A Sideline Interview
This is sideline reporter Suzy Hightop. I’m here with
writer and Indiana native Cathy Day. Just a few minutes
until kickoff, and you can feel the anticipation in the air!
Cathy, this book is very different from your first book,
The Circus in Winter. What was going through your mind
when you decided to embark on your “comeback season.”
Suzy, what are you doing here?
[smiles into the camera] I’m interviewing you, of course.
But you’re a character, my imaginary friend. In Comeback Season, you ask prompting questions and sum up the plot-thus-far for the reader. You can’t just show up here, now.
Why not? C’mon, I’ve been really bored since you finished the book. You need the publicity, and I need something to do.
Okay. Fine. Fire away.
What made you decide to embark on your “comeback season”?
It was January 16, 2006, the day after the Colts lost to the Steelers in the playoffs, and I was forced to watch the game in Pittsburgh, surrounded by ecstatic black and gold. As if I wasn’t already feeling low. See, I liked this man, but he didn’t like me back. This happens to me a lot. Nine of my ex-boyfriends married the woman they met right after me.
Nine? You’ve got to be kidding.
I wish. I watched the team walk off that field and I thought, Isn’t it just like this stinking unfair life that the Colts have lost…again! And I’ve lost…again! I felt this deep sense of connection with the team, Peyton Manning especially. I equated my own personal low point with what had to be a low point for him. So, I asked myself: What would Peyton Manning do? I knew he’d get up the next morning and start again. And so I decided I’d just do the same thing—but with dating instead of football. I told myself Do your best. Every week. Just one season. See what happens.
So how does it feel right now? What did you learn?
I learned that NFL quarterbacks and American women have a lot in common. Until they get that ring on their finger, they’re considered failures.
That’s not true!
I didn’t say it was fair, but it is true. All season long, the media asked, “Can Peyton win the big one? What’s wrong with him that doesn’t have his Super Bowl ring?” And our culture does the same thing to the smart, single woman. We applaud her accomplishments, her pluck, but inside, we’re thinking, What’s wrong with her? She must be doing something—or not doing something—if she’s still alone.
In your game of love, what went wrong out there? Was it your offense or your defense?
See, this is what I’m talking about! I don’t think I did anything wrong. Do you remember that Sex and the City episode where Miranda goes speed dating?
Oh yeah! If she tells the truth, that she’s a lawyer, men lose interest. If she says she’s a stewardess, more men pick her.
Yeah. That sort of happened to me.
So why not lie and say you’re a real-estate agent or a high school teacher?
[Sigh] I think you can separate human beings into two distinct groups. The ones who think I should have done that, the ones who think it doesn’t matter if a woman lies in this kind of situation, and the ones who think it matters an awful, awful lot.
But Cathy, how do you know why men didn’t “pick” you?
You’re right. I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. It’s telling a man at Starbucks what I do, and a curtain falls over his expression. Ultimately, readers can make up their own minds, but here’s something to remember. Do you know what men fear most about online dating? Rejection. But do you know what women fear the most? Bodily harm.
So this book is just for women, right?
No, not exactly. It’s for smart, single women who are tired of being told they must not be trying hard enough. It’s for men who love sports books. [looks directly into camera] Fellas, I promise you won’t feel “unmanly” reading this. It’s for women who want to learn enough about football to impress their male partners or attract one. It’s for men who want to learn enough about feelings to impress their female partners or attract one. And of course, it’s for anyone from the great state of Indiana.
What’s the most important thing you learned?
When you’re over 30, courtship doesn’t “just happen” anymore. For men or for women. So many people—especially those who’ve been coupled up for a long time—think that love takes care of itself. But increasingly, finding a good partner requires effort, which feels unromantic and forced. It requires that you use both actual social networks—friends, family, co-workers—and virtual ones.
You mean online dating?
If you’re afraid of online dating, read my book. I take the reader for a ride into the weird world of postmodern dating. Please, learn from my mistakes. That’s why I wrote it. See, I knew lots of men and women were “out there.” Since 1970, the percentage of single American adults has increased from 28 percent to over 40 percent. Singles are a huge demographic, and a stigmatized one at that. There’s lot of money to be made by convincing singles they must get coupled up, and for this low, low price, we’ll tell you the secret!
I detect a note of sarcasm…
Oh yeah. I don’t know if anyone deserves to profit financially by promising to end someone else’s loneliness. Also, the singles industry offers poor customer service, and singles can’t be good watchdogs if they’re ashamed to be using the service in the first place. During my comeback season, I discovered a number of deceptive business practices, especially with regard to women consumers, many of whom fail to report this unfair treatment because of the shame (i.e. “desire for discretion”) they experience. I think the singles industry counts on this silence in order to make a profit.
But aren’t you trying to profit as well?
