Rebeka Cohan
2016-11-12T19:00:08Z
I loved Spectator too much. It's the way many people love this paper—they'll sacrifice everything for it.
2016-10-18T17:00:03Z
"I have three older brothers and I grew up in a town where football Saturdays were a day of worship."
After more than two years of being a part of the sports section—and a year of being sports editor—I have my answer pretty much down pat. You would think that upon discovering that I was sports editor at the Columbia Spectator, most people would question why I would devote so much time to a school where athletics wasn't exactly number one. But no—every time, the question is always, "Why sports?"
It's not the question that bothers me, per se. I love talking about my time at Spectator as sports editor and I love informing people (perhaps a little too enthusiastically) about my favorite historical moments in Ivy League and Columbia athletics. What annoys me is the intent behind the question. The question isn't really, "Why sports?" It's, "Why sports? You're a girl."
I'm really good at complaining about the confines of gender stereotypes—I do, after all, go to Barnard. But seriously, why is it still a surprise to people that girls can be interested in sports on their own? Why is it a surprise to people that I actually do enjoy a football game, and no, it isn't just because I'm trying to impress the cute boy next to me in the stands.
In my experience, it isn't sports fans that are openly guilty of this generalization, it's everyone else. I've never had to explain my allegiance to University of Michigan football or basketball to other sports fans, because they get it—they understand what it means to root for a team, to celebrate every win and mourn every loss. And not only that, they get the fact that the heart of being a sports fan has nothing to do with being male or female.
It's non-sports fans that don't get it. It isn't their fault—it's just the way society grooms us. But it doesn't make it any less annoying when I get a wide-eyed stare from the guy next to me on a flight back to New York City after Thanksgiving and I talk about how disappointed I was with Michigan's offense in the second half against Ohio State. Really? That's extremely basic knowledge. Being a woman doesn't make it more or less easy for me to understand the idea that 39 yards of offense in the second half is beyond terrible.
I realize I'm really fantastic at bitching about other people. I have it down to an art. People even commented on it in my senior yearbook. But if I'm being 100 percent honest with myself, I'm guilty of my own pet peeve.
I still explain myself every chance I get when people question why I wanted to be a part of the sports section. And deep down, there's a small part of me that believes it—that the only reason I watch sports is because I so desperately wanted to be included in something my big brothers (whom I worshipped) enjoyed.
But so what? Who cares why I got into it? The fact of the matter is, no matter my motivation for initially becoming a fan, I watch football because I like football. I root for Columbia basketball because I love it in a way that's a little bit unhealthy. And that has everything to do with me.
And maybe that's what people—sports fans, non-sports fans, and especially myself—need to realize. Being a fan of something is about the individual. Don't project anything else onto it. I understand that this is an extremely generic solution, but I really do think it's that simple.
Still, I need to realize that it's unlikely to ever change, at least in my lifetime. People will always be a little bit surprised that girls can like sports. And annoying as that is, I can't do anything about it. And neither can any other girl that loves baseball, football, basketball, soccer, cricket, or whatever.
What's a girl to do? Just deal with it, I guess. You can't control what other people think, what other people say, or what other people do. So we should try to stop caring. At the end of the day, it only matters as much as you think it does. For now, I'll just have to find a distraction. And although basketball might be ending, baseball is just around the corner.
Rebeka Cohan is a Barnard College junior majoring in history. She is a former sports editor and current staff development director for Spectator. And One runs biweekly.
rebeka.cohan@columbiaspectator.com | @rebekacohan
... After more than two years of being a part of the sports section—and a year of being sports editor—I have my answer pretty much down pat. You would think that upon discovering that I was sports editor at the Columbia Spectator, most people would question why I would devote so much time to a school where athletics wasn't exactly number one. But no—every time, the question is always, "Why sports?"
It's not the question that bothers me, per se. I love talking about my time at Spectator as sports editor and I love informing people (perhaps a little too enthusiastically) about my favorite historical moments in Ivy League and Columbia athletics. What annoys me is the intent behind the question. The question isn't really, "Why sports?" It's, "Why sports? You're a girl."
I'm really good at complaining about the confines of gender stereotypes—I do, after all, go to Barnard. But seriously, why is it still a surprise to people that girls can be interested in sports on their own? Why is it a surprise to people that I actually do enjoy a football game, and no, it isn't just because I'm trying to impress the cute boy next to me in the stands.
In my experience, it isn't sports fans that are openly guilty of this generalization, it's everyone else. I've never had to explain my allegiance to University of Michigan football or basketball to other sports fans, because they get it—they understand what it means to root for a team, to celebrate every win and mourn every loss. And not only that, they get the fact that the heart of being a sports fan has nothing to do with being male or female.
