The fact that he didn’t get elected into the Hall on Tuesday makes the so-called hallowed institution an absolute joke. It also highlights the fragility of human nature, the cracks and flaws of Bonds and those voters who kept him out on his 10th and final year on the ballot.
Hypocrisy runs rampant through
the fabric of America, and the national pastime is no exception.
All men are created equal, yet Black players weren’t allowed in the major leagues until Jackie Robinson broke the color line in 1947. Cheaters aren’t supposed to win, but notorious spitballer Gaylord Perry was inducted into the hall in 1991. Voters make their selections based on players’ performance, in addition to “integrity, sportsmanship, and character;” yet avowed racists such as Kennesaw Mountain – baseball’s first commissioner who upheld the gentleman’s agreement to keep Black players out of the league – and Cap Anson – who refused to play against Black ballplayers – have plaques in the baseball shrine.
“Complicated” is a word that pops
up if you research Landis, Anson, and others
of their ilk. Defenders explain they were men of the era
whose actions appear worse in hindsight (an old, tired excuse – as if there
haven’t been righteous folks calling out racism throughout history). Ok, fine. Hall
of Fame voters could’ve talked about Bonds and all his complexities while
granting his justified spot.
The late Muhammad Ali wasn’t shy about his place in history, even before his historic knockout of Sonny Liston to win the world heavyweight championship in February 1964.
He proclaimed himself “the greatest of all time” before his shocking upset, reiterating it immediately afterward, during that night in Miami and throughout the remainder of his Hall of Fame career. Eventually, the entire world seemed to agree with the three-time champ, who would’ve turned 80 on Jan. 17.
We don’t know how Ali celebrated his 39th birthday, which came three months after a brutal beatdown from his friend and former sparring partner Larry Holmes. But we know Ali was still “The Greatest” for reasons that extend well beyond the ring.
Ali received word that a young man was perched outside the ninth floor of a Los Angeles building and threatening to jump. “Joe” had been there for hours as police officers, a psychologist and a chaplain leaned out a window and begged him to come inside. Whenever anyone got too close, Joe dangled his feet over the side. “I’m no good,” he shouted. “I’m going to jump!”
You can be a fan of NFL football and dislike the NFL.
You can relish the action and the
competition while loathing the machinery behind it. You can be conflicted about
the sport and make peace with enjoying it, but you can’t cheer for “The Shield”
in good conscience unless you’re the heartless, soulless type that roots for
Big Tobacco, Big Pharma, Big Oil, etc.
When uber-talented Antonio
Brown released a statement Wednesday to explain his bizarre, mid-game exit from
the New York Jets-Tampa Bay Buccaneers game, he poked at the discomfort of our relationship,
our Faustian bargain between NFL football and the NFL itself. We know the
league values
profits more than its players, and here was Brown
confirming that reality, saying he was punished for refusing to play through an
ankle injury.
Coach Bruce Arians “ordered me
to get on the field,” Brown said
in the statement. “I said ‘Coach, I can’t.” He didn’t call for
medical attention. Instead he shouted at me, ‘YOU’RE DONE!’ while he ran his
finger across his throat. Coach was telling me if I didn’t play hurt, then I
was done with the Bucs.”
Outrageous, right? That’s exactly
why we can’t cape for the NFL, which blackballed Colin Kaepernick, nurtured Jon
Gruden, and gaslights
us
with “End Racism” and “It Takes All of Us” stickers – as if team owners aren’t
fervent supporters of social injustice. (No, it doesn’t help that other
leagues’ owners are worse.)
Howard Community College esports coach Mark Winkel remembers how he felt after the esports program’s first-ever match in September 2020. The Dragons lost so badly to UCLA, Winkel honestly wondered if they would ever taste victory. But now a new question comes to mind: Can HCC continue to win multiple national championships each year?
The Dragons rebounded from their initial competition to eventually win a pair of titles in the National Esports Collegiate Conference (NECC) – which also made its debut in Fall 2020. Even more impressive, the winning has increased during the second year of the program, adding three more NECC championships in December 2021.
“When I think about everything that has happened in such a short amount of time, it’s shocking,” Winkel says. “When we started out, we just wanted to build a base, to have these teams and get them organized. There was no intention of going out and winning championships right away.”
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