I was standing there at Indian River High School, watching the Lady Indians take on Milford last Friday night... until I realized that I wasn’t.
The same team that I had seen game in and game out over the past two years, apparently, isn’t who I thought they were — or at least, they aren’t anymore. “No more ‘Lady Indians,’” IRHS Athletic Director Todd Fuhrman told me, “just ‘Indians.’”
That’s right. Eventually you won’t see the word “Lady” before “Indians” on any of the school’s team jerseys, and starting this week you won’t see it in Coastal Point sports headlines, and starting last Friday, you stopped seeing it in game updates from @CPointSports on Twitter. It’ll all say just “Indians.”
At first, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the change. I wasn’t necessarily opposed to it, and I wasn’t necessarily for it, either. But, according to Todd, it’s what the female athletes at Indian River High School want, so I suppose that it’s the way it should be, then.
It does however bring forth the age old question, “What’s in a name?” — which Shakespeare did a pretty decent job of answering a thousand years ago or whatever, talking about roses and whatnot, but could certainly use a modern spin from a local sports writer pompous enough to compare himself to one of the greatest writers of all time.
The truth of the matter is that names are important, and a lot of the time, can be a strong indicator of what to expect. Sometimes it’s warranted; sometimes it’s not. For example, I probably wouldn’t go to a dentist named Dr. Payne; but conversely, I’d have no problem taking my pet to a veterinarian named Dr. Katz — you know, that is if I was responsible enough to take care of a cat.
And no matter how many times you’re told that you “can’t judge a book by its cover” growing up, eventually you realize that sometimes you most certainly can. Just look at “Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2” — without its appropriate title, how else would I know not to go see it because it’s a terrible movie? Actually go see it? I don’t think so.
The same can be said for a team that’s called “the Lady Indians” and a team that’s just called “the Indians.” By their jerseys saying less, really, the girls are saying more. It’s a statement. A statement that says, “Don’t think of us as female athletes — just think of us as athletes.”
I get it, as I’m sure most of you do, as well. It’s 2015. Times aren’t changing — they’ve changed. Women can be anything they want. “Stay-at-home dad” is a real thing. People know better than to go see movies starring Kevin James, and my friend Frank is even starting to come around to the idea of using a smartphone.
The changes have been made at the NCAA level, too. The University of Tennessee women’s athletic programs formerly and somewhat famously dubbed the “Lady Vols” are just the “Volunteers” now — just like the football team.
When I was growing up, idolizing the Syracuse University lacrosse team, all my gear said “Syracuse Orangemen,” on it. Now it’ll say “Syracuse Orange,” because it was determined that Orangemen was unfair to the Orange...women, which makes sense, and certainly makes more sense than calling their women’s lacrosse team the Syracuse “Lady Orangemen.”
So, just like it seems like the rest of the sports world is on board with dropping the word “Lady” when referring to female athletics, now the local sports reporter comparing himself to Shakespeare is, too. After all, I was probably one of the most guilty parties to being blind to the inequality that the name represents.
There was never a tweet or a headline where I didn’t refer to a girls’ sports team as the “Lady Indians” or the “Lady Golden Knights” or the “Lady Ravens,” or whatever it happened to be, whether the team’s uniforms said the same or not.
When I’m writing my weekly list of events to cover or labeling sports photos, etc., I usually label boys’ lacrosse as “lacrosse,” but for girls’ sports, I always put “girls’” before whatever it sport it happens to be. It’s the same thing when a girl’s jersey says “Lady Indians” and a boy’s jersey just says “Indians,” instead of an equivalent, like “Gentlemen Indians.”
So, while I wasn’t quite sure where I weighed in at first, I certainly am now, and that’s what these new jerseys can do for us all. They’ll serve as an overdue reminder that, really, they’re all just “Indians” and they’re all just athletes. They’re all a part of the same “tribe” and representing the same school’s proud athletic tradition — no matter what sport they’re playing.