THE BLACK ATHLETE - Reprinted

A 260lb man almost running a 4.3...I mean DAMN!! #MontrezSweat

— Damien Woody (@damienwoody) March 3, 2019

Alabama DL Quinnen Williams 1st 40 = 4.87u. 🔥 pic.twitter.com/haUNKVKmX0

— ig: josinaanderson (@JosinaAnderson) March 3, 2019

Alabama DT Quinnen Williams' official 40-time is 4.83.

That's the 4th-fastest by any 300-lb player at the Combine since 2006, and faster than:

- J.J. Watt (4.84 at 290 lbs in 2011)

- Geno Atkins (4.85 at 293 lbs in 2010)

- Daron Payne (4.90 at 311 lbs in 2018) pic.twitter.com/B77QL8Jn0q

— ESPN Stats & Info (@ESPNStatsInfo) March 3, 2019

D.K. Metcalf has taken over the NFL combine.

— 6’3” 228lbs
— 27 reps
— 40.5" vertical
— 4.33 40 time
— 1.6% body fat pic.twitter.com/ZsFr1Iziks

— Bleacher Report (@BleacherReport) March 2, 2019

#Mizzou WR Emanuel Hall with an amzing 11'9" broad jump.

2nd-best broad jump in the history of the NFL Combine (Byron Jones). pic.twitter.com/OyeT4gTwVS

— Steve Frederick (@_SteveFrederick) March 2, 2019

Officially the FASTEST 40 of the 2019 #NFLCombine...@OleMissFB DB Zedrick Woods runs a 4.29!!! 🔥 @ZedrickW pic.twitter.com/QJNFkcifSe

— NFL (@NFL) March 4, 2019

Do African-Americans (and individuals of African heritage in general) tend to excel in athletic competition? If answered in the affirmative, what is the rationale behind this phenomenon? And most important of all, what are the implications of this reasoning?

Considered objectively, African-Americans clearly represent a significantly larger percentage of professional athletes (particularly at the most elite levels) than the portion of the population that they represent. This is beyond debate. On the track, if anyone will be gaining ground on Marion Jones or Maurice Greene any time soon, in all likelihood they will not have blonde hair and blue eyes. Whether in short distance sprints or long distance marathons, the person who crosses the finish line first usually has brown skin. On most teams in the NBA in recent history, if you were searching for a white man you would have been best served starting with the twelfth man on the bench, if there was one to be found at all. Disproportionate numbers of blacks occupy positions in the NFL that require the most speed, agility, and leaping ability. Think about it. If you were choosing sides for a game of pick up basketball and had to decide between the remaining white guy and the remaining black guy, all other characteristics appearing equal, whom would you choose?

Scientists have researched, and some even claim to have found physiological differences that prove members of one race are predisposed to do better at certain tasks than members of other races. If it is taken as factual that a person's heritage makes them more susceptible to a particular disease, then can an equally valid point not be made about one group of people genetically having faster twitch muscles than another?

And so, with both impartial numbers and unbiased science supporting the case, why is the statement that blacks are superior athletes to whites such a controversial one? Why do some people vehemently oppose such a seemingly obvious notion? The answer can be written in black and white. America is a land obsessed with race relations. Racial prejudice is by no means a lost art in the land of the free, home of the brave. So any broad statement that divides us along color lines will be open to great scrutiny. Even if a generality seems benign, it still constitutes a stereotype. Once a stereotype is accepted by those it is being pinned on, the argument for other less pleasant stigmas is strengthened. Is to accept being labeled as naturally faster worth the cost of also being considered inherently lazier, or less intelligent, or more criminal minded? Of course not. This is a clear cut case of the negatives far outweighing the positives. Sometimes evidence is best left ignored.


Besides, the latest wave of European imports and special American finds is slowly but surely bringing a semblance of racial balance to the NBA. If any race can be said to be tailor made to dominate Major League Baseball, that honor belongs not to blacks, but to Hispanics. Perhaps the next white heavyweight champion of the world is not lurking around a corner in nearby proximity (I was proven wrong here.  See Brothers Klitschko). But a Brit did recently manage to win and hold the belt for awhile, which is just about as fantastical as the plots of Rocky I through V.

