What would you do if someone hit you and spit in your face and lunged at you in an elevator? If you’re like most people, male or female, you’d do something to protect yourself—either pushing them away in a defensive posture, or defending through the time-honored method of counterattack. Ray Rice chose the latter, but failed to calibrate his counterattack to account for the weakness of his foe, perhaps because of drunkenness, maybe just for rage.
Like the military behemoth Israel destroyed whole city blocks in Gaza each time a dozen or so rockets fired from there landed harmlessly in the desert, Ray Rice, who is a bristling two hundred pounds of muscled-up NFL running back, coldcocked his fiancé (now wife) to the floor when she spat in his face and lunged at him. She couldn’t have ever done, without a weapon to equalize things, any sort of actual physical harm to Ray, just like Gaza without a nuclear weapon is not much more than a thorn in Israel’s side. Ray and Israel were rightly castigated for having used force well in excess of that required to send the message that such behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. But nobody would ever suggest that Israel should sit idly by while rockets are flung across the sky, admittedly on a weak prayer that they might hit something more than cactus, but still. And Ray Rice should not have been fired from his job and rendered a public pariah for having done, if a bit excessively, what anyone would have done in the premises. He was defending himself. Watch the video. It’s clear he was provoked.
The NFL and Rice’s employer, the Baltimore Ravens, effectively delivered a gut punch to Janay Rice to go along with Ray’s punch, and the subsequent smack on the elevator’s railing that rendered her unconscious, when they fired and suspended him. How is this going to help things for the Rice’s? If you think there might have been some fighting before, just wait until Ray’s checks quit coming.
It is high time the NFL quit kowtowing to women’s organizations, allowing them to do just like an angry wife might, extorting the behaviors they seek through terror campaigns. Here’s a little secret the National Football League needs to internalize: There will never be any appeasing the National Organization for Women, or the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, or any other of the myriad organizations that uber-social females quite naturally contrive as vehicles for complaining about men. Football is a man’s sport, played by men, which is why men and non-feminists love it and feminist agitators loathe it. No matter what the NFL does, so long as it remains essentially the same sport that involves blocking and tackling and hitting, i.e., so long as it remains a sport that mimics the violence of hand to hand combat, the feminists will hate it because it involves things that, in their inability to compete, they necessarily hate, and demand that the world follows suit.
Guys generally understand individually, or at least married guys do, what seems so baffling to the NFL—that in the relentless dialectic that constitutes a male-female relationship, there is nothing a woman won’t do to assert her power and control over her man. But while the male-female relationship is a constant power struggle, it is one where if the woman wins, both sides lose. Men must fight back. They must hold their women at bay. Because, if a woman ever feels she has finally gained dominion and control over her man, she will quickly grow bored and seek another man to similarly subdue. Women are incapable of happiness. Likewise, female advocate organizations won’t stop until all power has been ceded to them or the women they ostensibly represent. Of course, they still wouldn’t be satisfied then, and would undoubtedly turn the dialectic inward, pitting women against each other, because contentedness is not a female attribute. But the point is that there is no way the NFL can appease these organizations, except by destroying itself, at which point both sides lose.
The league let women into the door of appeasement with observing breast cancer awareness month in October, complete with pink towels, shoes, gloves, hats, etc. Did they really believe that would suffice to stop the females from braying incessantly about the league’s violence? Did they really believe that feigning interest in the health issues concerning women’s breasts was really going to get them off the hook for providing so many men a mostly harmless outlet for expressing all those visceral attributes that arise from having a surfeit of testosterone? Women are only happy when their men are miserable, so the NFL, which helps make men a little less miserable than they might otherwise be in a society intent on filing their sharp edges down to dullness, is at cross purposes with female desires. The happier the NFL makes a man on Sunday or Monday or Thursday, the more work is left to the woman to bring him back to the level of misery she thinks is acceptable for his being allowed to be a part of her world.
Men understand this perfectly, which is why they howl derisively every time the NFL caves to female demands to feminize the game (if usually out of earshot of the females in their lives). And if the NFL becomes too glamourized, or too pussified, then men will leave it to the women, and go find some other entertainment that expresses and embodies the violence and aggression and athletic ability that sets men apart from women, attributes they love to express or see displayed, but aren’t often afforded the opportunity in the strait jackets of feminized culture in which they must exist.
The male-female dialectic is a one-way thing in many respects. Women are desperately at war with men, while men are decidedly less combative, usually laconic and lackadaisical about the whole thing. It’s not because men believe they have all the power and aren’t threatened by the women. It’s that they know the women who believe they need to openly wage war are fools who don’t understand the power they have. Men innately know that women hold the reins of power in any male-female sexual relationship. It comes with having a womb. But men understand that women can’t be allowed to run roughshod over the family or their relationship, or them, just because they happen to have a womb, and they understand that it is their job to see it doesn’t happen. In other words, men get that God doesn’t pay them to lose the dialectic with women, because everyone loses when that happens.
Maybe that’s what Ray was thinking when he gobsmacked Janay that night in the elevator. Or, maybe he was just really pissed that she thought she could get away with doing to him what he’d never allow any man to get away with. We’ll never really know, because only the people in a relationship really know what is going on in it. But I think anyone who is honest will admit that what Janay did that night demanded a response. Even Janay admitted as much. Just perhaps not quite as forcefully as Ray administered it. And the NFL did nothing but make matters worse, as I am sure, both the Rice’s would attest.