It's non-sports fans that don't get it. It isn't their fault—it's just the way society grooms us. But it doesn't make it any less annoying when I get a wide-eyed stare from the guy next to me on a flight back to New York City after Thanksgiving and I talk about how disappointed I was with Michigan's offense in the second half against Ohio State. Really? That's extremely basic knowledge. Being a woman doesn't make it more or less easy for me to understand the idea that 39 yards of offense in the second half is beyond terrible.
I realize I'm really fantastic at bitching about other people. I have it down to an art. People even commented on it in my senior yearbook. But if I'm being 100 percent honest with myself, I'm guilty of my own pet peeve.
I still explain myself every chance I get when people question why I wanted to be a part of the sports section. And deep down, there's a small part of me that believes it—that the only reason I watch sports is because I so desperately wanted to be included in something my big brothers (whom I worshipped) enjoyed.
But so what? Who cares why I got into it? The fact of the matter is, no matter my motivation for initially becoming a fan, I watch football because I like football. I root for Columbia basketball because I love it in a way that's a little bit unhealthy. And that has everything to do with me.
And maybe that's what people—sports fans, non-sports fans, and especially myself—need to realize. Being a fan of something is about the individual. Don't project anything else onto it. I understand that this is an extremely generic solution, but I really do think it's that simple.
Still, I need to realize that it's unlikely to ever change, at least in my lifetime. People will always be a little bit surprised that girls can like sports. And annoying as that is, I can't do anything about it. And neither can any other girl that loves baseball, football, basketball, soccer, cricket, or whatever.
What's a girl to do? Just deal with it, I guess. You can't control what other people think, what other people say, or what other people do. So we should try to stop caring. At the end of the day, it only matters as much as you think it does. For now, I'll just have to find a distraction. And although basketball might be ending, baseball is just around the corner.
Rebeka Cohan is a Barnard College junior majoring in history. She is a former sports editor and current staff development director for Spectator. And One runs biweekly.
rebeka.cohan@columbiaspectator.com | @rebekacohan
2015-08-31T23:00:02Z
The temperature outside is rapidly dropping and finals are just around the corner. For those who are of age, sipping on a craft beer might be the only way to relax and find some relief from all the stress. This weekend, the NYC Craft Beer Festival will feature some of its winter best. Check out our picks below.
... 2015-02-10T00:00:02Z
Almost two years ago, after Michigan beat Ohio State for the first time in seven years, I had the opportunity to set foot on the turf of Michigan's football stadium for the first time in my life. Having lived in Ann Arbor since I was five weeks old, I considered it an incredibly special opportunity. To me, Michigan football was more than just the team—it was also the Big House itself.
... 
2015-01-31T20:00:03Z
We haven't even had a full week of classes, and already all of the senior nostalgia has gotten tiresome. I sound ridiculous.
2015-01-12T20:05:02Z
The sun is shining, the weather is warm (at least for a Michigander), and spring is most certainly here. And yet, thanks to college admissions decisions, there's nothing quite like this time of year to remind me how much people on this campus like to be jerks. It's almost as though we thrive on it.
When it comes down to it, I don't think the constant negativity is because Columbians are bad people. Rather, most of us are just excruciatingly insecure about God knows what.
Two weeks before spring break, Jim Pagels and Trevor Cohen wrote an article in The Eye called "The Dodge Divide," which explored a supposed social gap between athletes and the rest of the student body. And the campus—or rather, the comments section on the article and the opinion pages of Spectator—exploded.
"Yet again, we are offered a sub-par and biased article on the divide between athletes and non-athletes."
"Why do you guys care so much what we do? You annoy us too but we don't write articles ripping you guys apart. Are you that insecure?"
"So, if you are going to stereotype athletes, I guess we can stereotype non-athletes as socially inept, judgmental, and egotistical. Oh, but please, complain more about the lack of sleep you get."
These comments attacking the article actually illustrate the issue the piece was highlighting: There is a social divide between athletes and non-athletes, an us versus them mentality. But what was most upsetting to me was the fact that some commenters decided to attack the quality of the piece itself and the journalists who wrote it, rather than discussing the problem that the article showcased. In a sense, the response to the article—both in comments and an op-ed responding to it—exemplified the root of a much larger problem:
There is very little respect on this campus.
I know that I'm probably discussing a very vocal minority—those who feel the need to spew venom in Spectator and Bwog comments—but these people still showcase the fact that this is an extremely real issue on campus.
We can see a lot of it with athletics. If the comments section of a recent Spectator op-ed is any indication, there is most certainly a perception that athletes are unintelligent. But where's the proof?