It's just plain sense that those who were initially excluded from competing at the highest levels of sports would end up excelling when finally given the opportunity. As for dominating or at least achieving fair representation in coaching and front office positions, this is probably still a long time away. One barrier at a time. Changing institutionalized perceptions is a slow process, and Jackie Robinsons come around only every so often. So as tennis goes the way of the Williams sisters; Tiger Woods elevates himself farther and farther above his tennis brethren; and African-Americans continue to smash pigskin myths by demonstrating an aptitude for "thinking" positions like quarterback; those who long for a paler shade of sports are left to take solace for now that not too many folks who aren't greatly reddened by the sun have taken particular interest in ice hockey yet.

Speaking of ice hockey though...

This #Juneteenth, we celebrate the Coloured Hockey League. Founded in Nova Scotia in 1895, the league was formed by the sons and grandsons of escaped slaves, whose innovations helped create hockey as we know it today. pic.twitter.com/tBmoSoxrNB

— NHL (@NHL) June 19, 2020

IMAGINE

Several years back I used to write a monthly sports column for Suite101.com. For a good while after I moved on to other things my collection of articles remained archived there. Eventually the archive was eliminated. Quite a few of my articles were picked up by other outlets so can still be found online, but many of them vanished for good. The majority of these pieces were time sensitive, pertinent to a particular event. But a number of them are relatively timeless because the world of sports, much like the world at large, often operates in a cyclical manner. Yesterday’s news revisits today’s front pages and then fades away only to return again…and again…and again. When I wrote about the relationship between steroids and high profile athletes I did not bother to name names. Sports fans will recognize who I’m referencing in most if not all of the cases. But the names are basically interchangeable, as are the sets of circumstances. The primary difference between them is that some were caught red handed and with others there is a sliver of room for doubt. Ben Johnson, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Marion Jones, Lance Armstrong, Manny Pacquiao, Alex Rodriguez. There have been many others. There will be many others. Tests to catch them will grow increasingly sophisticated. New concoctions will be created to temporarily stay one step ahead of officials. Some athletes will be caught and proven guilty. Some will be caught and acquitted due to lack of sufficient proof. Some will never be officially accused, merely speculated about. Some we’ll remain clueless about. Round and round it goes. And so I’m reprinting IMAGINE here at A Line A Day because even though I wrote it way back in the day, I may as well have written it ten minutes ago…or ten years down the line.

Imagine if you are a fanatic about professional wrestling. You watch with baited breath as your heroes do battle against their arch enemies. The combatants are bigger than life. There is something quite theatrical about their outlandish personalities, costumes, and storylines. The bad guys are so obviously bad, the good guys somehow overcome tremendous adversity and stacked odds to prevail time and time again. Yet nothing about this strikes you as suspicious, much less preposterous. Perhaps you are still too young and naive to be jaded. That will come later. Imagine if you are a true believer in the muscle bound men who defy gravity and logic, only to be told one day that it's staged, a scripted carnival act choreographed for your entertainment. Imagine how you would feel when this deception was brought to light. Imagine the sense of betrayal, the end of your innocence.

If that scenario doesn't disturb you, then try any of the following on for size, because unlike professional wrestling, there has never been any question that these sports are supposed to be for real.

Imagine if you found out that your favorite boxers were on the take, their bouts rigged from the outset by gangsters who control the sport you love. Imagine discovering that your favorite shoeless ballplayer and his teammates were bribed to throw the World Series for fast cash. Imagine if the player you most admired due to his grit and hustle was a gambling addict who bet on his own team's games when he became a manager.

If you can imagine all of that without your heart breaking, then perhaps we should move beyond history and on to current events. Imagine if players in the sport you love are growing bigger, faster, stronger, and better by the day. Imagine if they easily demolish records that had seemed set in stone and capable of withstanding the test of time. Imagine idolizing these men who take to the field of play with their bats and gloves and perform one amazing feat after another. Imagine if you believe you are living in a time when several of the greatest men ever to play the game are simultaneously demonstrating their out-of-this-world abilities, surpassing the milestones of the game's legends. Imagine how exciting this would be. Imagine how riveted and uplifted you would be. Imagine how lucky you would consider yourself to be. Imagine the wonderment that would fill your soul at the crack of the bat and soaring of the ball into the blue yonder.

Imagine now if those many blasts over the right, left, and centerfield fences turn out to have been artificially produced.

