HOW LONG WILL SPORTS KEEP BATTLING RACISM?
Leagues, teams decrying prejudices now that they are being called out
If last week was when sports organizations lined up to say they were committed to ending racism, this week was when they started to do something about it. Are these the green shoots of something that will grow into serious change, or merely the clearing of the most obvious weeds?
NASCAR, the rootin’ tootin’ car-racing series, has banned the display of the Confederate flag at its events. It is at once a sea change, but one that also shows how little mind it paid to inclusivity until literally days ago.
The Boston Red Sox issued a statement that backed an opposing player’s account of racist abuse suffered at Fenway Park, and went on to say there were seven complaints of such behaviour in the stands at the ballpark last season alone — “those are just the ones we know about.” The team’s simple statement that this stuff is real is a significant step beyond the promises to look into it that have happened before when players — even those on the Red Sox — have complained about racism in the bleachers.
The International Olympic Committee, after a backlash when it said it would keep its ban on political protests and symbolism at its events, has now said it will reconsider the issue. The IOC being what it is, expect it to give the idea a good mulling for months.
But this is a start. And that’s something. If the killing of George Floyd and the resulting protests across the United States and elsewhere are truly going to be a tipping point toward racial equality, then sports will have a significant role to play.
Fan bases cross ideological and political divides, and teams can engender a loyalty among their supporters that can be bewildering to behold. If Justin Trudeau says something about combating racism, it will cause many Albertans to grit their teeth, but there would be a different reaction if
Connor Mcdavid or Mark Giordano said it.
It’s also true that sports has a lot of work to do in terms of cleaning up its own backyard. Before Floyd’s death, before the pandemic shut everything down, racism in sports already had quite a year. Akim Aliu’s story of his treatment in hockey’s minor leagues led to the resignation of Bill Peters as the Calgary Flames’ coach. Don Cherry lost his job on Hockey Night in Canada when he refused to apologize for using language in a Remembrance Day segment that was specifically critical of immigrants. In England, the men’s national soccer team was subject to racist abuse repeatedly and in different countries, as were multiple Black players on Italian club teams, sparking a round of introspection about intolerance in the sport.
One of the defences, seen most recently in Italy when fan groups tried to explain their behaviour at soccer matches, was that a chant wasn’t necessarily racist if it wasn’t meant that way. That is, a monkey noise directed at a Black player was just meant to unsettle them, like a particularly effective boo. No malice intended.
That people felt comfortable enough with this explanation to offer it with a straight face suggests how far we have to go to ensure that sports is not a safe space for such behaviour. But “don’t shout racist abuse at the players” is also an extremely low bar to clear.
The Colin Kaepernick saga, in which the NFL quarterback effectively lost his job for becoming the face of a protest against police brutality, wasn’t as simple, and 32 teams decided they would rather not have an avatar for social justice on the roster, even one who had taken a team to the Super Bowl. Late last week, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell vowed that the league condemned racism and the oppression of Black people, promises that came about four years too late for Kaepernick. It is also a bit rich coming from a league that still has a team called the Redskins. Speaking of low bars to clear.
One of the most frequent criticisms of Kaepernick and the players who followed his lead was they were forcing their views upon the football-watching public. They were, gasp, making a political statement at a sporting event. What about someone who just wanted to watch football and not think of anything more significant than the point spread? (And to occasionally salute the troops?) Those criticisms have long been levied at athletes who took a stance on social issues, from Jim Brown to Muhammad Ali to Tommie Smith and John Carlos, to Kaepernick and Lebron James. Sports isn’t the place for that kind of talk, they are told. Shut up and play.
Was this past week the inflection point? Players and coaches of many backgrounds, and in many sports, have said they must do more to combat racism. But it is an easy thing to issue a statement, whether through a PR firm or on the notes app on a player’s phone. Will they speak out the next time they see racism on the ice or the field or in the stands, or will they chalk it up to the heightened tensions of an important game? Will they consider this moment before they criticize an athlete’s haircut, or tattoos or choice of music?
Goodell’s statement, for one, sounds like he would approach it differently if players knelt during the anthem in the coming NFL season. But the games are still three months away.