Again and again, people tend to cite admissions decisions and rigor—supposedly, athletes don't hold up to everyone else in the student body.
Seriously? We're going to refer to SAT scores and high school to judge the worth of our peers? Let's be real: I don't care how you did on a useless test when you were 16. Quite honestly, admissions statistics don't mean anything. At the end of the day, we're all extremely lucky to be here, and it would be foolish to think that the students fortunate enough to get an acceptance letter were the only ones deserving of a Barnard or Columbia education.
I don't care what some anonymous member of an admissions committee thought of you. I care about what drive and passion you bring to campus now. And athletes bring a lot. The amount of time that they practice and dedicate to their respective teams is admirable.
The biggest complaint here is that the teams don't win, but I think that this sentiment is fairly uneducated. Our golf, volleyball, tennis, and track and field teams are all incredible. We have some of the best fencers in the world at Columbia.
But what about our headliner sports, like football and basketball, you might ask?
I, more than anyone else, get worked up over wins and losses because of how much I love Columbia sports. But because of that, I'm also aware that our football team was two heartbreakingly close losses—Penn and Dartmouth—away from finishing .500. And inconsistency and poor late-game execution were what plagued our basketball team, not a lack of talent. Although the Light Blue couldn't deliver throughout much of the Ivy season, it still notched wins over tournament teams Villanova and Harvard.
This lack of respect doesn't just exist within the context of the Dodge Divide. The attitude exists toward Greek life. General Studies students. Barnard students. This is a campus filled with competitive type-A personalities, so it isn't really surprising that respect is not plentiful.
Columbia loves to talk about problems within its community. We talk a lot about problems that, quite frankly, are so abstract that it's pretty much impossible to fix them. But this one is solvable.
So, Columbia, listen up: You're all incredibly accomplished, talented, smart, and very lucky to be here. Yes, I know we've spent so much of our life defining our success and self-worth by being better than others. But we don't need to do that anymore. Columbia, live for yourself. Try to make yourself proud. You're a part of an incredible community that overflows with talent and intelligence. Your peers are all wonderful, inspiring individuals. So act like it.
Rebeka Cohan is a Barnard College junior majoring in history. She is the staff development director and a former sports editor for Spectator. And One runs biweekly.
rebeka.cohan@columbiaspectator.com | @rebekacohan
... When it comes down to it, I don't think the constant negativity is because Columbians are bad people. Rather, most of us are just excruciatingly insecure about God knows what.
Two weeks before spring break, Jim Pagels and Trevor Cohen wrote an article in The Eye called "The Dodge Divide," which explored a supposed social gap between athletes and the rest of the student body. And the campus—or rather, the comments section on the article and the opinion pages of Spectator—exploded.
"Yet again, we are offered a sub-par and biased article on the divide between athletes and non-athletes."
"Why do you guys care so much what we do? You annoy us too but we don't write articles ripping you guys apart. Are you that insecure?"
"So, if you are going to stereotype athletes, I guess we can stereotype non-athletes as socially inept, judgmental, and egotistical. Oh, but please, complain more about the lack of sleep you get."
These comments attacking the article actually illustrate the issue the piece was highlighting: There is a social divide between athletes and non-athletes, an us versus them mentality. But what was most upsetting to me was the fact that some commenters decided to attack the quality of the piece itself and the journalists who wrote it, rather than discussing the problem that the article showcased. In a sense, the response to the article—both in comments and an op-ed responding to it—exemplified the root of a much larger problem:
There is very little respect on this campus.
I know that I'm probably discussing a very vocal minority—those who feel the need to spew venom in Spectator and Bwog comments—but these people still showcase the fact that this is an extremely real issue on campus.
We can see a lot of it with athletics. If the comments section of a recent Spectator op-ed is any indication, there is most certainly a perception that athletes are unintelligent. But where's the proof?
Again and again, people tend to cite admissions decisions and rigor—supposedly, athletes don't hold up to everyone else in the student body.
Seriously? We're going to refer to SAT scores and high school to judge the worth of our peers? Let's be real: I don't care how you did on a useless test when you were 16. Quite honestly, admissions statistics don't mean anything. At the end of the day, we're all extremely lucky to be here, and it would be foolish to think that the students fortunate enough to get an acceptance letter were the only ones deserving of a Barnard or Columbia education.
I don't care what some anonymous member of an admissions committee thought of you. I care about what drive and passion you bring to campus now. And athletes bring a lot. The amount of time that they practice and dedicate to their respective teams is admirable.
The biggest complaint here is that the teams don't win, but I think that this sentiment is fairly uneducated. Our golf, volleyball, tennis, and track and field teams are all incredible. We have some of the best fencers in the world at Columbia.
