CFP 2021: COLLEGE FOOTBALL’S PLAYOFFS -- STORY LINES AND THE SAME OLD STORY

On the last day of 2021, college football presents the semifinals of this season’s

playoffs. Though the CFP may expand and eventually include eight or even 12 teams, for now we have four. Despitetwo first time participants and another that hasn’t won a title, betting people likely see a familiar face – Alabama coach Nick Saban – hoisting the trophy on January 10 in Indianapolis.
                   
December 31’s semifinals match Alabamaagainst path breaking Cincinnati in one game and, in the other, two bluebloods with something to prove. Alabama meets the upstart Bearcats in what’s technically the Cotton Bowl in Arlington, Texas. Georgia and Michigan play the other semi in Miami in a game otherwise known as the Orange Bowl.They’re intriguing contests, but those hoping somebody other than Alabama wins it all probably must wait at least another year. We say “at least” because people who know college football think Alabama will have a better team next year than this year’s edition which struggled through late-season close calls against LSU, Arkansas, and Auburn and lost to Texas A&M.

Alabama-Cincinnati: Thinking the Unthinkable

By beating Georgia in the Southeastern Conference championship game, Alabamaearned the number one seed in the tournament and a game against fourth seeded Cincinnati. The Bearcats broke the glass ceiling by becoming the first Group of Five (American Athletic Conference, Mountain WestConference, Mid-America Conference, Sun Belt Conference, Conference-USA) member picked for the CFP.  Schools in these conferences play solid football, produce NFL prospects, and nurture successful coaches. They play, however, in smaller stadiums, attract less television exposure, and survive on thriftier budgets. When they play a team from the Power Five (Big 10, Pacific 12, Atlantic Coast Conference, Big 12, Southeastern Conference, plus Independent Notre Dame), they usually lose, sometimes by a lot.                                         

But not always. Group of Five teams do beat Power Five teams. Brigham Young, an independent often thought of and comparedwith Group of Five teams, in 2021 posted a 5-0 record against Pac 12 competition.  Cincinnati defeated Notre Dame in South Bend, 24-13, and stopped Big 10 member Indiana in Bloomington, 38-24, at a time the Hoosiers were still getting Top 25 votes.
Cincinnati’s near miss against Georgia in lastyear’s Peach Bowl encourages some in thinking the Bearcats could topple the Tide. Georgia won, 24-21, on a 53-yard field goal with :03 left. Given how that unfolded, and this year’s wins over Indiana and Notre Dame, Cincinnati’s players shouldn’t feel intimidated about facing Alabama.

Despite less than convincing wins over Navy, Tulsa, and Tulane, Cincinnati has talent throughout its lineup.  First, there’s quarterback Desmond Ridder, who hasengineered two straight undefeated regular seasons. Ridder is good enough that some NFL team might make him the first quarterback off the board next April, especially since this quarterback draft class lacks last year’s overall talent and depth. After Ridder, Cincinnati hastwo outstanding cornerbacks – Ahmad “Sauce” Gardner and Coby Bryant. Both are tall and fast and will pose a challenge for the Tide receivers. Alabama likely won’t have the dangerous John Metchie because of a knee injury suffered in the SEC Championship game. Cincinnati, therefore, may have a chance at throttling the Alabama passing game led byHeisman Trophy winning quarterback Bryce Young.  Finally, Cincinnati has athletic, 300-pound linemen who give the Bearcats the look of a high level, Power Five football team.

So, with all this, why is Alabama a two-touchdown favorite? Because Alabama has Nick Saban and Cincinnati doesn’t.

Michigan – Georgia: Exorcists Needed

Aside from the really good teams Michigan and Georgia have and aside from the tradition each represents in college football (Michigan has more victories than any other program), the intrigue around this game centers on the redemption both coaches seek. Before thisyear, Michigan hadn’t been to the CFP (Alabama has missed only once and has won three times). Georgia has been to the CFP, but suffered an excruciating 26-23 overtime loss to Alabama in 2017.

This year, in fact, has been something of a redemption tour for Michigan coach Jim Harbaugh. Brought to Ann Arbor from the NFLwith great fanfare, he’s been seen by many as a disappointment. Until this year’s team took down arch rival Ohio State, Harbaugh had lost to the hated Buckeyes five years in a row. He’s gotten the Wolverines to bowl games, but none in the CFP and not to the Big 10’s cherished consolation prize, the Rose Bowl. Harbaugh can exorcise ghosts by beating Georgia, then take his chances against Alabama, assuming a Tide win in the semifinals.

Georgia’s Kirby Smart occupies the same boat, but for different reasons. He’s won 81% of his games in six seasons in Athens. There’s one problem.  He can’t beat Alabama. Despitetop notch recruiting class after top notch recruiting class, Smart has zero victories over the Tide. This was supposed to be the year he put all that to bed.  Georgia dominated everyone they played – until Alabama. That loss resurrected the old story lines.
                                     

What else can we say? Let the games begin!        

