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Because we (John Willis and Ron Dumont) were concerned about what we felt was a sexist story used in the Story Memory subtest of the Wide Range Assessment of Memory and Learning (WRAML), we created an alternative sexist story (One bad turn deserves another). It was the day after the Thanksgiving Day football game and winter was fast approaching. The team was to assemble for their annual penny sale and post-game breakfast. This was always an enjoyable event, but anything but tranquil. It was amazing to watch the players consume enormous quantities of food in such an audacious manner. Speeches were given and players got to ponder the team's ups and downs. Superstitious Coach Willis could not conceal his remorse for the tirade he had subjected his players to over the season. He had been the captain of the ship, and the players his crew, and he was not about to terminate that bond. He was reluctant to commence his talk, but he felt it imminent. He knew he needed to repair the damage done to the very fabric of his team. With no tangible way to retreat to a sanctuary, he summoned enough fortitude to begin his remarks. Sentence after sentence flowed from his mouth, only a few of which he had plagiarized. As he spoke, what he thought would be an ominous task became a bed of roses. He was giving a dilatory, yet rousing pep talk to the team. Hoping they would absorb the message of his boast, he reminded them that the opposing team, Midvale, with its donkey mascot, had been undefeated, but that, despite the unanimous opinion of local fans, their success was no aberration. The fable of Midvale's invincibility was just transparent nonsense. Midvale could be, and was, defeated in the game. His brave team had put in a lot of strenuous work all season for one precise purpose. By practicing for up to three hours every day, they had been able to mimic Midvale's undefeated record. Coach Willis reminded them how they had to regulate and designate specific time to seclude themselves to study every play and every amendment in the playbooks as seriously as they did their ancient history text. Nothing could obstruct or encumber their goal. Thanksgiving had now come and gone, and the matchless gridiron rivalry was over. Coach Willis recalled his feelings in those final victorious moments when the gong of the clock was the signal to end the game. Our team had been the thief of the winning point. He reminded us of how the fans, each carrying a cow bell and wearing the official team hat and umbrella with the team initials printed in the Gothic alphabet, began to migrate toward the perimeter of the stadium so as to leave for home by car or bicycle. What had been done to generate such success? Undoubtedly it was our lucky jock straps. After the very first victory of the year, the coach had tried to compel the team not to wash their lucky straps. Despite some affliction, and often making each player a domestic and social island, the players had left the jock straps unwashed. This had helped win the first game, and now it had helped win the championship! Coach's final words were to the one girl on the team. She was the only player whom he had not allowed into the game. With little compassion, and without being at all evasive, he looked her in the eye, and cruelly explained why she had not been allowed in the game. He simply said "A man you ain't, Sis!" |