While awaiting word about a possible Monarchs relocation to the Bay Area, the hangover lingers. No more WNBA in Sacramento. I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it. I even grudgingly grasp the rationale – the slumping economy and the Kings having sucked the life out of the local franchise – and I still hate it.
For those who remember life before Title IX, who were booted out of gyms to make way for the boys, who were ridiculed for preferring sports to more conventional female activities, some things you don't forget.
The year (1997) the Monarchs arrived.
The night (Sept. 20, 2005) the Monarchs won the championship.
The characters, the subplots, the people who brought their stories and women's professional basketball to life in Arco Arena. Ruthie Bolton. Yolanda
Griffith. Ticha Penicheiro. Kara Lawson. Nicole Powell. Gentlemanly Sonny Allen and his weave. Maura McHugh and her colorful wardrobe. John Whisenant and his sublime sideline demeanor. The tears in Jerry Reynolds' eyes during the championship celebration; the sight, too, of an envious Mike Bibby watching, smiling, soaking it all in.
posted by Helen at 9:39 AM
