Danica Patrick Feminism

By Taru Taylor

Sports figures sometimes transcend sport. Think Jackie Robinson, a civil rights icon second only to Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. thanks to his integration into Major League Baseball in 1947.

Danica Patrick's victory at the Japan 300 last Sunday, her first, as well as motorcar racing's first ever for a woman, has thrust her beyond sports into the realm of social justice.

But what makes her a poster-girl of modern feminism is not this year's Japan 300. She earned her street cred as a feminist icon earlier this year, when the Indy Racing League actually changed a rule in order to handicap her.

Danica Patrick of Andretti Green Racing shows off her trophy after winning the Indy Japan 300 auto race at Twin Ring Motegi in northeast Tokyo, April 20. The American became the first female winner in IndyCar history, taking the Indy Japan 300 after the top contenders were forced to pit for fuel in the final laps. / AP-Yonhap

That rule-change evokes the fear that she has struck in the gasoline-driven testosterone world of motorcar racing ever since her fourth-place finish at the Indianapolis 500 in 2005.

The petite beauty is as physically imposing to her sport as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, nee Lew Alcindor, was to college basketball 40 years ago. The 7-foot-2-inch (218 cm) center had inspired the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) to outlaw dunking lest he overpower the opposition.

Unfazed, he developed his patented skyhook, the prettiest shot the game has yet seen. The rule-change that was meant to handicap him made him better. As a finesse game, basketball, after all, prizes skill and speed over strength and power.

Abdul-Jabbar exemplifies a sports axiom, that the greatest sportsman is so dominant that he inspires a rule-change. Think of the many golf courses lengthened, to whit ``Tiger-proofed,'' in order to curtail Tiger Woods' dominance off the tee.

To cite another example, pitchers dominated hitters during the 1960s, so Major League Baseball lowered the pitcher's mound from 15 inches (38.1 cm) to 10 inches (25.4 cm). The extent to which it is axiomatic ― that the greatest sportsmen inspire rule-changes ― is the extent to which Danica Patrick is the greatest sportsperson of motorcar racing today.

The Indy Racing League's new rule is that the minimum weight of cars has to now include the driver. They didn't give an official reason for the ``Danica rule.''

But since her fourth-place finish at the Indianapolis 500 in 2005, male drivers, namely Robby Gordon, have bitterly complained about her ``unfair'' advantage. Her 5-foot-2-inch (157 cm), 100-pound (45 kg), frame has intimidated them, as much as Kareem's had opposing teams.

Her male rivals have even estimated that her small size, over the course of a race, yields a 1 mph (1.6 kph) advantage. They waxed hysterical over her lightness of being and she hadn't even won a race yet!

The beauty of Danica Patrick feminism is that it ironically subverts the cliche, of boys handicapping themselves to give the girls a chance. Throw an underhand softball at the girl; a headhunting fastball at the boy.

Play ultimate frisbee with the girls; body armor football with the boys. But the boys of motorcar racing got it backwards. They flipped the gentlemanly script. They handicapped the girl to give themselves a chance. Danica Patrick, a girl playing with boys, must have seen IRL's rule-change as through a ``looking-glass.''

Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary defines ``feminism'' as ``the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes." The key word, of course, is ``equality." Feminism normally rectifies the inferior status of womankind as opposed to ``male chauvinism.''

The irony of Danica Patrick feminism thickens when we consider that the IRL, by handicapping her with the rule-change last month, acknowledged her superiority.

Since IRL thereby equalized her and the men, one could argue that the organization, insofar as feminism is about equality, are the feminists; that their handicapping of her was ``affirmative action'' for the men; that they are the feminists who rectified her superiority to a male inferiority complex.

Prohibition against dunking made Kareem a better player. Less than a month after the ``Danica rule,'' she finally won. The handicap, apparently, has made her better. Her fuel-economy strategy at the Japan 300 was vintage Sun Tzu: ``The skillful warrior of old won easy victories. The victories of the skillful warrior are not extraordinary. They bring neither fame for wisdom, nor merit for valor. They are flawless because they are inevitable. He vanquishes an already defeated enemy.''

From eighth place on the 189th lap, she vanquished her opponents when they stopped in the pits for fuel. That left Helio Castraneves, who she passed in the 198th lap of the 200-lap race and beat by 5.8594 seconds behind. True to ``The Art of War,'' she made it look easy.

Feminism is about equality. But Danica Patrick is ``more equal" than the men of her field. Feminism is about female victimhood. But Danica Patrick has victimized the male car-racing ego. Does she symbolize an ironical feminism? Or does she foreshadow the Nietzschean superwoman?

The writer teaches English at Semyung University in Jecheon, North Chungcheong Province. He can be reached at tarutaylor@gmail.com.