It's hard being a man.  We're easily threatened in many more ways that woman aren't.  Have you ever heard of "Little Woman Syndrome"?  Seen many advertisements targeting women when trying to sell products which prevent performance anxiety?

For me, and so many other dudes, it's hard to admit you enjoy certain things without risking the revocation of your imaginary "man card".  For years, due in part to a best-selling book, you couldn't find a man to admit he eats quiche.  Or one who suggests taking baths as a way of relaxation.

Thanks to years around the music business, I have a large (that is, very large, ladies) collection of compact discs.  And when I'm driving, it's not always the AC/DC, Van Halen or Metallica that's in my car player.  However, when I do demonstrate my music diversity and pop in a disc from Supertramp, Elton John or Bon Jovi, I'm typically driving that day with all my windows up to protect my perceived masculinity for passing commuters.

Then again, perhaps I wasn't being as macho as I once thought when cranking music from these bands up to 10, either.

So, like many guys, when it came to the WNBA I scoffed, dismissed and avoided it worse than a playmate does me at a Super Bowl party.  The women of the WNBA could never keep up on the court with any man, yet alone with their male counterparts in professional basketball.  Well, perhaps the latter is still true.

My introduction to a live WNBA game was while working in Chicago and it was because my radio co-host ("Sweet Baby Jane") was the entertainment hostess during the pregame, time out breaks and halftime activities.  And, to my surprise, I wasn't the only man in the crowd.

After further review, maybe I wasn't the only guy in attendance that night just to see Jane?

But it was in Atlanta when my mouth got me in trouble (this time with the WNBA, any ways). While on air to promote their franchises first-ever game two members of the Atlanta Dream, Ivory Latta and Chioma Nnamaka, sensed my pretentiousness and challenged me (and my traffic guy, Denzil) to a game of H-O-R-S-E.  If I won, I'd get to address the WNBA crowd and show highlights of my victory over their star players.  But if I lost, Ivory and Chioma decided, I'd have to perform a karaoke version of a song of their choice while dressed like "Jackie Moon".

I'll show them why guys are better, or so I thought, and showed up to the grudge match already dressed like the Will Farrell character.  If my shooting skills or "Y" chromosome wouldn't provide me an advantage, then my intimidating uniform would, or so I thought.

I thought wrong.

Here we were later singing the Sonny & Cher duet, "I Got You Babe".
Tomorrow night (10/4/09) the Indiana Fever continues their run at the 2009 WNBA championship hosting the Phoenix Mercury at Conseco Fieldhouse.

Me?  I'll be watching NFL football and then preparing for the 'Indy Sports Nation OT' weekly show.  But I'm rooting for Fever and am not embarrassed to say so either.

These girls can play.

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