I can trace my love of sports back to my father. As the oldest of four children, he must have wanted a boy to play sports with very badly. By the time I was six years old; I could throw, catch, dribble, kick, and hit almost anything. In addition, I recognized the sound of Vin Scully’s voice with the very first syllable. I could outrun and outplay most of the boys in the neighborhood. You see, being “tall for my age” only added to my athletic interests.

The girls in grade school wanted to be prissy and talk about Barbie and their Easy-Bake Ovens. Since I had mohawked my Barbie and never picked up on cooking, I spent recess playing handball, tetherball, and on the bars. I kicked everyone’s butt at tetherball! Being taller than the rest of the kids, I had a distinct advantage. My big break came in the 5th grade when I was in a 5th/6th combination class. The teacher was the coach of the 6th grade boy’s football squad and noticed my athletic ability and my much-worn Los Angeles Rams t-shirt. When it came time to play, I was chosen as a starter for the team. My parents never told me that girls weren’t supposed to play and supported my interest. Moreover, my two best friends were guys and they had made the cut as well. The three of us were so pumped for our first game and I had a remarkable run and the other team complained I tackled too roughly.

Did I get grief? Of course! Not everyone on the team was so excited to see me there. I fortunately had another athletic girl on the squad with me, so I wasn’t totally alone. You see, in liberal Southern California, no one told children that they couldn’t do something because of their gender. To this day, I can only barely remember the naysayers from this time period. I mostly remember the opportunity and how I stopped the other team’s star player dead in his tracks! This remains one of my most precious memories in sports and of my entire childhood.

Today you can find me on the sidelines for a multitude of sports. Most notably, I am the team journalist for a women’s professional football team and sports reporter for an independent publication in Southern California. I have a daily sports blog that keeps up with international and local sporting events as well.

Do I still get grief? You bet! I’ve been called some of the most horrifying names by men that I can’t possibly repeat. There are those that get very angry and find my enthusiasm and knowledge about sports intimidating and resort to immature name calling. Guess what? I really don’t care and I only respond to these individuals with gratitude for reading my articles, if at all. The fact that my writing drives some to that strong of an opinion means that I am doing my job. If my writing moves someone to that kind of emotion then I must be effective. Most likely, they are extremely jealous that I was hired by someone to write about sports and they weren’t.