Hollow words are useless for victims of police brutality
The Mavericks couldn’t have spent more than eight minutes and 46 seconds on its statement regarding George Floyd, stuffing it with corny basketball puns until the last gasp of meaning was choked out. The NFL’s words only begin to make sense if you’re never heard of the NFL or the American flag. “For once, don’t do it,” said Nike while doing everything in its power to ensure Republicans buy sneakers, still.
Even the WNBA — rightly lauded for its record of supporting good things and rebuking wicked — caught up with the guys by promoting a flaccid, powerless slogan. What’s “Bigger than Ball” you ask? That’s for you to figure out.
It takes creativity to say nothing as loudly as possible, and the brutal police killings of Floyd and Breonna Taylor have pushed professional sports and the brands that support them to innovate like never before.
Saying nothing is not an option because the absence of anything blatantly prioritizes the comfort of fans and employees who would rather the broken glass and bodies get swept away. As someone who covers MLB but sees much more of myself in George and Breonna than in baseball, my ears are still buzzing from the league’s public silence.
Regionally, it’s not much better. Were you to scan the Yankees’ social media page, you might think the team is still relishing the anniversary of Derek Jeter being drafted into the league. (Very likely the greatest African American player in team history, Jeter’s words reveal his
heart and mind are far from celebration.) James Dolan is far from a straight shooter regarding where the Knicks and Rangers stand.
Neither MLB, nor the Yankees responded to repeated requests for comment on their lack of a statement or plans for supporting for players and staff affected by the news.
But I reject the notion that you should speak even if you still ain’t saying s—t. Silence and word salads are both loud.
Name the victims and tell us who they were. Say George’s name, because were it not for a providential camera, the men who killed him would have lied as much as needed until you forgot. Name Ahmaud Arbery, an unarmed man shot and killed while jogging, even though he was slain by vigilantes instead of people who merely took the law into their own hands. Tony McDade, a trans victim of police violence killed on May 27, hasn’t shown up in any corporate sports statements, and if you don’t know why, re-read the first part of this sentence.
They weren’t just innocent victims. They were black. Not diverse. Black. Their skin and their heritage indicate they weren’t glitches in the system, but a sign that the system worked exactly as purposed.
Name the perpetrators. Breonna was not shot to death in her sleep by “social injustice,” but by six people that burst through her home in the middle of the night. George wasn’t asphyxiated by “senseless brutality” but by one officer’s knee, and three others’ neglect.
These people were killed by specific actors and institutions empowered by tax dollars, politicians, attorneys and cultural neglect. Discussing their deaths without identifying who killed them is a cop-out.
Otherwise, your overture is diluted beyond reasonable comprehension. The Braves declared “Enough!” but to who? Opposing
“violence in all forms” is fake hustle when there is one form that killed them. As far as team statements go, the Pirates’ nearly illuminating what happened, but they leave out who did it — maybe because their new Topps Pittsburgh cop card partnership would look real funny in the light.
Name your response. Not having “all the answers,” is understandable — because unraveling a racist system is complicated, but that shouldn’t stop any entity from committing to a timeframe for addressing it in full, lest fans should assume your actions are conveniently buried under the next news cycle.
We didn’t need a statement from the Nets and Liberty to know they are “working with law enforcement,” because we see law enforcement every time we walk into your arena or stadium for a game, or surround Barclays with Iron Man-cosplayers just in case something Bigger than Ball shows up. Some would like to know what you’re doing with the institution that started the figurative fire and deployed the literal tear gas.
Right now, I’m not asking for activism, just honesty. But the examples worth pointing to are few. The Wizards and Rays rightly challenged police abuse and their elected enablers, with Tampa pledging to donate $100,000 a year to “causes in the fight against systemic racism.” These are causes the Rays still need to identify — a rep told the News the specific plans will be posted when they’re finalized — but it’s a tangible commitment that at least leaves some faint hope of change.
Speaking of: The fans mourning George, Breonna, Tony and countless others that came before them deserve on-the-record clarity that doesn’t just spray the word “change” in their eyes, but articulates what a difference should look like. Until teams can commit to the bare minimum, there’s really nothing more to say.