Women and Sports in the United States: A Documentary Reader

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242 WOMEN AND SPORTS IN THE UNITED STATES Doering and NCLR Homophobia in Sports coordinator Carroll were unsuccessful in getting Zimbardi reinstated for the remainder of the season . Doering is especially dismayed by the university’s insistence that nothing wrong had occurred, and by the fact that Zimbardi had been retaliated against for raising her concerns. “This is the poster child for how not to respond to allegations,” Doering says. “They eliminated the problem by eliminating the victim.” The currently active player interviewed by Outsports, who spoke on the promise of anonymity, claims the team was never told why Zimbardi was released. She says the team speculated that it might have had something to do with Zimbardi’s sexuality. But this player also says she didn’t think Johns “was discriminatory based on someone’s sexual preference.” This player adds that she was not taking sides and had a good relationship with both Johns and Zimbardi. She adds that the coach praised Zimbardi even after her release, saying at one point, “Andrea reminds me so much of me.” “I believe Andrea feels the way she does for a reason,” this player says. “I don’t think she would make things up. It’s unfortunate this could not be resolved and our team has suffered. We lost a great player and a huge asset. . . . I hope [this story] gets to the bottom of what really happened.” Zimbardi continued to attend games and root for her teammates, who made it as far as the NCAA regional finals before bowing out. Now that her playing career is over, she hopes her going public will “prevent other athletes from going through this.” She still bleeds Gator Blue. “The University of Florida always wants the best,” she says. “I hope that by me doing this will make them better than they already are. If they want the best [for the softball program] they better keep looking. All I care about is the program.” y LESS UGLY Lesléa Newman Chocolate pudding had just been passed out and the Minnows at the next table were busy flinging it at each other when Sam stood up and Marlene stopped breathing. Marlene was in love with Sam, with his stringy blond From Sportsdykes, Susan Fox Rogers, ed. New York: St. Martin’s, 1994. hair and wire-rimmed glasses, with his long slender fingers and the way he’d wrap them around the neck of his Martin guitar, with his twangy voice which Marlene insisted was fifty times better than Bob Dylan’s any day. But Sam didn’t know Marlene was alive, he being a senior counselor and all, and she, like me, being a lowly Trout, which wasn’t as bad as being a Minnow . But still it would be two years until we were Dolphins, and some of the Dolphins went out with counselors on the sly even though they weren’t supposed to, especially since three years ago a girl got pregnant under a canoe and her parents sued Camp Wildwood for almost a million dollars. At least that’s what Tina Jacobs said and she was a wealth of such vital information . She’s the one who informed me that anything over a mouthful’s a waste anyway the first time she saw me in a bathing suit. But Marlene said she was just jealous because Tina was as flat as the postcards our counselors handed out every Friday so we could write to our parents and tell them what a great time we were having or something to that effect if we wanted to help ourselves to a make-your-own-sundae at nine o’clock in the canteen. Anyway, like I said, Sam stood up, cleared his throat and held up a plastic baggy full of cigarette butts. The usual roar of the dining room fell to a hushed din as Sam dramatically turned the baggy upside down and dumped its contents onto the wooden floor. “I don’t smoke,” he said, and for one second the room was silent except for Marlene’s sigh of utter ecstasy . Then Sam sat down and the general chaos of two hundred campers and counselors started up again. “Oh Marlene.” I lowered my glasses to the tip of my nose and looked over their tortoise-shell rims at her in mock dismay. She was still staring at Sam, her eyes huge and all liquidy, like two pools of chocolate pudding about to ooze down her...