Guy Calling Himself a Girl Easily Wins Female Track Championship
Let’s hear it for Andraya Yearwood, the Cromwell High School freshman who bested the competition in the girls’ 100-meter and 200-meter dash finals last week! What an astounding accomplishment for the young high schooler, who only had to inform the Connecticut State athletic commission that he was a “transgender” person to switch from the boys’ field to the girls’ and easily overcome the rest of the finalists.
Yes, in the latest edition of Is This Seriously Happening?, the media is pretending that it’s perfectly normal and wonderfully progressive to let a boy with bulging muscles and even the faint shadow of a mustache to call himself a girl and then go on to defeat actual girls in athletic competition. As pointed out in The Daily Caller, Yearwood’s finish time in the races would have put him at the bottom of the boys’ race. That didn’t stop the transgender athlete from puffing up his chest when asked about the victory.
“It feels really good,” Yearwood told The Day. “I’m really happy to win both titles. I kind of expected it. I’ve always gotten first, so I expected it to some extent. I’m really proud of it.”
Oh, and you definitely should be, because, after all, you are whatever you say you are in this Brave New America. And if you say you’re a girl, why, then who are we to say otherwise? We can’t wait for you to give a speech at graduation, patting yourself on the back for making it all the way through high school without getting pregnant. That’ll be a lesson for all those slutty girls who couldn’t manage to do the same.
“I know they’ll say it is unfair and not right, but my counter to that is: Why not?” the athlete’s mother told the Hartford Courier. “She is competing and practicing and giving her all and performing and excelling based on her skills. Let that be enough. Let her do that, and be proud of that.”
That’s right. And if Yearwood decided next year that he identifies as a giraffe, why not let him spend some time in the Connecticut State Zoo? And if, in his junior year, he decides that he’s actually a Hyundai Accent, slap some headlights on his chest and drive him to work. Because why not, right?
Why effing not.