A fairy tale, of sorts.
Once Upon a Time in the WNBA
Once upon a time, very different from our time, there was a kingdom where women played basketball.In that kingdom, skill was required to be drafted into the WNBA. Little or nothing was required to determine whether you were, in fact, a woman. Everyone seemed to know.
Women played happily, fiercely, and competitively against other women. Some were tall, some were fast, some could shoot from almost anywhere, while others played ferocious defense, blocking shots and stealing the ball with the enthusiasm of a medieval highwayman.
There were some, however, who appeared to have wandered onto the court directly from the set of Mad Max.
Lot of that going around lately, seems like. Onwards.
It was a wonderfully complicated kingdom, but the players wanted to get paid.
Owners, presidents, chief operating officers, marketing experts, public-relations professionals, lawyers, and assorted executives worked diligently to make sure the ladies received an income, while, naturally, the NBA helped subsidize the kingdom’s financial arrangements much like paying child support for a child that isn’t your own.
And everything was peaceful. Well, mostly.
The lovely Sophie Cunningham of the Indiana Fever opened her mouth. And suddenly, the kingdom discovered that the word woman was apparently more complicated than a full-court press.
Sophie said that women and girls should not have to compete against biological males. That’s all, nothing more. It was difficult to imagine a more ordinary thing.
But this was no longer “Once Upon a Time.” It was now.
And over the dark mountains of doom came Megan Rapinoe, flying upon her rhetorical broomstick, shouting words such as “inclusion,” “compassion,” and “hate” as the wind whipped her golden-purple hair behind her.
“Inclusion!” screeched the witch of the dark kingdom. “Biology!” cried Cunningham.
The room fell silent.
The officials gathered together under the banner of something called the Anti-Hate Task Force.
Their mission was noble: nobody should be harassed, bullied, assaulted, or humiliated. Transgender people, like everyone else, should be treated with dignity. Everyone agreed, nodded, and smiled.
Then, someone asked the question nobody seemed prepared to answer: “What exactly is the women’s athletic category, and who is eligible to enter it?”
Suddenly, the kingdom shook with a hissy fit.
Read on for the (hopefully) happy ending, wherein Hugh Laurie (of all people!) makes his appearance as the Great And Powerful Oz. Well, okay, more or less, kinda-sorta.