Imagine if the world's fastest couple was merely the world's most doped up couple, running not so much on adrenalin as on pharmaceuticals. Imagine if the accusations turn out to be true, that you've been deceived, that the pursuit of excellence you admired was chemically assisted. Imagine if those world records and Olympic medals are tainted.

Imagine if it all turned out to be a mirage, nothing but smoke and mirrors. Imagine if you invested your hopes, lived vicariously through the exploits of these men and women, were crushed by their losses and exhilarated by their victories, only to learn that it is nothing but a drug induced fabrication. Imagine if you come to realize that you have not been witnessing the glorious acts of extraordinary athletes, but rather, the remarkable results of steroid use. Imagine if your role models are proven to be cheaters and liars. Imagine if you no longer feel you can trust your eyes. Imagine if you decide to stop admiring and aspiring to be like these athletes, because they have proven themselves to be little more than con artists. How would you feel?

Imagine.


Points of views other than my own fence straddling one: This article is cynical about intents of the media rather than athletes regarding steroid accusations.

This writer thinks it likely that Usain Bolt (but not Michael Phelps) was the doping star of 2012 Summer Olympics.

Question of the day: Should Pro sports leagues just give up and allow PEDs?

Doing the Crime and the Time

Lately there have been countless discussions taking place around water coolers, online message boards, and in back & forth tweets on Twitter regarding the topic of crime and punishment. Fyodor Dostoyevsky would be so proud. Professional athletes being arrested for various infractions is no new thing, but lately the profile of the players has been especially high, and despite the top notch lawyers they've hired, repercussions are actually being paid. In cases where the legal system did not hand down a stiff penalty, league commissioners have stepped in to lay down the law in a heavier manner. The message stated has been clear. Professional sports leagues are extremely image conscious, quite PR savvy, and the image they wish to project is a relatively wholesome one. We're not supposed to think of steroids or recreational drug use or gunplay in clubs between posses or drunk driving or any other types of reckless, illegal behavior when we see the NFL, NBA, or MLB logos. We're supposed to look at admiration towards superior athletes and all around class guys who at worst may have to deal with some paternity suits in the offseason. Perhaps it was OJ Simpson who got this ball rolling. He famously escaped criminal punishment, at least initially, but it seems as if he was the straw that broke the system's back. After that, preferential treatment for celebrity athletes went out the window, particularly when it came to criminal activity at the more serious end of the spectrum. No doubt ballplayers still get away with speeding through red lights in order to get prime parking in a handicap spot all the time. But if they think they can walk around acting like Billy the Kid or Tony Montana and not end up paying significantly for the damage left in their wake, they would be well advised to think again. Donte Stallworth somehow got away with only having to spend 24 days in jail after killing someone in a drunken hit & run accident. Much public outrage was expressed about this, but that outrage didn't add a single minute to his sentence. The fact that he spent less than a month in prison for killing a man says more about the quirks of our justice system than the fraternal twin powers of money and celebrity. Had Stallworth been a construction worker instead of a NFL player he may have received the same sentence. Then again, had he been a construction worker he might have been able to go right back to his job after leaving jail. But since he works for the NFL, which we've been repeatedly told is a privelege not a right, Stallworth finds himself indefinitely suspended. He may never again play football for an extravagant salary and has no one to blame for this but himself. Michael Vick had to spend a couple years in prison for his crimes, but now that he has paid for them he is being allowed to put pads on once more for a NFL team. In the revolving door between the NFL and prison, just as Vick re-enters the league Plaxico Burress exits stage right to the penitentiary. Carrying a loaded unlicensed weapon into a New York nightclub simply is not a good idea. Taking a self-inflicted bullet that night probably was painless when compared to the 2-year prison sentence he's about to start serving. There's a decent chance that he too will never play in the NFL again. Burress will just have to use the memory of his Super Bowl winning touchdown reception to sustain him on lonely nights. Is there a lesson to be learned from all this? Nothing that isn't so blatant it shouldn't need to be taught in the first place. If you somehow are talented and/or lucky enough to end up with everything you ever dreamed of, stay asleep and drag that dream out for as long as possible. There's nothing waiting for a man in prison but restless nights. So if you're a well paid professional athlete considering illegal activity, I recommend turning the other away and departing from that scene quicker than Usain Bolt.

- By Roy L. Pickering Jr. (author of Patches of Grey)