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Choking at the BowlWhy do men have trouble urinating at ballparks?

Illustration by Robert NeubeckerA Slate employee—we'll call him "Thad"—asks the sports department to solve a problem that has been vexing him: Why does he have trouble urinating at ballparks? His testimony, worded as delicately as possible, goes like this: At a Seattle Mariners game, Thad slugged down several ballpark beverages. Later, he shuffled into the restroom, angled toward the urinals, unzipped his trousers, and then … nothing. Not a drop. Embarrassed and in acute pain, he waddled back to his seat, where he spent the remaining innings swaying like Stevie Wonder in front of a piano.

After polling some of the country's pre-eminent urologists, we discovered that, surprise, Thad isn't alone. Men experience stage fright at ballpark urinals all the time. In fact, the problem is so common that urologists have a reassuring, pat-on-the-butt-sounding name for it: choking at the bowl.

There are three reasons why ballparks cause men to choke—two physical, one psychological. First, some men spend their time at the ballpark slugging down a beer every half-inning. Alcohol causes the prostate gland to swell, which impedes the flow of urine from the bladder to the urinal channel. Thus, when the man reaches the urinal, nothing happens. Dr. Rodney Appell, a urologist at the Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, says the problem occurs most frequently with older men who have enlarged prostates to begin with.

Other times men choke at the bowl because they guzzle too many beverages, alcoholic or not, and overstretch their bladders. A normal-sized bladder will contract when full, allowing urine to flow out of the body. But an overstretched bladder—distended by four or five souvenir-cup sodas—is slow to contract, and sometimes urination stalls.

But most of the men who choke at the bowl suffer from an anxiety disorder called paruresis, or Shy Bladder Syndrome. These men, quite simply, are embarrassed to bare all in the presence of strangers. Steve Soifer, a professor of social work who founded the International Paruresis Association, estimates that 17 million Americans suffer from some form of Shy Bladder Syndrome, about 7 percent of the population.

When a man with a shy bladder enters the ballpark restroom, the crowds, long lines, and stadium noise make him sweat. So does the ballpark restroom's infamous trough urinal, a knee-high, stainless steel gutter that forces men to urinate while standing elbow-to-elbow. (Some stadiums built before the Trough Era have gutters carved directly into the floor.) If the shy bladder even makes it to the trough—some flee the restroom at this point—his nervousness causes him clamp down on his sphincter muscle, which prevents his bladder from contracting.

Soifer, a recovering paruretic himself, offers a three-day workshop for shy bladders, held monthly in cities in the United States, Canada, and Great Britain. It costs $300 to attend. The first day is a group counseling session. During the second day, attendees gorge themselves on water and then, in pairs, practice voiding in their hotel bathrooms. In this exercise, one man stands at the toilet while his partner stands a comfortable distance behind him. As the first man begins to urinate, his partner inches closer, eventually standing directly behind the man, sometimes touching or razzing him as he urinates, to re-create the feel of a busy public restroom. The closing event of the workshop, which Soifer calls the "graduation ceremony," is held in a bathroom at a train station, airport, or, occasionally, a ballpark.

Even with therapy, will a shy bladder ever feel at ease at the ballpark trough? "I've suffered from paruresis for 30 years," Soifer says, "and I've been in recovery for the last six. I'm not cured. It's a lot like alcoholism. You can recover close to 100 percent, but it can get set off again in certain situations. That's why I don't talk about a cure."

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Bryan Curtis, a contributing writer, writes the "Middlebrow" column.
Illustration by Robert Neubecker.
COMMENTS

Notes From The Fray Editor:

We are sensitive, squeamish, and female at Fray HQ, so we approached the Fray on this one with great caution. Maybe we were just lucky in our choice of posts to open, but the toilet humor was widespread but not offensive. Nice work chaps.


Reader Comments From The Fray:


In his wonderful novel The Mezzanine, Nicholson Baker revealed a cure for shy bladder that has worked for me and every other guy I've told. I'm amazed more guys don't know about it. The catch is that it reveals an ugly truth about the male psyche. If you find yourself stricken by pee-shyness, simply imagine that you're peeing on your boss's head. Or if you like your boss, imagine that it's your boss's boss. If you're self-employed, pick somebody else you hate. Even a sensitive New Age guy will find himself flowing freely in no time flat.

--Jack

(To find or answer this post, click here.)


For years I thought I was the only one who suffered from this little disorder, especially debilitating to those of a shy (or would that be upright?) disposition like me. I thought I once saw a glancing reference to it in Harper's statistics column under the heading "Blushing Penis", but could never find that reference again, nor did I have any luck typing that phrase into Google. I hit the gold mine, though, when I typed in "Blushing Bladder" about six months ago. The comparative relief I felt can only be compared to going 16 hours without being able to pee. (I think my actual record was once 8 hours.)

People reading the Bryan Curtis's article may think the disorder is restricted only to public sports stadiums (those Roman memorials to politicians pissing away the taxpayers' money). No, for some, such as myself, the problem is far worse. I can't pee anyplace where somebody can even hear me. And that problem, believe me, has been a contributing factor (though not the only one) to losing quite a few jobs, including one at dear old Microsoft way back in 1988… My "solution" is to advertise my disability on my resume as a disability, to almost never travel anywhere outside the range of a private bathroom, and to console myself with the realization that while being forced to live without a bathroom of one's own is hard (make that difficult), it is probably not as bad as what Virginia Woolf had to suffer for her femininity or E.M. Forster for his sexuality.

--DumbID

(To find or answer this post, click here.)


There are two kinds of men. Sniveling SBS weaklings and real men who can piss anytime anywhere. It's clear that, if American men don't keep their tools, like their weapons, in good working condition, we're going to wind up on the down side of a pissing gap. What this country needs is more pissin' contests for our boys!

--Publius

(To find or answer this post, click here.)

(5/17)

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