Reimagining traditional sports
So word on the street—from my friends in the know—is that there’s some kind of sports thing happening around town.
Now, I know I shouldn’t be snarky: if watching underage, overpaid dudes skate back and forth across a cold rink while stick-handling their substitute phalluses, then more power to you! And I suppose there’s a kind of energy in the city that is exciting in its novelty. But any tolerance I may have had for Stanley Cup fever was dashed the morning of the very first game.
A caller on a local radio morning show said she wasn’t a huge fan of hockey. Shortly after, the host began to read the barrage of gross misogynistic messages the station received in response, because how dare a woman have an opinion about sports.
If I am really being fair, I suppose my resistance isn’t to the sport of hockey itself (which, let’s be real, is where a not-insignificant number of lesbians have found community and first girlfriends) so much as to bro hockey culture. But I’ll spare you a rant about how bro hockey culture is a breeding ground for toxic masculinity and instead skip to the fun bit: let’s imagine a world where queers have taken over and redesigned sports in our image. Ready?
Drag baseball/bingo/karaoke will rule the pro sports circuit: baseball will run during the spring and early summer with bingo and karaoke taking over during the fall and winter. There will be a lengthy pause in July and August for what we’ll say is for tanning and high heel repair but everyone will know it’s because spirit gum, heavy eye shadow and high temperatures don’t mix. There will be three leagues: kings, queens and smash the gender binary.
A small but mighty offshoot sport will grow out of this trifecta: glitter application. Points are awarded based on creativity, coverage and limiting glitter contamination.
For those who prefer contact sports, there will be cruising. We’ll do it old school: dark nights, great parks with lots of secluded nooks—no Grindr allowed. Audience participation is mandatory.
Naturally, not everyone likes being outside or physically active. For the more cerebral, we’ll have the ultimate queer Olympics. And no, this isn’t the normal Olympics but only with queer athletes. This is a competition to see who is the most queer. Will the bisexual power femme who only uses organic sex toys manage to best the vanilla polysexual polyamorous bear? It’ll be a nail-biter!
After the gold medals are awarded (of course they aren’t real gold because mining is environmentally devastating; in fact, they are less of a physical object and more of a feeling that you get to brag about on social media), make sure to stick around for queer theory trivia. Pro tip: when in doubt, guess “Judith Butler.”
The potluck circuit is especially competitive. Regulation season includes creating delicious dishes that are gluten-free, soy-free, tree-nut and peanut-free, vegan, sugar-free, kosher, trans-fat free, free-range, locally produced and raw. The playoff season ups the ante by catering to people who are also allergic to fruits, vegetables and carbon.
Burlesque, boy-lesque, cage dancing and bathing suit competitions are also de rigueur. Naturally, they are inclusive of all bodies.
In the meantime, while I wait for my queer utopia to arrive, I’ll continue to roll my eyes at obnoxious bros, walk around pools of vomit, occasionally let my wife have the tv to watch the game and hope that at least local businesses are making a killing. Besides, this is the year that the Flames are finally going to go all the way.