Sports Media Are Still Racist Against Black Athletes

First published by ViceSports.com.  You can link to it here.

Bradley Zimanek, a Montgomery Advertiser columnist, stirred quite the dust-up early this college football season when he suggested that ESPN personality Andre Ware favored Blake Sims as Alabama quarterback because both are black. The column caused a great outcry at the Worldwide Leader and even prompted Ware to go on The Paul Finebaum Show and deny the claim.

The column is flimsy at best, perpetuating the stereotype that black people are monolothic, even robotic in their behavior. One wonders if the author would contemplate whether he, in turn, would favor Sims’ competition Jake Coker simply because he and Coker are both white. Such a statement would be ridiculous, of course. Or would it?

If you believe the research, the problem isn’t broadcasters like Ware lobbying for black athletes. The problem is white broadcasters and sports writers favoring white athletes over black ones. And it has been happening for decades.

It’s not overt. No broadcaster or sportswriter this side of Rush Limbaugh is so self-destructive as to blatantly muse on the suitability of a black quarterback. Rather—and this situation has improved recently— the overwhelmingly white sports media consistently uses terms that enhance the image of white athletes while dismissing black athletes as being over-reliant on their natural gifts. White athletes are smart, hardworking, team players. Black athletes are freaks and beasts who get by on their natural gifts as opposed to their work ethic, which perpetuates the broader stereotype of black people as lazy.

The earliest research on this subject emerged as pro football solidified its hold on TV audiences in the 1970s. A 1977 study by Raymond Rainville and Edward McCormick (Extent of Covert Racial Prejudice in Pro Football Announcers’ Speech) that analyzed NFL broadcasts matched players of different races according to their stats (fantasy football meets content analysis!). They found that white players were more likely to be praised for good plays, while black players were more likely to be criticized for bad plays.

Almost 20 years later, James Rada of Ithaca College studied NFL broadcaster comments, in his study, Color Blind-sided: Racial Bias in Network Television’s Coverage of Professional Football Games. He found that when they described individual players, they would highlight intellect-related qualities for white players, but physical qualities (particularly their appearance) for black players.

In a 2005 follow-up study—Color Coded: Racial Descriptors in Television Coverage of Intercollegiate Sports—Rada looked at college football and basketball games. He again compared comments, but went deeper. His follow-up study actually found that positive comments about the intellect of players were equally distributed. Negative comments about intellect, however, were more often aimed at black players. As for comments about character, again, white athletes received a disproportionate share of positive comments, while black players were more likely to be the focus of negative character comments. And when the athletes were the subject of human interest stories—well, you can imagine which ones got the negative stories.

The situation has improved over the years. Andrew Billings (now at Alabama, then at Clemson) looked at broadcast descriptions of NFL quarterbacks in 2002—a time when black quarterbacks were not only emergent, but also prominent (Donovan McNabb, Michael Vick). In Depicting the Quarterback in Black and White: A Content Analysis of College and Professional Broadcast Commentary, Billings found that while many descriptors were equally distributed, physical skill was the main difference. If a black quarterback succeeded, it was attributed to his physical gifts. (Interestingly, if a white quarterback failed, the same factor was cited—but on the debit side.)

So what’s the big deal, you might ask. If all this talk is stealthy and unintentional we can resist the message, right? Not exactly. The very power of TV exposure is in its long-term subtlety. Considering the society-wide ritual that sports viewing has become, we can safely assume frequent long-term viewing, which means years and decades of having stereotypes quietly drilled into the American subconscious. While it’s tough to measure such impact directly, that doesn’t mean it’s not real.

And don’t think the problem is going away quickly. This kind of racial profiling still emerges in recent studies, and the phenomenon even happens within college sports information offices. A 2010 study led by George Cunningham of Texas A&M (Race Ideology Perpetuated: Media Representations of Newly Hired Football Coaches) looked at releases announcing the hires of new assistant coaches.

The releases were likely to describe white coaches as great strategists, while black coaches were noted for their recruiting skills and relationships with players. Little wonder then that black coaches have a difficult time landing head coaching jobs. The coaching stereotype implies that to hire a minority coach is equivalent to handing the asylum over to the inmates.

