If we’re being honest, most people couldn’t pick Las Vegas Aces star A’ja Wilson out of a police lineup. Not because she’s Black, but because top WNBA players don’t enjoy the same widespread recognition afforded to their NBA counterparts.
New York Liberty star Breanna Stewart, another two-time MVP, is white and few people could point her out, either.
Wilson and Stewart stand out as unusually tall women — both 6 foot, 4 inches — but otherwise barely draw second looks in a crowd. Women’s basketball historically hasn’t attracted large enough national TV audiences to create many A-list celebrities.
For far too long in too many
places, too many Black boys have dreamed too much of becoming two things: athletes
or rappers. Not white-collar professionals or blue-collar workers. Not small
business owners or government officials. Not firefighters, EMTs or the po-po.
It’s a problem with no easy
answers or quick fixes. Athletes and rappers are leading role models even when their
comportment is less than desirable. Doctors and lawyers don’t act right at
times, either, but their disputes are less likely to become fodder for multimedia
content.
That’s not the case with Hall-of-Fame athletes-turned-broadcasters Shaquille O’Neal and Shannon Sharpe, who slipped into Drake-Kendrick mode last week.
LeBron James is still among us and he still commands a lion’s share of NBA attention. But successors to his throne are circling, particularly in Minnesota, where 22-year-old Anthony Edwards is introducing himself to the public at large. “Ant Man” is here and he’s looking like “Thee Man.”
LeBron James, Stephen Curry and
Kevin Durant suffered quick exits from the NBA postseason, but their ability to
hoop remains exquisite. They routinely hold their own and more, putting up
numbers against players 15 years younger. No one denies that James, Curry and Durant,
among all-time greats, are still elite at their craft.
Frankly, it’s amazing how well they continue to play at this stage, James at 39, Curry 36 and Durant 35. They’re our “OG3,” ballers we’ve enjoyed from Day 1 when they arrived with fanfare. But they’re virtually ancient in NBA terms. And it appears their time is up.
The saying “don’t hate the player, hate the game” has some merit, specifically the second half. There’s no denying that the American system is rigged and worthy to be loathed, historically and often currently telling us to get back simply because we’re Black.
But there’s no automatic, blanket
approval for the saying’s first segment. Some “players” are totally reckless in
how they roll, wilding out against their skinfolk and other folks. There’s no
love here for those who lie, steal and kill to get ahead, while the rest of us do
our best within the jacked-up rules.
So I completely agree if former
Iowa star Caitlin Clark says don’t hate her.
That’s your inquiry when
arriving at a pickup game in progress. Then you ask if spots remain on the upcoming
team(s). If not, it’s your moment to make the game’s most declarative off-court
statement:
Opponents of Black history try
to whitewash our existence and minimize our contributions, but accurately reporting
America’s past is impossible without us.
Haters must pick and choose which
Black people to acknowledge and highlight, preferably those who achieved the
so-called American dream without making white people uncomfortable. As the
first person killed in the American Revolution, Crispus
Attucks is a fine Black man to honor. So is Booker
T. Washington, whose agrarian brand of racial progress always
seemed less threatening than the scholarly version W.E.B.
Du Bois espoused.
The world of sports is full of Black heroes that historians can’t ignore, though it helps when the athlete ignores societal conditions. Best if they focus on the vacuum – the field or the court – not the racism afflicting their non-athletic kinfolk. Barred from mainstream pro sports leagues well into the 20th century, we started dotting the landscape before the civil rights era peaked. Jackie Robinson broke the color line in Major League baseball in 1947.
Orenthal James Simpson was born three months later.
Until a few years ago, March Madness instantly brought men’s college basketball to mind among the general public, well conditioned to follow the cultural phenomenon for its office pools if nothing else.
The concurrent women’s national tournament? It was a mere afterthought, treated like a shabby property used for tax write-offs. The NCAA didn’t improve accommodations or extend March Madness branding for the women’s tournament until glaring discrepancies were uncovered in August 2021.
Now the women are kicking the men’s ass in popularity and TV ratings.
Iowa star Caitlin Clark got
her revenge on LSU star Angel Reese, surely enthralling goo-gobs of white folks
who viewed Monday’s Elite Eight matchup through a racial lens. I certainly
understand their glee in watching Reese get her comeuppance for taunting Clark
in last year’s NCAA championship game.
Clark is their darling, the
biggest star in women’s college basketball – which currently is far hotter than
the men’s version. ESPN reports that Iowa’s 94-87 victory drew 12.3 million
viewers, the
most ever in women’s college hoops. Last year’s tilt set the
previous record, 9.9 million viewers, when Reese pointed to an imaginary ring and
waved “you-can’t-see-me” as Iowa lost the title game.
Reese was demonized and caricatured afterward, becoming a target for anti-Black sentiment from haters of every stripe. Meanwhile, Clark continued her path as America’s sweetheart and a national phenom, setting numerous records on the court and at the box office.
Sophomore Madison Seipp, a history major, typically isn’t attracted
to courses that involve engineering or the environment.
“Those are not two fields I’m usually interested in,” she
says. But Seipp signed up for “Engineering, Empire & Environment” anyway,
figuring “this must be a cool class” because it was taught by Alison Fletcher,
the W. Newton & Hazel A. Long Professor of History.
The course, which Seipp says indeed was cool, exemplifies Juniata offerings that embrace hands-on use of sophisticated technology and touch multiple disciplines, integrating liberal arts principles into technical fields. Fletcher decided to teach it in response to Juniata’s burgeoning civil engineering program.
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