It feels wrong saying that--but, as a kid, the violence was always part of what attracted me. I remember when Steve Atwater reversed the Nigerian Nightmare. This was not merely a hit, but a moment that rose to myth among my friends. Kenny Easley, Joey Browner, and, of course, Ronnie Lott--these were our gods. We loved seeing Atwater lay out Okoye, in the same way we loved Tyson destroying fools before we could really get comfortable on mom's couch.The violence spoke to something about our lives, about how we wanted to go through the world, about how we saw ourselves in our most absurd fantasy. It also reflected something very real. Our world was violent, and learning to negotiate it was just something we did. Atwater seemed to not just negotiate it, but to conquer it, to wield it with a total lack of fear. There's a danger of making this a race/class thing. I don't want to do that, because I strongly suspect that plenty of white males, across the class spectrum, know exactly what I mean.
In a series of candid video interviews, women talk about self-image, self-judgement, and what it means to love their bodies