#Jennifer frey detroit free press pro
Assigned to pro hockey, as Robin was, Lawrie recalled Robin welcoming her, making her feel at home by selflessly sharing all she knew about this team, all the time knowing she and Lawrie would tell New Yorkers about the Rangers ‘ games for competing newspapers. Then, I called Lawrie Mifflin, who’d been t he first woman hired to write sports by New York’s Daily News, a few years after Robin. She was lovely, and yet she was not going to be abused.” That morning, Lesley had said of Robin in the Globe: “When you’re the first, you know you’re doing it for everybody, and boy, she was the perfect role model. Lesley was the first woman The Boston Globe hired to write sports a few years after The New York Times hired Robin to be its first woman sportswriter. We just wanted to talk, tell stories, and laugh together to ease our collective pain. I was struck by how each of us had reached out to connect as we did before text and social media came between us.
Soon, Lesley Visser called me with Robin on her mind.
Make it hard on us, they thought, maybe we’d go away. We’d persevered in spite of the barriers – blocking our access to locker rooms while male writers interviewed players – that these same men put up, which made it really tough for us to do our jobs. Back then, we were on our own in doing our jobs, steeling ourselves for the possibility of being bullied or hit on, ignored or humiliated, as men tested our mettle. We’d bonded intimately, tightly, and unshakably with the glue of emotional fortitude shaped by all of the experiences we’d had separately decades earlier but were imprinted on us. Appreciating that our time was short, and with much to say, we talked over each other sharing stories for which any of us could supply the ending. To see and hear us that night, gregarious and loud, was to intuit that we’d long been close chums. On the phone, Jane spoke of the specialness of our evening together, and I knew why. We sat at adjoining tables as Jane spoke, then after she signed books, the three of us carved out space to be together for what would be our first and last time. On a chilly night, late in 2018, Jane had come to Fenway Park to talk about The Big Fella, and Robin had come to hear her, with her husband, Paul, and so did I. A baseball writer for The Washington Post in the late 1970s, she’s the best-selling author of biographies of Mickey Mantle, Sandy Koufax, and The Big Fella, her most recent one about Babe Ruth.
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