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    USWNT's Megan Rapinoe testifies to Congress on fight for equal pay – video

    Megan Rapinoe has taken her fight for equal pay to Congress as she testified on Wednesday in front of a committee examining ‘the economic harm caused by longstanding gender inequalities, particularly for women of colour’. Rapinoe said she did not understand why pay inequality was still a problem in US Soccer, despite the USWNT’s success. ‘I feel like honestly we’ve done everything,’ she said.
    During her testimony, Rapinoe added that she supported the rights of trans athletes. The midfielder also addressed the outcry at the NCAA tournament last week after photos showed the far inferior gym equipment provided to female players compared to their male counterparts

    ‘You want full stadiums? We filled them’: Rapinoe testifies to Congress on equal pay More

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    'You want full stadiums? We filled them': Rapinoe testifies to Congress on equal pay

    Megan Rapinoe has taken her fight for equal pay to Congress as she testified on Wednesday in front of a committee examining “the economic harm caused by longstanding gender inequalities, particularly for women of color”.The Olympic and World Cup champion testified at a hearing by the House Committee on Oversight and Reform. In her opening statement, the soccer star told the committee that: “I am here today because I know firsthand that this is true. We are told in this country that if you just work hard and continue to achieve – you will be rewarded, fairly. It’s the promise of the American dream. But that promise has not been for everyone.“The United States women’s national team has won four World Cup championships and four Olympic gold medals on behalf of our country. We have filled stadiums, broken viewing records, and sold out jerseys, all popular metrics by which we are judged.“Yet despite all of this, we are still paid less than men – for each trophy, of which there are many, each win, each tie, each time we play. Less.”Rapinoe said she did not understand why pay inequality was still a problem in US Soccer, despite the USWNT’s success. “I feel like honestly we’ve done everything,” she said. “You want stadiums filled? We filled them. You want role models for your kids, for your boys, and your girls, and your little trans kids? We have that. You want us to be respectful? You want us to perform on the world stage?…”In December, the USWNT reached an agreement with the US Soccer Federation over equal work conditions with their male counterparts. The players were seeking the same conditions as the US men’s team in areas such as travel, hotel accommodation, the right to play on grass rather than artificial turf, and staffing. However, the USWNT still do not have equal pay with the men’s team after a federal judge surprisingly threw out their case in May 2020. The team have appealed the decision and are seeking millions of dollars in backpay from US Soccer.Last week, there was outcry at the NCAA tournament, the crown jewel of US college basketball, after photos showed the far inferior gym equipment provided to female players compared to their male counterparts. Rapinoe touched on the subject during Wednesday’s hearings.“With the lack of proper investment we don’t know the real potential of women’s sports,” she said. “What we know is how successful women’s sports have been in the face of discrimination, in the face of a lack of investment in every level in comparison to men.”The midfielder also said she supported the rights of trans athletes. Dozens of bills in the US seek to ban trans athletes from certain youth sports. “As a member of the LGBTQ community I firmly stand with the trans family,” said Rapinoe. “As someone who has played sports with someone who is trans I can assure you all is well. Nothing is spontaneously combusting.”Rapinoe visited the White House later on Wednesday for an event with Joe and Jill Biden marking Equal Pay Day. More

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    Donald Trump wanted a fight with athletes. They may well have doomed him

