At long last there is a sport in which men and women can compete as equals, and it's probably not what you'd expect. Co-ed field hockey, that incorrigible off-spring of a Harvard-Radcliffe marriage, has become more and more popular each year, because apart from the sheer joy of tearing about a grass field flailing a wooden stick in the air, it provides a rare instance of mutual participation and cooperation uncomplicated an unaffected by gender.

Unique

Co-ed field hockey works because of its unique social origins; the size, speed and strength advantages men possess, factors that normally weight any athletic contest between the sexes heavily toward men, are aptly compensated for by women's game experience and stick-handling skills. The majority of women who play house hockey have played at least one year in high school, often four. For most men, house intramurals are their first exposure to field hockey, and while high school seasons of soccer and ice hockey help them pied up the game quickly, they have not yet closed the gap in skill advantages.

Field hockey's intramural cousin, co-ed football, hasn't been as successful, primarily because both the physical advantages and the experience are on the men's side. Many women complain that they play no real part in a game, and are included merely to meet the female quota required for each match. One anonymous woman from Quincy House recalls a co-ed football game earlier this year: "Of the three women on our team, not once did any of us get to throw the ball, carry the ball, or catch a pass. Not one of us was even thrown a pass." The reluctance to involve women on each play may be understandable in light of their lack of experience, but it is certainly not justifiable, and misses the whole point of co-ed sports.

Mutual Admiration Society

When men and women are placed together on an equal basis, it is common for a mutual admiration to develop. "No one says 'she's good for a woman' or 'he's good for a man,' they say 'Damn, there's a good hockey player!" says former Junior Varsity player Willa Brown, now right inner for Quincy House.

Mark O'Leary '81 puts it another way: "It's a hell of fun, one of the few things here that's competitive without being competitive. It also gives me a chance to go nuts."

Madness

If you haven't sampled this offering of co-ed insanity yet, you should treat hourself to a game or two. All that's needed is a pair of sneakers and two good lungs. You might find yourself becoming one of the game's fanatics, like the guy who drove up from Albany (yeah, 3 1/2 hours away), class of '79, to play for his old house, streaked down the field for a breakaway goal or two, hopped back into his old blue cutlass after the game and rode off into the sunset with a victor's smile on his lips...

There's also an aesthetic appeal to the game, as one female player who refused to identify herself exclaimed, "It's always nice to check out their legs."