Beach Volleyball – a few matters arising

A beach volleyball arse (BrazilWomen’sBeach via flickr)

Before the giant Voldemorts and Beckham going all 007, London 2012 had a fairly inauspicious start. 
Women’s football kicked things off in front of, well, hardly anyone.

The Panther of News cast his discerning eye over them and said: “Just look at them. I’m 45 and I could beat that goalie. Women just can’t do football very well, it’s something to do with their spacial awareness.”

There followed a long silence, broken only by the small sounds a woman makes when she is contemplating mariticide but realises that whatever means she chooses will leave a mess.

Then I tried to point out that women’s football is, of course, different, it’s played by women. If it was the same as men it would just be like Fernando Torres and Christiano Ronaldo with breasts, and what would be the point of that?


A few days later and there was much excitement up and down the country. It was the beach volleyball.


“Yes!” The Panther of News was punching the air and leaping off the sofa, I raised an eyebrow. 

“This is really good. I started watching because, well, because they’re hardly wearing anything but then I got sucked in to the game,” he explained.

“They don’t have to wear those tiny pants. They have a choice,” he had clearly done his research.


And I suppose if I looked like that, I might be quite keen to cavort thus attired. Where’s the harm?


Then he said: “It’s like porn. They keep slapping each other’s bums and hugging.”


Erm, no. It’s not like porn. Porn is created with the intent of sexually arousing people. And it is watch with the intention of becoming sexually aroused. By wankers actually. 


Uneasy, this set me to wondering. Is women’s sport only worth watching if the players are decorative? Or are firm limbs and tight buttocks merely an added perk of athleticism to be admired by all? A man thing, perhaps?


Then it was the diving. Tom Daley and his broad-shouldered young partner tried so hard, didn’t they? 


But then I noticed Twitter, erm, awash with lust-crazed comments about the good-looking young diver. 


“Tom Daley should just make his own TV show where we can watch him diving and showering all day,” for example, to very unlady-like speculation about the contents of his small swimming trunks. 


Perhaps the best, and easiest, conclusion would be that being fitter makes you sexier. Everyone enjoys the sight of someone at the peak of their fitness. And with this knowledge the female footballers might like to weigh up the pros and cons of changing the kit they wear to hit the park, depending on the impression they want to create.


Meantime, where did I leave my trainers…



Tweet
!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];if(!d.getElementById(id)){js=d.createElement(s);js.id=id;js.src=”//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js”;fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js,fjs);}}(document,”script”,”twitter-wjs”);