But what about our headliner sports, like football and basketball, you might ask?
I, more than anyone else, get worked up over wins and losses because of how much I love Columbia sports. But because of that, I'm also aware that our football team was two heartbreakingly close losses—Penn and Dartmouth—away from finishing .500. And inconsistency and poor late-game execution were what plagued our basketball team, not a lack of talent. Although the Light Blue couldn't deliver throughout much of the Ivy season, it still notched wins over tournament teams Villanova and Harvard.
This lack of respect doesn't just exist within the context of the Dodge Divide. The attitude exists toward Greek life. General Studies students. Barnard students. This is a campus filled with competitive type-A personalities, so it isn't really surprising that respect is not plentiful.
Columbia loves to talk about problems within its community. We talk a lot about problems that, quite frankly, are so abstract that it's pretty much impossible to fix them. But this one is solvable.
So, Columbia, listen up: You're all incredibly accomplished, talented, smart, and very lucky to be here. Yes, I know we've spent so much of our life defining our success and self-worth by being better than others. But we don't need to do that anymore. Columbia, live for yourself. Try to make yourself proud. You're a part of an incredible community that overflows with talent and intelligence. Your peers are all wonderful, inspiring individuals. So act like it.
Rebeka Cohan is a Barnard College junior majoring in history. She is the staff development director and a former sports editor for Spectator. And One runs biweekly.
rebeka.cohan@columbiaspectator.com | @rebekacohan
2015-01-12T14:00:03Z
During break, I almost slapped a girl over Ivy League basketball. In my defense, she goes to Harvard. And she was wrong. Not so much in my defense, she's still one of my friends.
But really, it wasn't my fault. A small group of folks from my high school were home in Ann Arbor over break, and one night while hanging out, we started talking about the outlook of the then-upcoming Michigan football bowl game (I don't want to talk about it) and the promise of the Michigan basketball season (17-1, bitches). Knowing I had been sports editor for an Ivy paper, someone asked me about how the Harvard cheating scandal was supposed to affect its basketball team .
OK, so maybe I went a little overboard ranting about Harvard's questionable recruiting tactics. I'm not Tommy Amaker's biggest fan, so sue me. But after hearing my friend say that all schools do it and that Harvard is not particularly at fault, I kind of lost it and nearly had to restrain myself so I wouldn't get into an all-out brawl over Harvard basketball. It's a little (OK, very) crazy, but I just care about Ivy League athletics a lot. It was my job to care, yes. But I really care.
Why? I truly believe that Ivy athletics has something for everyone, even if you're not fascinated by sports. Look, I may not like the apathy for sports at this school, but I get it. If you don't like football now, you're not gonna like football when you watch Columbia. You're still going to struggle to watch a game, wondering why do they have to stop every time someone is tackled. But that doesn't mean there isn't something you can't get out of it. That's the one thing that I promise to show you in the upcoming semester through this column: even if you're not a sports fan, Ivy League athletics has a lot to offer (most of it good), although not all of it is on the court. The history of the league? Fascinating. The hatred and condescension you can have for other teams in the conference? Lots of fun.
For me, the best part of all of it are the possibilities at the start of the season. There's a lot of disappointment that comes with being a Lions fan—see this year's Homecoming game, and our heartbreaking loss in basketball last year to Yale at home. But in order for there to be disappointment, you have to have hope. I had a hard time starting college two years ago—I was homesick, shy, and felt like I had nothing to hold on to. But as an avid sports fan growing up, I discovered that Columbia athletics gave me something to care about.
Being a Columbia fan isn't easy, but it is exciting. In its 2011 campaign, the men's soccer team could have clinched sole claim on an Ivy title with a win over Cornell, its final game of the season. Instead, the Lions and Big Red tied, leaving both teams titleless. Columbia's fencing program is one of the top in country and had high hopes at Ivy Championship last spring. But those hopes were crushed by the then two-time defending champ Princeton, which topped the Lions 18-9 in the final round of Ivies.
Ivy League basketball is no exception. Last season was a rough time to be a Lions basketball fan , but I have faith that this season is going to be great—and not just because Columbia was picked to finish third in the Ancient Eight.
The best thing about the conference for basketball is how unpredictable it is. The Ivy schedule is tough. Each weekend brings two games, and road trips are long. Although Columbia ended the 2012 season 4-10 in the league, many of the games were close, and its record included an overtime loss to Harvard, the eventual conference champion.
