When I moved to Fort Myers, Fla., in 2000 to write a thrice-weekly sports column, I quickly learned that the city’s most famous athlete had a rocky relationship with his hometown and the local media.
Deion Sanders was born and raised in that city, once deemed America’s most segregated, where the railroad depot kept whites and Blacks separated into the 1970s. Back in town while starring at Florida State in the mid-’80s, Sanders was arrested at a mall for allegedly trying to steal. He was arrested again in Fort Myers — in 1996 when he played for the Dallas Cowboys — for trespassing and fishing on a private lake at the airport.
He generally never trusted city leaders, the cops or the media.
YouTube sensation Jake Paul vows to knock Mike Tyson out. Such bravado is typical at media events to hype a boxing match, often followed by the fighters standing inches apart and glaring before one shoves the other or throws a punch. Tyson and Paul pushed and jabbed playfully Sunday after promoting their November bout, previously scheduled for July but postponed when Tyson suffered an ulcer flareup. The former heavyweight champion says he’s fully recovered and resumed training a few weeks ago. “It’s happening,” he said at the press conference in New York. “I’m ready.”
Paul promised to give Tyson “his end in boxing” and “discipline you like a son,” calling him an “old-ass motherf—-r.”
Which brings us to the actual problem: This officially sanctioned match could be tantamount to elder abuse before it ends.
I learned that America was exceptional at an early age, way before high school. There was the United States, nation of no wrongs, followed by every other country. Despite the treatment of Native Americans and Mexicans, kidnapped Africans and late-19th-century immigrants from Ireland and Italy (before they were granted white privilege), we were No. 1! It said so right in the textbook.
As an avid sports fan during childhood, I didn’t question the concept of American exceptionalism. We clearly were the bomb in a geo-political sense. But the NBA and NFL bemused me by using “world champions” to describe their title winners. Major League Baseball, presumptuous to the max, went further by calling its championship the “World Series.”
As a young’un, I thought we were tripping. Team USA sprinter Noah Lyles still feels that way as a 27-year-old Olympic gold medalist.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered a lecture entitled “The Other America” in March 1968, outlining our nation’s schizophrenic dualism. “There are two Americas,” he proclaimed.
U.S. sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos demonstrated as much six months later, each raising a gloved fist for Black power while “The Star-Spangled Banner” played at the Mexico City Olympics. The Summer Games have been our time to make a statement since 1904 when hurdler George Coleman Poage became the first African-American to win an Olympic medal. And ain’t nothing changed.
Sports contain metaphors for life and lessons on commitment, sacrifice, winning and handling defeat. They’re taught in a universal language that’s understood by every athlete around the world. But extraterrestrial visitors would have a skewed picture of the United States if their observations were based solely on Team USA.
Men’s gymnastics has always taken a backseat to the women’s version, which routinely produces bevies of international champions from these United States. We’ve now reached the point where Black Girl Magic has become a thing in the sport — from Dominque Dawes in 1992 and Gabby Douglass in 2012, to the incomparable Simone Biles since 2016 — while the men have remained mostly obscure and devoid of color.
Frederick Richard was born for this moment.
Just 20 years old, he finds his life’s purpose and childhood dream intersecting in Paris, with growing anticipation for another crossover at the Los Angeles Olympics in four years. By then, he’ll be further along in his mission, a task some athletes might avoid but he embraces with gusto.
Our oldheads
have shined and hung around for so long – LeBron James played in his first
Olympic Games 20 years ago – now they’ll compete against a new
world order before finally calling it quits. James (39),
Steph Curry (36) and Kevin Durant (35) might have a couplefew NBA seasons left in
their tanks, but they’ll be chilling in the wings offstage when the Summer
Games reach Los Angeles in 2028.
James
is the last link to Team USA’s last failure in men’s basketball, when we won bronze
at the 2004 Olympics. It’s unfair to say third place equals failing, but such
is life for our national team, which has dominated since turning to NBA talent in
1992. James was a teenaged sensation in 2004, the only time the U.S. failed
to win gold with pro players.
The U.S. can accept losing in sports like badminton and field hockey, but it believes in basketball supremacy like manifest destiny, like America is preordained to sit atop the world’s hoops hierarchy. We showed them with the “Dream Team” in 1992, unleashing Magic Johnson, Larry Bird and Michael Jordan on the awestruck and overmatched opponents.
Nearly half of the WNBA season
remains, another two months left on the schedule. That’s plenty of time for a player
to get hot or go cold, ample time to post historic numbers or hit a wall. But
why wait until the end when we can argue about Rookie of the Year right now?
Who ya got?
Two clear frontrunners have
emerged and it’s no surprise that Indiana Fever guard Caitlin Clark is the
odds-on favorite ahead of Chicago Sky forward Angel Reese. Clark was virtually
anointed as MVP entering the league so winning ROY was supposed to be a given. Over-exuberant
fans and media have acted like breathing too hard on Clark should be called a foul.
Brown-nosing blowholes like Jason Whitlock suggest so-called jealous players could
conspire
to cheat and boost Reese’s chances of winning the award.
The “back in my day” crowd never dies. It’s reproduced generation after generation, filled with members who diminish and dismiss “kids these days.”
There’s no shortage of complaints from the old school. Life was harder but they’re better off as a result: tougher, smarter and more disciplined. They understood concepts like decency and order, had better fashion sense and possessed a superior work ethic. The old way was always right even when grownups were abusive. Eff your feelings.
That must’ve been MyKayla Skinner’s mindset recently when she criticized the gymnasts — except Simone Biles – on Team USA’s 2024 Olympics squad. Skinner, who despite her first name has zero melanin, won a silver medal in the 2020 Tokyo Games and didn’t try out this time. At 27 years old, she’s ancient for a gymnast, and she sounded like a geezer late last month on a since-deleted two-hour YouTube livestream:
There’s never been a better time for young athletes with the potential to play in college. And life keeps getting sweeter for them.
After gaining the right to monetize their name, image and likeness (NIL) three years ago, athletes like Colorado quarterback Shedeur Sanders and teammate Travis Hunter have deals worth millions. Last month, Florida joined over 30 states that give high school athletes the same right to make NIL money.
In May, the NCAA and five power conferences agreed to a $2.8 billion settlement that allows schools to make direct payments to players, which has been taboo since the NCAA’s founding in 1906. If the deal stands, young athletes will enjoy dual revenue streams, checks from school and checks from sponsors.
They enjoyed another victory last week, easing a concern for those who indulge: The NCAA no longer bans weed.
LeBron James must really be the greatest of all time. He’s the only NBA player in history who persuaded his team to sign his son so they can hoop together.
Take that, Michael Jordan.
I still have MJ as the GOAT. But I can’t help marveling at LeBron’s remarkable journey, which now overlaps with his oldest son’s path. Bronny James became the most famous second-round pick ever when the Los Angeles Lakers selected him 55th overall in Thursday’s draft.
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