Sports are about more than statistics, scores or star performances. In some ways, athletics reflect society. At times they bind us tighter, and at others they break down barriers that politicians could not do with the full force of law.
That might seem over-dramatic but consider integration in the South during the 1970s. Alabama was led by two men, Governor George “segregation today, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever” Wallace and Paul “Bear” Byrant, the head football coach at the University of Alabama.
In 1970 the Crimson Tide played against the University of Southern California in a game arranged by Bryant, and it just so happened that the Trojans fullback was the electric Sam Cunningham, an African American.
As noted by Tom Berenger in his book “The Junction Boys,” Cunningham steamrolled Alabama in a 42-21 romp, and Byrant integrated his team the next year with — and get this — the help of the University.
“All the good old boys could later laugh and say that old Sam Cunningham did more to integrate Alabama in 30 minutes than Martin Luther King did in 16 years,” Berenger noted.
The integration of the Crimson Tide was by no means a cure-all, but it set the stage for progress in Southern society as a whole.
As far as the connective power of sports, we all know the feeling. When Landon Donavon busted up the sideline in stoppage time against Algeria in the 2010 World Cup to score and keep the United States alive. When Michael Phelps’ fingertips, against all odds, got to the wall first in the 2008 Olympics keeping his chase for eight gold medals alive.
When Chris Gaschen lofted that oh-so-pretty ball in the upper 90 against the dreaded Gauchos last October.
As an unbiased reporter, I would never admit that I rushed the field … or that it was my favorite moment from freshman year.
Something about that collective experience, whether it be running into someone wearing your team’s gear in an opposing stadium or chanting “CAL” and “POLY” back and forth across the field, is unique to sports.
Above it all, sports writing is about the examination of people. People with extreme talent, people whose competitive spirit often causes them to think differently than your average student, but people with ideas and problems nonetheless.
Pat Tillman turned away from millions to fight for his country after he witnessed the atrocity of September 11, 2001. He was rewarded by being turned into propaganda, thrown into a different war he did not believe in and, ultimately, he made the ultimate sacrifice.
Just an athlete? Just a jock who thought he’d shoot some guns? I do not think so. Pat Tillman had a story, he had beliefs that, while applicable to athletics, applied to a far greater set of circumstances.
My goal as sports editor is this. After reading a story I want you to ask: “Is this about sports or is this about more?” If you ask that, I have been successful.
And that goal, not the press passes, the free hot dogs at baseball games or the front row seats, makes my job the best in the newsroom.