By winning an Olympic gold medal in swimming as a high school student, Lydia Jacoby rocketed herself to the planet of Alaska Women Sports Gods.
Libby Riddles lives there. So does Kikkan Randall. But if recent history is any measure, the place could get crowded soon. Since the 1972 passage of Title IX, federal legislation that gave young women the same opportunity at sports as young men, the X chromosome has been crushing it.
Consider that Genny Szymanski of Haines swam at the Olympic trials in 2008, an achievement no other local athlete has surpassed.
Genny and Lydia are part of a national trend. At this summer’s Olympic Games, U.S. women won 66 of the nation’s 113 medals, or 58.4 percent. A chart of performances since women were allowed to compete in the Olympics in 1900 shows a steady curve upward. U.S. women tied with U.S. men in medals in 2008 and have topped them in the medal count ever since.
These figures aren’t only good for women and the cause of equal rights, they’re good for spectator sports because women athletes are just plain more interesting to watch. They emote, and license to express emotion is a big part of the reason we watch sports.
Also, women tend to embrace sportsmanship, so their ascendance can only improve sports.
When the 17-year-old high school girl from Seward topped the best swimmers in the world, second-place finisher Tatyana Schoenmaker of South Africa jumped on her immediately with a giant smile and embrace that could not be faked. Schoenmaker’s display of affection was nearly as moving as Jacoby’s victory.
Women athletes seem to better understand that competing at a championship level is a treasure only a half-step down from actually winning, and that a champion’s joy should be shared instead of coveted.
Those lessons are critical to the future of sport as a form of human progress. Women can’t teach this lesson to their brother athletes soon enough. The defeated celebrating the victor is not akin to surrender or accepting a participation trophy. It’s a tribute to the victor’s humanity, to a fair contest, to a race well run. It’s everything we should be promoting in sports, and in life.
Jacoby is a great ambassador for Alaska women in sports. She a musician who plays three instruments and sings in a band. She’s a writer who has penned articles for newspapers and expresses interest in journalism. She’s planning to pursue a career in fashion, to major at college in textile and apparel design.
If you went out to find a balanced role model for young, Alaska women athletes, it’s unlikely you’d find one better than Jacoby. In that role, she’ll be a successor to Riddles who was also an unknown when she mushed into a midnight blizzard to grab the first Iditarod title for women in March 1985.
Those who said Riddles’ victory was a fluke were silenced by the legendary Susan Butcher, who followed in Libby’s footsteps and won the “Toughest Race on Earth” four times.
As Jacoby became the first Alaskan to win an Olympic medal swimming, Randall was the first of two Americans to ever win an Olympic gold medal in cross-country skiing, notching that feat with teammate Jessie Diggins in Pyeongchang in 2018.
Randall was 35 before she struck Olympic gold. Her career of achievement is as impressive as was Jacoby’s surprise victory. Randall won 17 national titles, stood on 29 podiums at World Cup competitions and was the first American woman to win any medal at the Nordic World Ski Championships.
If Jacoby’s win is testimony to serendipity, youth and strength, Randall’s was proof of perseverance, hard work and tenacity.
But both earned their Olympic garlands and both bring hope and inspiration to a younger generation of Alaskan women athletes who will one day surpass them in strength and speed. For that, we should be grateful.