Look, I’m no relationship expert. I’m a fiction writer and a college professor. At 38, I went through a difficult but eye-opening experience. I didn’t have any other single women to talk to about it. Personally, I think it’s because they were all so traumatized from going through it themselves. Serious women writers weren’t writing about this subject—except journalistically. I needed a book to help me, but the only narrative forms I found were self-help, dating primers, and romantic comedies. So I wrote the book I needed, but didn’t exist yet.
Why do you think that is?
I know so many singles—smart, cool, non-crazy people—who will publicly say, “I’m fine with my life as it is,” but will privately confess to an overwhelming sense of loneliness. These people need to meet each other, but how can they if they’re ashamed to admit they’re lonely, if they’re not able to put themselves in a position to meet each other? Subscribing to an online dating service like Match.com is one way for these people to meet each other, but for me, that felt like looking for a needle in a haystack. You know what it reminded me of? That Saturday Night Live skit, “A Night at the Roxbury.” I work up my nerve to show up to the virtual singles bar, but Will Farrell and Chris Kattan show up, swarm me with their polyester pelvises, and I couldn’t see the smart, cool, non-crazy guys sitting at the bar.
Are you suggesting we bar the Will Farrells and Chris Kattans from the virtual singles bar? How can we do that?
You can’t. But maybe the smart, cool, non-crazy people out there can find a different place to meet and hang out. How about on Spaceface?
Cathy, what the heck is Spaceface?
It’s a word coined by a friend of mine to denote social networking sites like MySpace and Facebook. They’re absolutely free, they work almost exactly like Match.com, and they simulate the way people prefer to meet each other: organically around shared interests or through mutual friends. If I could get more people my age—the single and the coupled—to join, I don’t think we’d even need Match.com anymore. Become my friend on MySpace, or just spend some time lurking, checking things out. I’m also on Facebook, and I have a group there called “I’m Fan of Comeback Season.” Think of it as joining a virtual club, and when you show up, you’ll be surrounded by people you already have something in common with, something to talk about. There’s no pressure, no stigma.
But I don’t know anything about football.
You don’t have to know anything about football to read my book or talk to people about it.
This reminds me…why did you talk about your experience, a female experience, through the lens of football? Weren’t you worried about scaring off women readers?
Women account for 43% of NFL fans, you know. 93 million people watched Super Bowl XLI to see if Peyton Manning would finally get his Super Bowl ring. It was the third most watched television program of all time. You don’t get those numbers when only men are watching. Women represent the fastest-growing market for NFL sportswear, although I have a hard time understanding why any woman would want a fitted, pink jersey. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a pink Peyton Manning jersey.
So will women who prefer pink jerseys connect with your book? Or women who don’t know the first thing about football?
I’d say my book is “about” football to the same extent that Grey’s Anatomy is about the practice of medicine. Women don’t need to be afraid of footballs, and by the same token, men don’t need to be afraid of hearts.
What’s up with this? [Suzy fingers the blue band around Cathy’s wrist.] “Just one season.” Oh, I get it, you’re trying to do that Lance Armstrong LiveStrong thing, aren’t you?
Yeah, I guess. [Hands Suzy a band.]
So do I have to make a donation? By wearing this, am I showing solidarity with all the lonely people in this country? Or rooting for the Colts? What?
At first, I was going to order some mini-footballs, but then I thought, That’s dumb. Who needs a plastic football? Maybe the band, the book itself will inspire people to make a change in their life, to work really hard toward a specific goal—for just one season, for a finite length of time. One thing I learned is that resolutions work better with an Alpha and an Omega, a start and a finish. Vince Lombardi said that there are 150 plays in a football game, only a handful of which really make a difference, so you have to play with all your heart each play. But nobody, not even Bob Sanders, can play like that indefinitely. A football game is 60 minutes of intense trying, and a season is 16 of those games. And then you get to rest for awhile. It’s no wonder people give up on diets, exercise programs, and other lifestyle changes as soon as they get knocked around a little bit. If you tell yourself, I’m going to try as hard as I can for just one season, maybe by the end, you’ll have come a lot farther than if you’d embarked on the journey with no end in sight.
Okay, last question: What do you want to say to the men who are here, on your website, reading this, because they think you’re The One? Or the people who want to fix you up with their still-single brother, son, or friend?
Well, like I said before I’m out there. I’m Google-able. I’m on Spaceface. But I would urge people to read the Ravens chapter in my book first before contacting me. I would urge people who are here to fix me up to direct that energy closer to home. Help someone single whom you already know: a co-worker, a friend, a relative. If there’s one thing I learned, it’s that finding love takes teamwork. It would make me incredibly happy if the book helped to bring other people together somehow.
Well, that’s all the time we have today. Thanks for dropping by, Cathy, and good luck!
My pleasure, Suzy.