Ray St. Louis
2/19/97
BETWEEN THE LINES
In case you missed it, the third Wednesday of February is traditionally a really big day in the world
of sports. No, it has nothing to do with the beginning of baseball's spring training, although many of
the teams were starting up at about that same time. This is much bigger than that.
Nor does it relate to the basketball or hockey seasons. Both of these sports are plodding through
the latter stages of their regular seasons in order to establish the final standings, which they then
completely ignore so that every team can start all over again in the playoffs.
Nor is this a football thing. There's nothing happening in the world of football, unless you get off on
press conferences featuring newly signed millionaire free agents.
Football, schmootball. This is much, much bigger than that.
This big day in sports has nothing to do with any of those things. Not golf, not tennis, not track and
field. Not horse racing, not Jai-Alai. Not Dallas, not Daytona, not Tallahassee, not Green Bay, not
the Swamp. It's much, much, much bigger than all of those.
This is the day that sports fans eagerly anticipate all year long. The day that brings them back to
the sports sections of newsstands all over America like swallows to Capistrano. The day that
announces to the world that sports truly is a man thing.
This is the day that Sports Illustrated releases the swimsuit issue.
In case you were wondering, this year's theme is "nothing but bikinis." The only reason I know this
is because I just happened to catch a brief (sorry about the pun) story about it on one of those TV
magazine shows.
Oh yeah, I also just happened to catch a glimpse of a USA Today article on the subject. Oh yeah, I
also just happened to go out and buy a copy.
The reason the editors of SI put out the swimsuit issue this time of year is precisely because
nothing is happening in the sports world in late February. You've got to hand it to these guys for
coming up with some innovative logic a couple of decades ago when they first conceived of the
idea.
It must have gone something like this: We are a sports news publication. Swimming is a sport.
Swimmers wear swimsuits. Therefore, photographs of nearly naked women in skimpy swimsuits is
news that fits our format. Let's devote an issue to the subject every year.
I believe I speak for all men when I say thank you, SI. Thank you for turning lust into something as
innocent as sport. Now when a total stranger asks "what are you reading?" in a crowded dental
office waiting room, I can answer without embarrassment, "I'm reading about sports. You know,
volleyball, water polo, nearly naked women."
However, the real thanks (and again I believe I speak for all men) belong to the female half of the
species: the wives, the girlfriends. Thank you for pretending not to see through this little ruse.
It would be so easy for you ladies to say something like, "SPORTS! THAT'S NOT SPORTS. THAT'S
PURE PORNOGRAPHY! GO SLEEP ON THE COUCH YOU PIG!"
However, you don't say that and we thank you for it.
Because, after all, it's not pornography. The little postage stamp-size swimsuits make sure of that.
As a matter of fact, the immense popularity of the swimsuit issue proves how truly moral the vast
majority of American men are. If we weren't all riddled with moral scruples, we would all just go out
and buy a Playboy or a Penthouse and be done with it.
Yes, Sport's Illustrated's swimsuit issue proves beyond the shadow of a doubt the depth of our
moral fiber.
The best part is we don't have to feel guilty. Any red-blooded American male who has an inclination
to ogle over suntanned, sea-sprayed, scantily clad female bodies cavorting on tropical beaches is
simply being a sports fan.
This time around, the editors of SI have even gone one step further in the effort to garner
respectability. In addition to the usual super models, photographs of actual female athletes - clad in
skimpy bikinis, of course - have been included.
People like Steffi Graf who, one would think, had pretty well proved her worth in this man's world
without having to resort to selling her body. Sure, she can hit a tennis ball harder than almost any
woman (or man) on the planet, but does she look good in a bikini?
Well, she does. But now that I've seen Steffi Graf in a bikini, that big nose bothers me a little more
than it used to. In fact, I've always admired Steffi Graf for not getting her nose fixed. It said to the
world, "This is me. I play great tennis. I have a big nose. Live with it."
If I could send a message to Steffi Graf, I would say, "Steffi, if you just want to be yourself, that's
fine. But if you now want to also be a glamorous sex symbol, you've got to do something about that
honker."
Anyway, I hope all my male counterparts out there had a happy Swimsuit Issue Day. As for myself,
I'm heading to the nearest beach with a pair of binoculars to engage in a little more wholesome
sporting activity.