Americans love sports. We appreciate our games down to a sensory level; the cracks, the crunches, the swishes, the pops, the roars and clanks and thuds and whooshes blend together to identify the foundational moments of a passionate American sports narrative, replicable in every American backyard of every American family since the turn into the 20th-century.
It’s been a symbiotic relationship, for the most part, between the fans and the athletes. We support them with praise, attention and our hard-earned dollars, and they pay us back by carrying us through our most stressful and least fun times: individually as avid followers and collectively, even when divided, as a nation. We’ve asked our athletes to produce, whether it be the all-too familiar sounds of our favorite pastimes or the simple gratification in owning a victory. And our nation’s athletes have done so in relative solidarity, for over a hundred years, producing those sensory details of their respective games that so enliven our spirits, relieve us from our troubles and unite our country.
But in the modern context, to believe that “the crack of the bat” can solve all of the problems of 2016, is to encourage ignorance. While the various onomatopoeias of sports might remind us of a “simpler” time, or, as it has been called, “the good old days,” it is irresponsible to ignore the progress of our country, and that “the good old days” were actually the opposite for various cross-sections of people in America.
Today’s athletes have shown that they can no longer allow their game to speak for them. It’s a common phrase tossed around in sports jargon: let your game speak. In essence, it means that, in the face of doubt, challenge, injustice or adversity, athletes must excel in their play in order to make a statement.
In the 1936 Olympics, Jesse Owens spoke loudly to the Third Reich; Owens forced a demagogue to crown him, a target of oppression, a gold medalist. Jackie Robinson, in 1949, was the Rookie of the Year of his country’s pastime, a country not yet ready to break the very color barrier Robinson had broken. Billie Jean King beat Bobby Riggs in straight sets in 1973, winning what was dubbed “The Battle of the Sexes,” during our country’s internal struggles with women’s and gay rights. When the country refused to listen to the pains of its oppressed people, these athletes were forced to let their game speak, because they could best send their messages to their fans through excellent play.
In more recent history, America has made its way toward equality, and our athletes have taken this progress as their cue to divide what had been their undivided attention to the court, or the field, or the team, and to address their fans, and their country. Our beloved world of sports has become politicized.
Just this year, we heard four black NBA superstars open the ESPYs, a night of sports’ celebration, with a directed, passionate cry for social activism in this country. We listened to the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team, champions of the world, as they protested the income gap between themselves and their male counterparts. We read that the NCAA pull championship events out of North Carolina in response to anti-LGBT and anti-transgender laws, and Duke University athletics support the NCAA in their dissent. We saw the commencement of our cherished football season, and we saw our football players choose not to participate in our country’s national anthem.
All of this is far removed from “the good old days,” when our athletes remained docile superheroes, choosing to suppress their concerns for issues that plagued the world outside of sports. But today our athletes have brought the real world into the arena. Our athletes have recognized that their fans, the American families in American backyards replicating the cracks and whooshes and pops of the American games, have yet to replicate the ideals and goals of a progressing nation. And mere onomatopoeia won't suffice until we do so.
It’s not a question of whether our athletes’ newfound voices, and their uses of such, are disrespectful. That doesn’t matter. Our country has come too far to look backwards and yearn for simpler times. The fact that there are groups of people in this country who stand in solidarity with our outspoken athletes speaks to the truth that these voices are the sounds of the game that will unite us as a nation. That while the sensory attributes of our sports provide comfort, they do not provide a worthy dialogue.
A thud is just a thud. But the collective silence by a number of our athletes during the pre-game national anthem speaks louder than even the loudest sounds of sports. As does the fans’ support, and their neglect, of the new sounds of the game.
Our athletes have broken out of their limiting genre of “sports entertainment,” and have challenged the country to contextualize our beloved sports in the modern times. In 2016, the world of sports, so dear to the hearts of Americans and the core values of America, has entered a real political and societal conversation, with the voices of our athletes leading the charge. It’s been a long time since we fans have been asked by our athletes to do anything. It’s about time to stop over-pumping the keg of Keystone, and start listening to our athletes’ pitch for necessary progress, before we appreciate the simple pleasure we find in the crack of the bat.
Jackson Prince is a Trinity sophomore and editorial page editor. His column, “playing with fire,” runs on alternate Mondays.
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