again. Yet the fact that they made such a life-changing decision during what could be seen as one of the most important moments in their lives represents a monumental sacrifice. Although they were excoriated in the media for being selfish, that act was one of the most selfless choices I could imagine anyone making as an athlete. That gesture, in that moment, had such a negative effect on their lives, but it inspired change in a positive way simply by raising awareness at a time when the world was watching. This is one of the few times I think using the word “hero” to describe an athlete is apt. Having athletic prowess and honing that skill for most of your life is impressive and admirable, but standing up for others who do not have a voice when you can—that makes you heroic.
Today Carlos and Smith are hailed for their contribution to civil rights. They received the Arthur Ashe Courage Award at the 2008 ESPYs, and there is a statue erected in their honor at San Jose State University. However, also standing on the podium was a third man, whose story and selfless, unwavering support of their protest has all but disappeared from the annals of history. A white Australian, Peter Norman, the silver winner, who came from behind Carlos to overtake him for second place by inches, set a record at 20.06 seconds, which is still an Australian record.
Norman knew what Smith and Carlos intended to do. After winning the first, second, and third positions in the 200-meter race, the three men stood in the stadium tunnel waiting for the medal ceremony. Smith and Carlos, each wearing a black glove on one hand, discussed their now-historic plan. Norman, standing not far away, asked what they were talking about. Carlos turned to him and said, “Do you believe in human rights?” Without pausing, Norman said, “Of course.” Carlos told him that he and Smith intended to stand on the podium wearing badges in support of human rights and equality. Carlos held out the Olympic Project for Human Rights badge they intended to wear during the ceremony and asked if he would wear one. Again without pausing, Norman reached for it and said, “I’ll stand with you.”
Norman wanted to be included and to give them his full support. As they stood on the podium, the spectators could see the small white badge with a green wreath that all three wore pinned to their chest. Norman knew he could not raise his fist along with them, so he wore the badge as a show of support for human rights and solidarity with the two Americans who would become his lifelong friends. In 2006, when Norman died at age sixty-four from a heart attack, Smith and Carlos were his pallbearers.
From the perspective of many in Norman’s home country, his act was not a courageous thing for a white Australian to do; rather, it was thought of as a shameful act. But Norman did not view it that way. He felt it more important to advocate for equality with Smith and Carlos. He paid a steep price for it when he returned to Australia.
Norman kept the badge for the rest of his life, despite the backlash he faced—one that continued until his death. The white badge was an important symbol that tied him to Smith and Carlos, to that critical moment in history, and to his place in it. Norman and the part he played that momentous day to advance human rights was as lasting and powerful as the statement that Smith and Carlos made. Decades later, history would vindicate Smith and Carlos, whose actions are now celebrated, but Norman was never fully accepted back into Australian society or the athletic community.
Norman was inarguably the greatest Australian sprinter, whose time of 20.06 that day in Mexico City was a personal best and an Australian 200-meter record that is still unbroken almost fifty years later. Despite this, Norman, a five-time 200-meter champion, never again competed professionally after Mexico City. In Australia, the Olympic silver winner was ostracized and his family shunned. Norman was reprimanded by Australia’s Olympic authorities and then ostracized by the Australian media. Despite his qualifying for both the 100-meter and the 200-meter races, the Australian Olympic track team did not send Norman, or any other sprinters, to the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics. It was the first time in modern Olympic history that no Australian sprinters would participate. Australian officials said that they supported Norman at the 1968 games. Norman represented his country at the 1972 Commonwealth Games.
Norman left the sports world behind, and looked for work, but it was hard to find. The Australian silver medal winner and record holder eventually secured a job as a gym teacher, but he battled depression and alcoholism for many years.
“If we were getting beat up, Peter was facing an entire country and suffering alone,” John Carlos said of the man who became h
is lifelong friend. Norman was reportedly given the opportunity to better his circumstances, but it would mean condemning John Carlos’s and Tommie Smith’s actions. Had he done so, according to reports, Norman would have secured a stable job through the Australian Olympic Committee and been part of the organization of the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. Norman, although now in dire financial straits, chose not to speak out against the gesture Smith and Carlos had made, or his part in it.
Subsequently, Norman, the greatest Australian sprinter in history and the holder of the 200-meter record, was not invited to the Olympics in Sydney. It was the American Olympic Committee that asked him to join its group. Norman died without his country ever fully recognizing him for the hero he was in bringing home the silver medal for the 1968 Olympics or for his stellar athletic accomplishments.
Years later, in 2012, the Australian Parliament considered a posthumous apology to Norman. According to a 2012 article in The Nation,
Here is the text of the resolution that will be offered into parliament by MPs Rob Oakeshott and Andrew Leigh:
That this House; Recognises the extraordinary athletic achievements of the late Peter Norman, who won the silver medal in the 200 metres sprint running at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, in a time of 20.06 seconds, which still stands as the Australian record;