Perhaps the recent success of black coaches such as Mike Tomlin, David Shaw, and Kevin Sumlin will finally put such stereotypes to rest. But even Sumlin faced whispers that his coaching success was attributable to talented quarterbacks like Johnny Manziel. Maybe A&M’s success this year will put the final nail in that coffin—Michigan fans certainly are bristling at reports that Sumlin was passed over in favor of Brady Hoke. But at this point, the stereotypes are still kicking around.

Further, realize that these research results are not a byproduct of cherry picking by agenda-driven researchers. Most of these content analysis projects are rigorous, coding many hours of game broadcasts over a broad time span. The data consists of thousands of broadcaster comments —and those folks talk quite a bit. As for specific coding decisions—what’s considered positive and negative, what’s an intellect comment vs. a physicality comment—that is decided early on, and often more than one person codes the content.

Readers, of course, are free to reject the findings of any academic based on their own biases. Climate change isn’t man made, right? Actually, facts are facts and the fact is that black people were once banned from professional and college sports. While participation has equalized—exceeded equalization in some sports—the inheritance of centuries of mistreatment of black people in America endures. One of the many remaining obstacles to true equality—justice even— is lingering in the way people talk about race, even when they don’t realize they are talking about race. The media isn’t responsible for all of this, but it is responsible for closing the gap in its treatment of black athletes.

The Cruel End of Dreams

First published by College and Magnolia (SB Nation). You can link to it here.

As Auburn students begin another school year, and Auburn fans look ahead to football season, the sad reality of Philip Lutzenkirchen’s untimely death will hit home even more. His death was a jolt to the Auburn community, even as it happened over the summer, with many of our students gone.  Social media connected the Auburn family in its mutual grief, while also demonstrating just what Philip meant to the campus and the greater community. For many Auburn students, the first experience with peer loss is a jolt — a dose of the reality that youthful invincibility is ultimately an illusion.

For us faculty and staff — many of whom already are guaranteed decades more than these lives lost too soon — it is a jolt as well, a reminder of an uncomfortable truth: Young people, current and recent students, die.

The odds turn on them with cruel randomness, and they die in car wrecks or as crime victims.

Their struggle with terminal illness lacks the ultimate triumph.

An undiagnosed condition steals in and steals life.

The substance abuse they thought they could control proves otherwise.

And some mistakenly decide that ending their own lives is preferable to living with the pain.

As faculty and staff members find ourselves within a grieving community, it is our responsibility to help the students grapple, even as we struggle in our own way.  It doesn’t get easier with practice.

In 1997, while I was at Campbell University, a freshman wrestler, Billy Saylor, 19, died while trying to cut weight for a tournament.  He was one of three wrestlers who would die that way within a month.  It led to stricter weight-cutting guidelines from the NCAA.

As word of his death spread across campus that Friday (it had happened late the previous evening), life also seemed to stop at the small campus.  It was a day of talking to students, worrying about the teammate who was there when Billy died, facing the Raleigh, N.C., media barrage.

As I watched the 6 o’clock news, it struck me.  The worst thing that happened was that Billy’s dreams had died with him.  Becoming a champion wrestler, marrying his high school girlfriend, whatever career he was aiming for — the dreams were gone too.

I remember verbalizing a question to myself: Why did God give me and not Billy Saylor November 7, 1997 (and about 6,000 more days after that)?  It seemed unfair.

The answer that came back — we could debate the source — was that I could find the answer to that question in each day that followed.  That also became my vow, and it has continued through my 11 years on the faculty at Auburn.

But more than that, the experience changed how I looked at my students.  No longer were they 85 percent fun, 15 percent why-don’t-you-listen-to-what-I’m-trying-to teach you (with the 15 percent dominating).

Instead, they became conveyors of something precious — their dreams and goals.  My vocation, besides getting them to look up spellings and AP style rules and gather and structure information, was to bring them closer to those dreams, by whatever means. Even a change to a new major, if necessary.

Over the past 17 years, I’ve tried to keep that thought before me.  Yes, sometimes students make it difficult, when they don’t seem to have many dreams beyond the next Wednesday night Toomers Corner pub crawl.  Sometimes they have to be reminded that unlike animals who eat, sleep, breed, and annoy other animals, they have the capacity to aspire to make their lives better and to simply be better.

