The Rice Thresher

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October 12, 2007 > Sports > Powderpuff’s profile calls for better protection

Powderpuff’s profile calls for better protection

By Casey Michel | Thresher Editorial Staff

Powderpuff?

Seriously?

When I first saw that the Thresher’s sports section covered powderpuff, I scoffed. What self-respecting newspaper such as this would cover a mundane, laughable, wholly fringe sport like powderpuff? How could anyone possibly take this paper seriously?

You see, I like to think I know a thing or two about sports — why else would my bosses have hired me? I’m a power hitter when it comes to baseball info, a sophomore sensation when it comes to hardwood acumen and at least a Zamboni driver when it comes to hockey knowledge. To me, these are the sports that matter, because these are the sports I know.

But powderpuff?

I actually thought I had a grasp on what powderpuff entailed. Granted, I had never been to a game before, nor had I ever really seen one played, but my glory days of freshman flag taught me a thing or two about that type of football. The game has as much contact as a croquet tournament and the only ones who took it seriously were the senior (a.k.a. washed-up) coaches living vicariously through the frosh.

Powderpuff uses flags, so it has to be the same, right?

Wrong.

I finally went to my first Powderpuff game this year (I’ve only just shed my high school haughtiness). There were the dainty little ladies, all dressed up in jerseys and matching uniforms — glorified Halloween costumes, how cute, I thought.

Again, wrong.

The second the whistle blew, a pall of aggression encompassed the entire field. Eye-black replaced mascara, and guttural grunts and growls took the place of tittering laughs. The linemen could have made a mountain lion cower in fear. With an intimidating, foreboding gleam in their eyes, they made me question what femininity truly meant.

Some strange sort of female ferocity has replaced the playfulness that pervades the game at other institutions. These girls hit harder than the inevitable day-after-NOD hangover, and dole out less mercy than Jack Nicholson in The Departed. Some sort of rage, concealed behind their sweet exteriors, is unleashed between the chalk-lines.

And when talk of a Thresher powderpuff spread — and subsequent betting ring — arises, when people get heated over the powderpuff predictions box, or when a Brown coach and a certain Sid quarterback go at each other in the middle of class because she accused a saint-like Brown sophomore of faking her marvelous exploits — preposterous, I know — a corner has been turned.

Powderpuff has become more than it needs to be. While seeing those women go at each other like South American soccer fans is unbelievably entertaining, their safety has been marginalized. Shouldn’t something be changed when a player receives concussions in successive games? Or when a block in the back crumples a girl like an autumn leaf and ends with a torn ACL?

I can see only two solutions to this problem: Scale back the amount of contact or accelerate the evolution. While flat-out tackle football may be a bit much, it is not too much to ask for pads and mouth guards. Those in charge — coordinators, coaches and administrators alike — need to make a decision, and make it soon.

We all just need to step back, take a breather from the “Pain Train” and rethink our goals. The women are out there to support the college and, while some of them may look as dangerous as Britney Spears around her kids, we need to make sure we protect them. They are giving their all, and we should make sure that they can continue.

Once again: Powderpuff?

Hell yeah, powderpuff.

Casey Michel is a Brown College sophomore and sports editor.

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