This year, Harvard and Princeton were picked to finish a close one-two, with Columbia trailing behind. But with the unpredictability of Ivy League play, who knows? The Light Blue started Ivy season this year with a strong win over Cornell. And although I refuse to make rash predictions based on one game, the fact that the Lions were finally able to notch a comfortable win on the road says good things about the upcoming season.
Like I said, what I love most about being a Columbia fan is the hope. And right now, there's a lot of it. I'm dreaming of an Ivy championship. Because, for now, there's nothing saying otherwise. And if it doesn't happen? Oh well. I'll probably still have to stop myself from slapping someone who goes to Harvard or Princeton. I'll be more likely than not after arguing about Ivy League sports with someone who probably doesn't give a fuck.
Rebeka Cohan is a Barnard College junior majoring in history. She is the staff development director and a former sports editor for Spectator. And One runs bi-weekly.
sports@columbiaspectator.com
... But really, it wasn't my fault. A small group of folks from my high school were home in Ann Arbor over break, and one night while hanging out, we started talking about the outlook of the then-upcoming Michigan football bowl game (I don't want to talk about it) and the promise of the Michigan basketball season (17-1, bitches). Knowing I had been sports editor for an Ivy paper, someone asked me about how the Harvard cheating scandal was supposed to affect its basketball team .
OK, so maybe I went a little overboard ranting about Harvard's questionable recruiting tactics. I'm not Tommy Amaker's biggest fan, so sue me. But after hearing my friend say that all schools do it and that Harvard is not particularly at fault, I kind of lost it and nearly had to restrain myself so I wouldn't get into an all-out brawl over Harvard basketball. It's a little (OK, very) crazy, but I just care about Ivy League athletics a lot. It was my job to care, yes. But I really care.
Why? I truly believe that Ivy athletics has something for everyone, even if you're not fascinated by sports. Look, I may not like the apathy for sports at this school, but I get it. If you don't like football now, you're not gonna like football when you watch Columbia. You're still going to struggle to watch a game, wondering why do they have to stop every time someone is tackled. But that doesn't mean there isn't something you can't get out of it. That's the one thing that I promise to show you in the upcoming semester through this column: even if you're not a sports fan, Ivy League athletics has a lot to offer (most of it good), although not all of it is on the court. The history of the league? Fascinating. The hatred and condescension you can have for other teams in the conference? Lots of fun.
For me, the best part of all of it are the possibilities at the start of the season. There's a lot of disappointment that comes with being a Lions fan—see this year's Homecoming game, and our heartbreaking loss in basketball last year to Yale at home. But in order for there to be disappointment, you have to have hope. I had a hard time starting college two years ago—I was homesick, shy, and felt like I had nothing to hold on to. But as an avid sports fan growing up, I discovered that Columbia athletics gave me something to care about.
Being a Columbia fan isn't easy, but it is exciting. In its 2011 campaign, the men's soccer team could have clinched sole claim on an Ivy title with a win over Cornell, its final game of the season. Instead, the Lions and Big Red tied, leaving both teams titleless. Columbia's fencing program is one of the top in country and had high hopes at Ivy Championship last spring. But those hopes were crushed by the then two-time defending champ Princeton, which topped the Lions 18-9 in the final round of Ivies.
Ivy League basketball is no exception. Last season was a rough time to be a Lions basketball fan , but I have faith that this season is going to be great—and not just because Columbia was picked to finish third in the Ancient Eight.
The best thing about the conference for basketball is how unpredictable it is. The Ivy schedule is tough. Each weekend brings two games, and road trips are long. Although Columbia ended the 2012 season 4-10 in the league, many of the games were close, and its record included an overtime loss to Harvard, the eventual conference champion.
This year, Harvard and Princeton were picked to finish a close one-two, with Columbia trailing behind. But with the unpredictability of Ivy League play, who knows? The Light Blue started Ivy season this year with a strong win over Cornell. And although I refuse to make rash predictions based on one game, the fact that the Lions were finally able to notch a comfortable win on the road says good things about the upcoming season.
Like I said, what I love most about being a Columbia fan is the hope. And right now, there's a lot of it. I'm dreaming of an Ivy championship. Because, for now, there's nothing saying otherwise. And if it doesn't happen? Oh well. I'll probably still have to stop myself from slapping someone who goes to Harvard or Princeton. I'll be more likely than not after arguing about Ivy League sports with someone who probably doesn't give a fuck.
Rebeka Cohan is a Barnard College junior majoring in history. She is the staff development director and a former sports editor for Spectator. And One runs bi-weekly.
sports@columbiaspectator.com
2014-11-10T18:35:04Z
On Saturday night, the men's basketball team kicked off its season with a 73-54 win. Unfortunately, I wasn't there to appreciate it.
... 