    Sports and politics have always existed at a very public intersection in American life, but never was the illusory firewall keeping them apart more nakedly exposed than over the past four years. Donald Trump’s political alchemy has always relied on his uncanny skill at leveraging the fault lines that divide us. It’s proven an essential tactic for someone who managed to capture the Republican presidential nomination despite failing to win a majority in the first 40 primaries and caucuses, who won the White House despite losing the popular vote by nearly three million ballots and whose overall approval ratings have never cracked a majority throughout his term.
    From the earliest days of his administration Trump has found fertile ground in taking this fight to America’s last unifying arena: co-opting US sports as not merely a proxy battle in the culture wars that reflect a country’s deep divides, but the primary theatre. He’s always recognized sports as an inextricable stripe of the American experience: from owning a team in the upstart United States Football League in the early 1980s to hosting a series of major prizefights at his casino in Atlantic City before it went bankrupt, most notably the 1988 blockbuster between Mike Tyson and Michael Spinks, for which he paid a then-record $11m site fee. It’s these roots in boxing promotion, where misdirection and the manifold arts of emotional manipulation are the stock-in-trade, that served him particularly well during his stunning ascent to the White House. But it wasn’t until a rally in Alabama nine months into his presidency that he first seized on what became his favorite fountainhead of easy political points.
    His sensational broadside on Colin Kaepernick was only the start. Before long Trump was jousting with NBA stars Stephen Curry and LeBron James over his decision to rescind the Golden State Warriors’ unaccepted invitation for the White House visit traditionally extended to championship-winning teams (eliciting the all-time burn from LeBron of “U bum”). He picked a fight with Megan Rapinoe, a proudly gay athlete with a taste for battle whose outspoken political views have made her a lightning rod for conservatives. He launched a baseless attack on Bubba Wallace over an incident this summer in which a noose was found in the team garage of Nascar’s only black driver. When then-ESPN correspondent Jemele Hill tweeted that Trump was “a white supremacist who has largely surrounded himself w/ other white supremacists”, Trump clapped back first through the White House press secretary, who declared the comments “a fireable offense”, then doubled down with a name-check on Twitter pegged to Hill’s two-week suspension from the network.
    For the first few years it was a cost-free enterprise. The targeted demonization of these so-called elites, almost exclusively from minority or otherwise marginalized communities, was red meat for his base: a white guy talking tough in a country where white guys talking tough is still for many seen as something to be impressed by. It played to our worst instincts and our lowest common denominator. Depressingly, it was good politics.
    But a funny thing happened on the way to a re-election that for years felt like a fait accompli given the historical power of the incumbency. With the sports world at a standstill due to the coronavirus pandemic and amid nationwide unrest over the police killings of George Floyd in Minneapolis and Breonna Taylor in Louisville, the calculus changed. A strategy dependent on the highly instinctive command of thin margins began to tilt against its conductor. The accumulation of the president’s incessant counter-punching led to organization among professional athletes that not only drew attention to social and racial injustice – remember: Kaepernick only wanted to start a conversation – but brought about a high-water point of athlete activism not seen since the 1960s, when champions such as Muhammad Ali, Jim Brown and Kareem Abdul‑Jabbar risked their livelihoods to stand on the frontline of the civil rights movement.
    In June, Roger Goodell, the NFL commissioner who three years ago gifted Trump a decisive optical victory when he unveiled a policy requiring every player, coach, trainer, ballboy, referee and executive to stand for the national anthem or face punishment, admitted the decision was wrong in a stunning about-face that was seen as a snub of the US president. Goodell’s mea culpa directly followed a video challenge to the league from some of the NFL’s biggest stars – including Patrick Mahomes, Deshaun Watson and Odell Beckham – who spoke powerfully about the omnipresence of systemic racism against black Americans. More

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    Athletes and the US election: How a generation of stars got in the game