I also know that each student is a treasure to someone, even one parent or a sibling or an aunt/uncle.  And that treasure is committed to Auburn University — with fear and trust, but mostly fear — for the next 4-plus years.  Our job is to return that treasure with something valuable, increased knowledge, so that society can benefit as well.

In spring of 2007, after the horrific shootings at Virginia Tech, I attended an on-campus vigil Auburn students conducted in front of Samford Hall.  I saw one of my students, Megan, there.  I wondered how her parents felt after realizing that twenty-seven families had lost the students they had sent to Virginia Tech.

After the vigil, I put my arm around Megan and said, “For all that we (faculty) give you guys a hard time, it would devastate me if anything like this happened to you.”

In the seven years since, students have died.  A suicide in February brought two of his fellow students to my office with questions of whether they could have done more.  We couldn’t know.  All we knew was that his pain overrode everything else in his life, including his dreams for his life and his parents who considered him their treasure.

And when a 23-year-old recent Auburn football player dies in a wreck on a rural Georgia road, it brings it home again.  Why did God give me and not Philip Lutzenkirchen July 30, 2014, and the days that followed?

As I said, I don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know that I will find it in each day that follows.  And I know that a big part of that answer involves my students, and their dreams.

Face WHOSE Music?

Disclosure: Auburn journalism faculty member and season ticket holder here. You can judge from this and other writing if I live up to my claim of promoting responsible journalism over fandom.

Coach Gus Malzahn’s decision to remove quarterback Nick Marshall from Auburn’s SEC Media Days roster for today met with much disappointment.

The decision came after Marshall was cited on Friday in Georgia for marijuana possession. (“Cited, not arrested” became something of a mantra.)

Those who criticized claimed that it would be more appropriate for Marshall to “face the music” from the media in attendance today and that his appearance would “clear the air.”  Now, they say, the story will not go away.

This concept of the media as some kind of required ordeal for a college athlete to endure troubles me.  No doubt it derives from the media’s traditional role as a watchdog.

A public official might need to “face the music” of a press conference after investigative reporting or government inquiry reveals misdeeds that demand response.  A watchdog press is representing the citizenry in asking tough questions that need to be asked.

In other cases, however, the demand for someone to “face the music” also presumes a lot.  Here, most of that presumption comes from the media members who demand it who are demanding a go at Marshall.

With this story, there is no dogged investigative reporting.  The information might be entertaining to the audience, and First Amendment-protected.  But for many (but not all, I stress) of those who will be in attendance, this is an easy story that dropped in their laps and will give them the opportunity to hound a young athlete.  A textbook Media Days circus.

That circus dominates at a situation like this.  The serious questions of a young man who allowed what could be a storybook season to devolve into preseason drama?

Too weighty for an unethical credentialed amateur wishing to make a name for himself/herself with a condescending question sure to get meme’d, GIF’ed, and Vined.

The preseason drama beast demands fresh meat, and if Auburn will not feed Marshall to the beast, it’s more convenient to blame the school than to turn and address that annoying beast.

Some have compared this to the Jameis Winston story (the sexual assault accusations, NOT the crab legs caper).  The two don’t match up.

First, the Winston story has grown beyond FSU, though crucial questions still remain, to address a nationwide culture in which colleges mishandle sexual assault allegations, particularly where athletes are involved.

Second, Winston has not been charged in the incident, so any questions of his own involvement would be futile, given the competent legal advice he and anyone in a similar situation would receive.  If the story had broken three days of head of ACC’s media days, a similar decision would have been wise.

(Though I would add here that I supported Heather Cox’s questioning of Winston on ESPN after the ACC championship game.  Her questions were relevant, and he was handling them well until whisked away.)

Would an appearance by Marshall have defused the story?  Will the story continue from here, as many claim?  That question will be answered by the sports media members from here.

In the absence of new information, the story survives only if the media continue to serve it up under the pretense of new angles.

Nick Marshall will speak to these accusations, and he certainly should.  But at a venue like Media Days (too much) a mere three days after (too soon), not a wise decision.

And if it deprives some in the media of an easy target for a quick take — that’s not a problem worth solving.