Sports news, I am sorry to say, has a way of slipping right past me. It shouldn’t, because sport in Western culture pretty much exists to reaffirm the dearest principles of patriarchy, and you know how irritated I get when that happens. But the sports section is the one I roll up to hit giant cockroaches with, so I am always the last to know when it turns out that Grand Slam tennis tournaments pay women less in prize money than men.
That’s right. I just found out that the US Open and the Australian Open pay equally, but the French Open won’t take on the outlandishly radical challenges of pay equity until next year, and you can forget Wimbledon, which is inextricably mired in Renaissance-era pay scales. In 2000 fucking 5!
Tennis players at this level are all pretty much on easy street, and I’m not losing any sleep over what may potentially deprive this year’s female French Open winner of a new Birkin bag, but paying her less than a guy with a dick is pure fucktardery.
And you know what else? OK, this is going to sound fairly loony coming from an inhabitant of the homeland of professional bike-ridin’ rock star datin’ doper cancer patient Lance Armstrong, but look, not everybody in Austin has a bike growing out of their ass. OK? So I just found out that the Tour de France is a dude-only dealio. Not only that, but my research indicates that there is no women’s bicycle race of commensurate prestige. How fucking bogus is that?
Here is a condensed version of my views on these matters.