    They put in the long hours, did all the heavy lifting, prepared like never before – and all in anticipation for the biggest contest of the year: The one on 3 November.
    That day, election day, is now less than a week away. Already, votes have been cast by a record 66 million-plus Americans, an astonishing draw that once seemed unfathomable during a pandemic. And while much of that sense of urgency stems from the 2020 presidential race – truly a life or death vote, in light of the ravages of Covid – the sense of purpose was shaped in no small part by the activism in sports. “Because of everything that’s going on, people are finally starting to listen to us,” LeBron James told the New York Times in June. “We feel like we’re finally getting a foot in the door.”
    The big push started in March, with people the world over breaking quarantine to protest systemic anti-black racism in the wake of George Floyd’s unlawful killing in May at the hands of Minneapolis police. Meanwhile, scores of idle dribblers wondered if an on-court comeback might steal focus. In the end they did return but with assurances that social justice would become more centered in the overall spectacle. Hence how Black Lives Matter landed on NBA and WNBA courts and jerseys, and voter registration became the focus of recurring league PSAs. And when protests erupted again after Kenosha police shot Jacob Blake within an inch of his life three months later and the Milwaukee Bucks walked off of a play-off game and triggered a two-day sports blackout, one of the biggest concessions they won from their NBA partners was a pledge to convert some 20-odd league arenas into polling places in response to Donald Trump’s attempts to suppress and undermine in-person and mail-in balloting.
    Last Saturday, on the first ever day of early voting in New York state, thousands of masked Manhattanites wrapped the streets and avenues around Madison Square Garden, with some waiting as long as five hours to cast their ballots. The scene was similar, if a bit more brisk, at the Golden 1 Center in Sacramento and at the Spectrum Center in Charlotte. That a team owned by someone as famously apolitical as Michael Jordan could have a hand in this historic election turnout is a welcome twist.
    The kicker: he’s also written $2.5m-worth of checks to fight black voter suppression as part of a 10-year, $100m pledge to beat systemic racism – the clearest indicator yet of his evolution away from the neutral pitchman who hawked so many sneakers and colors of Gatorade in the ‘90s. “We understand that one of the main ways we can change systemic racism is at the polls,” he said in a July statement. “We know it will take time for us to create the change we want to see, but we are working quickly to take action for the Black Community’s voice to be heard.”
    Still, you wonder if Jordan would’ve ever had such courage in his newfound convictions if James wasn’t giving as good as he gets from his critic-in-chief in the Oval Office in between weighing in on social justice issues in real time. As he was leading the Lakers to an NBA championship, he was huddling with a group of prominent athletes and entertainers to launch More Than a Vote, an organization aimed at informing, protecting and turning out Black voters.
    When it comes to more acute impact, however, James and co have nothing on his female counterparts. When one of its owners, Kelly Loeffler, the junior Republican US senator from Georgia who owns half of the WNBA’s Atlanta Dream, took to the airwaves this past summer to disparage Black Lives Matter and the league for dedicating its season to the movement, players from her team and the opposing Phoenix Mercury took to the court before a nationally televised game in black T-shirts endorsing her Democratic opponent Raphael Warnock, leader of the Atlanta Baptist church where Martin Luther King once pastored.
    The shirts quickly came into vogue league-wide. Within two days, Warnock’s campaign announced a $183,000 fundraising windfall – which helped launch a TV ad onslaught. In the last month Warnock has gone from polling slightly ahead of Loeffler at 31% to above 50% – which is right where he would have to be to avoid a January runoff. “It was one of many turning points in the campaign,” Warnock told USA Today Sports of the WNBA players’ endorsement. Nneka Ogwumike, the Los Angeles Sparks MVP forward and Player Association president, called it something else: “My favorite moment of the summer.”
    That a group of athletes could be as persuasive in the political arena as they are commercially shouldn’t come as a surprise. Researchers at Wake Forest University launched a study into this very phenomenon this year and have already found the impact on political views of local and national matters to be significant, citing Colin Kaepernick’s hard-fought success in moving the needle on police reform as one example. “They’re influencing people to watch them,” said Betina Wilkinson, an associate professor of political science on the study. “They’re influencing people to buy the products that they’re selling, but then also now they have the ability to influence people’s views on issues regarding race such as immigration and criminal justice reform.” Meanwhile, the majority of respondents to a recent Politico study said Kaepernick’s activism inspired them to vote in a local, state or national election – and that’s with Kaepernick saying he didn’t vote in the 2016 election.
    Gone are the days when an athlete’s impact on the democratic process was mostly incidental. You remember those “studies”: the gubernatorial race that was actually decided by a college football upset. The presidential election that was foretold by the “Redskin Rule”. Or the Super Bowl result. Or the Bears-Colts game.
    These days, you’d be hard-pressed to turn on an NFL game without the Texans’ Deshaun Watson, Saints’ Cam Jordan and Seahawks coach Pete Carroll belittling the fact that only 60% of Americans voted in the 2016 presidential election as they encourage you to register to vote. For a league that oozes conservatism and genuflected to the president, whose demented causes aren’t helped by high voter turnout, this may as well be the equivalent of dumping tea into Boston Harbor. Even college football plays against type. Just last month, the NCAA’s Division I Council called for a blackout on practices and games on election day. All the while, athletic departments from Cal State LA to Yale have held registration drives with the goal of signing up all of their eligible athletes.
    Clearly, we are now well past the era of athletes voting their bank accounts. Turns out, the money only goes so far. It didn’t spare them the inconvenience of being black or gay in America or otherwise labeled as different. So it figures that when their backs were against the wall, they banded closer together and found a collective resolve. That their impact can already be felt this far away from election day goes to show the hold athletes had on us all along. What’s more, that handle can only get tighter with more practice and progress in the years ahead. More