SPORTS:Women’s evolution of attention

In hindsight, no one doubts that the passage of the Patsy T. Mink Equal Opportunity in Education Act — better known as Title IX — was necessary.

Change in women’s sports has not come quickly or easily, but it’s happened. There’s at least two generations of girls who have grown up playing sports, and continued playing into their high school and college years with no trouble.

These days, it’s difficult to imagine what it was like to have cheerleading as the only athletic option in high school, the way Newport Harbor High strength and conditioning coach Stephanie Ciarelli did.

Ciarelli graduated in 1972, just as the women’s sports equality wave was hitting. Title IX just celebrated its 35th anniversary last month. But, there was only the Girls’ Athletic Assn., which was the girls’ intramural athletics organization.

There were no designated girls’ teams. No official jerseys. No official coaches. Maybe a volunteer here or there. But that was it.

And when Billie Jean King started playing, nobody really wanted to take women’s sports seriously. The equal rights advocate spoke at a press conference before a Newport Beach Breakers game last week.

“In my day, we would not have this press conference,” King said. “This is a big deal. Every time I come to a press conference I know it’s a privilege. Without the media, no one knows what you think, what you feel, or what you look like. I think [athletes] need to understand why it’s important to talk and exchange discussion with the media. I think it’s vital. Access to the media is what makes your sport popular.”

King was right, hearkening back to a time when women’s sports couldn’t pay anyone for coverage, let alone charge for broadcasting rights.

King’s credibility as a female athlete didn’t hit the mainstream until she beat Bobby Riggs in the legendary 1973 Battle of the Sexes. But the tables have turned. Not completely, but significantly.

Shockingly, the Assn. of Volleyball Professionals tour didn’t include women until 1999.

And now?

The women’s title match at Long Beach July 22 drew a packed crowd that included at least one bona fide Hollywood star (Adrian Grenier). There wasn’t a free piece of real estate to be had in those bleachers.

The men’s match? Not so much. There was still a sizable crowd, but patches of empty bleachers could not be ignored.

But now there’s a newer, stickier battle to be fought in women’s sports, and it’s not about how much attention it gets. It’s about what kind.

Sure, women today can enjoy success and celebrity in sports, and that’s great. But of course, in the modern world of television and the Internet, outrageous numbers on a stat sheet are never enough.

A pretty face is a mandatory ingredient, too.

It’s fine when female athletes decide to take their sexuality into their own hands; they’re adults. Indy Racing League star Danica Patrick has famously defended her right to use her looks to promote herself, arguing that no one makes such a big fuss when Carl Edwards disrobes (Edwards was featured shirtless on the cover of ESPN the Magazine).

Of course, the point that escapes Patrick is that Edwards’ looks aren’t inextricably linked to his success and likeability as an athlete.

Tony Stewart is no looker, but he enjoys the perks of having a huge and loyal fan base. It really doesn’t matter how much he rails against NASCAR or the fact that he went 19 races without a win this season until claiming back-to-back victories at Chicagoland and the Brickyard, or that his personality is about as warm and fuzzy as a sea urchin.

But replace him with a woman with the exact same race record, penchant for boorishness, and a similar “hot or not” rating as Stewart, and sponsors would be uncomfortably inching away while trying to think of a politically correct exit strategy. It’s about this time that advertisers start to worship the face-saver that is Photoshop.

This has become the accepted way of life for modern female athletes. They’re talented, they make it, they win Olympic medals and championship trophies, and then, when someone notices they’re “hot,” their popularity explodes.

There’s a laundry list of women who fit the bill: Patrick, Gretchen Bleiler, Amanda Beard, Jennie Finch, Amy Acuff, and the latest, Allison Stokke.

They all compete in what are considered niche sports. Loyal fans who are committed to snowboarding, or swimming, or softball, or high jumping already know these athletes and what they can do in a halfpipe or a racecar.

But these women don’t hit the mainstream until they choose to be pictured half-naked in Maxim, or Stuff, or Playboy, or Esquire, or some other publication with a largely male readership.

And for a while, I thought, well, it’s their choice. That’s the way of the world.

That was until Allison Stokke happened. Or rather, until what happened to Allison Stokke happened.

After she became a huge Internet popularity queen in just a couple of weeks, because of a few innocuous competition photographs, Stokke wanted the celebrity she’d attained to just go away.

After all, she hadn’t been seeking it. This newfound stardom had found her, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she won the CIF state pole vaulting title as a high school freshman. But when The Washington Post and FOX News came calling, it became apparent that Stokke couldn’t fade quietly into the night.

All the same, she became withdrawn. After a fourth-place finish at the CIF state final this year, Stokke had a very human, very normal, teenage girl reaction. She went into the bathroom to collect herself, and she was dreading coming out and having to talk to anyone.

But Stokke welcomed the Pilot, once again, to tell her story. And when she spoke, it was evident that Stokke’s opinion of her situation was not the only thing that had changed.

A calm, mature, authoritative and happy Stokke has embraced, albeit reluctantly, her somewhat-high profile.

“I don’t want it to be superficial,” she said. “I don’t want to be the sex symbol of pole vaulting. I want to be the one that’s good, and have the whole package, if anything.”

Stokke didn’t have the luxury of choice about when or how her countenance would be used. She lost all autonomy before it even occurred to her that her looks afforded her any, and she was forced to adapt to that reality.

Still, Stokke, who will vault for UC Berkeley, finds the humor in her circumstances. On a recent family cruise in the Mediterranean, a man from Australia recognized her, and a California frat boy.

“There’s weird ones,” Stokke said laughing. “A guy came up to me, and he was like, ‘you’re that pole vaulter girl, aren’t you? Me and my frat watch your video every night.’”

Stokke’s regained some control; she said she’s gotten undisclosed endorsement offers, though she can’t accept them as long as she’s an NCAA athlete.

It will be shameful if the future of women’s sports continues down the path Stokke was pushed into following, where attractive girls, far from real adulthood, are coerced into the spotlight long before they are ready for it because the public assumes it has the right to ogle.

If judging female athletes on their looks — an already deplorable practice — is here to stay, then it should remain the way it was, ante-Stokke. The athletes, not anyone else, decide when and how they’ll be judged.

“Women want their accomplishments to be talked about, not just their looks,” King said. “We’re just like the guys, in a way. We want our accomplishments to be stated.”

SORAYA NADIA McDONALD may be reached at (714) 966-4613 or at soraya.mcdonald@latimes.com.