Henrietta Hay's Column

A female buffalo is a cow. I have no problem with buffaloes or with cows, but I do have a problem with calling the women from Colorado University who beat Stanford in a recent basketball game "Lady Buffs." I often get indignant about things which are not of earth-shaking importance. So here goes my annual protest against calling those strong, talented, skillful women athletes "Lady Buffs." They are basketball players. They are Buffs.

In my nightly flip through the TV channels recently I came upon the second half of the west regional semifinal game of the NCAA women's tournament between C. U. and Stanford. Two nights later the Buffaloes lost to the Raiders from Texas Tech, but that Stanford game was one for the history books. I can't believe how silly I felt at 10:30 at night leaping off the couch, raising my fist in the air and shouting "Yes" when C. U. dropped a three pointer and went ahead for the first time.

That game was not played by "ladies." It was played by grown women battling for every point with the sweat running off them, strands of hair escaping their pony tails, fatigue showing on their faces. Nobody but the coaches and players from C. U. thought they had a chance to take the defending champs, but those Buffs beat Stanford in a real cliffhanger.

As one of the oldest living members of the University of Colorado "C" Club I have a proprietary interest in this women's team. My letter was in tennis, but I played a lot of basketball, intramural, of course. The game we played would not be recognizable by today's women. In order to protect us from fatigue, over-stimulation or what they euphemistically called "the vapors", the court was divided into three sections. I was a center and could not move out of the middle third.

This pet peeve of mine about the names of women's teams is beginning to be heard elsewhere. When Becky Hopf arrived at the University of Alabama sports department she wondered why the women's basketball team was called the Lady Tide (sounds a lot like laundry soap) when the men's teams were called the "Crimson Tide." Thanks to her, now the women also are the Crimson Tide. A lot of schools have followed suit, including U. S. C. with the Women of Troy. C. U. is still in the dark ages with the "Lady Buffs."

The patronizing custom of putting "Lady" in front of the team mascot names started when women were first included in intercollegiate athletics. It took a federal law, the Education Amendment's Title IX back in 1972 to force colleges to offer women's athletic programs and most schools did so grudgingly. At that time the women lacked experience and coaching and financing, and it was important to distance them from the men's teams. But those days are over. Women's collegiate sports have come of age. The women deserve to be called Buffs. Certainly we have to distinguish between the men's and women's teams, but when the game starts, it is fairly easy to determine which sex is playing without announcing it. Justice Sandra Day O'Connor is usually referred to as Justice O'Connor, not the Lady Judge. Senator Kassebaum is known as Senator Kassebaum rather than the Lady Senator. Women doctors are called Doctor, not Lady Doctor. But women athletes are still Lady Buffs.

Wayne Martin, writing for the Birmingham News complains that "It's hard for me to think of Georgia point guard Kelly Robbins as a lady when she puts on a uniform and plays flat out for 40 minutes. When the whistle blows she is a Bulldog -- a tenacious, fighting, scrapping Bulldog. Not a Lady Bulldog. . . Let's have ladies when the final horn sounds and the teams line up to congratulate one another. But when the whistle blows, let's have the Bulldogs and the Tigers. I think the ladies have earned it."

I agree that people who insist on Politically Correct language often go too far. It probably would not be acceptable this year to call C. U.'s men's basketball team the Gentlemen Buffs. But I agree with Mr. Martin. When the whistle blows let's have the Buffs and the Mavs and the Tigers. The women have earned it.