 

A DEEPER DIVE INTO THE N-WORD: DISTURBING HISTORY/TROUBLING PRESENT

In our last post we expressed the idea that perhaps today’s racists should abandon their fake civility and speak like they think and act. We noted thatcurrent day racists don’t regularly use the n-word in public, unlike their more obviously racist predecessors, who often did. The thought occurred to us that we should take a deeper dive into the history of this racial slur. Maybe we could explain there isn’t any difference between the fake civility of Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, Texas Governor Greg Abbott, and Fox News host Tucker Carlson and 1960s era segregationists like Mississippi Senator Jim Eastland, South Carolina Senator Strom Thurmond, and Alabama Governor George Wallace. The words differ, but the policies are the same – voter suppression, gerrymandering, and fearmongering that prevent the accumulation of black (and brown) political power and quash challenges to white supremacy.

 

‘The Atom Bomb of Racial Slurs’

In the O.J. Simpson trial, prosecutor Christopher Darden called the n-word “the filthiest, nastiest word in the English Language.” One British Member of Parliament (MP) termed it “the most offensive word in English.”  Harvard law professor Randall Kennedy dubbed it the “atomic bomb of racial slurs” because “if you want to put somebody down, analogize them to the [n-word].”  These characterizations of the n-word haven’t stopped its use in contemporary society, on either side of the Atlantic.

Just in 2017, Diane Abbott, a Labor Party MP of African descent, described being repeatedly referred to by the n-word on social media and in e-mails from members of the public.  In the United States in 2016 a Charlotte, North Carolina television journalist was reporting on a hurricane when a man walked by and dropped the n-word on him. Donald Trump’s election as president spurred numerous accounts of racial slurs, including the n-word, being hurled at public school students.

 

History

Where did the n-word come from and how did it become the slur it’s now recognized as?  Scholars seemingly agree that the word originated around 1619 with the arrival of the first African slaves in what’s now the United States. The slaves were referred to by the Spanish and Portuguese term for “black.” The word—N-I-G-G-U-H-S—for a time was seen as merely descriptive, but before long it became derogatory. By the 1820s and 1830s, white people had begun using it as a way of admonishing children not to engage in certain behavior. It became a widely recognized epithet aimed at making black people feel inferior and unworthy. As one British professor observed, “It’s really tied into the idea that African people aren’t really human beings.”

 

Substitutes

It’s clear that much of the public now won’t stand

for use  of the n-word. The BBC, for example, received over 18,600 complaints about a July 2020 story that included the word in an account of a racially aggravated attack. Scrubbing the word from accepted public discourse, however, hasn’t prevented racists from getting their racial message across. Consider:

•       In 2014 then-National Football League star Richard Sherman noted that he’d been called a “thug” and “ghetto” for a rant he went on about events in an NFL game.  Sherman said such terms had become “the accepted way of calling somebody the n-word.”

•       Beginning in the 1980s with Ronald Reagan, code words like “welfare queen” in essence became a surrogate for the n-word as conservative political figures put a black face on abuse of public assistance programs.

•       “States’ rights” was a favorite term of southern politicians in the ‘60s in opposing civil rights measures. Reagan gave that term new life by opening his 1980 general election campaign in Mississippi in the same county where three civil rights workers were murdered in 1964. The n-word wasn’t used in his speech, but it was an undercurrent of his message.

•       Reagan’s vice president, George H.W. Bush, saved his 1988 presidential campaign with the infamous Willie Horton ad that put a black face on crime. The ad didn’t use the n-word, but it wasn’t needed. His base got the message.     

Former NBA star Charles Barkley was once quoted as saying many people “don’t have enough courage to say the n-word, so they say things like ‘thug’ or ‘street cred.’” Even if Barkley is controversial as a social commentator, he’s not wrong about this.  Many people won’t say the n-word in public, but their policy preferences get the message across.

We’d prefer a world in which people didn’t use the n-word. What we really prefer is a world in which

people  didn’t think the thoughts that lead to the n-word.  In advocating an end to false civility and for honesty about the n-word, we’re really suggesting that what we’d like to know is where people stand. If they won’t stand with us in opposition to racial oppression, we prefer seeing who they are and understanding how they think.  As we said before, talk like you think and act. It was clear to everyone what racists believed and meant when they used the n-word.  That had the benefit of letting the rest of us identify them.

REPUBLICANS V. DEMOCRATS: A MATTER OF CELEBRITY

 

Both major political parties are lining up candidates

for next year’s elections. Anyone who made a political contribution during 2020 has probably been inundated with fundraising letters, e-mails, and text messages from 2022 campaigns.  We see a defining difference between the kinds of candidates emerging for Republicans and Democrats. Republicans very often present celebrities.

Democrats more often offer independent-minded candidates with roots in social and community movements. We find the difference fascinating.

Many states have spring filing deadlines and potential candidates continue making decisions about whether they’ll seek office. But, fundraising and campaign infrastructure require time. The clock is ticking, especially for high profile statewide races.

The Tuberville Model

Tommy Tuberville enjoyed a successful career as a college football coach, including at Auburn. Now

thanks to the celebrity that went along with that, Alabama’s inherent red hue, and Tuberville’s allegiance to Donald Trump, he’s a United States Senator. Tuberville brought no political or governing experience to his 2020 race against Democratic incumbent Doug Jones.  He campaigned carefully and said little about any issue. Tuberville’s case rested on the fact he’s a Republican (and, therefore, not a Democrat), he enjoyed Trump’s support, and name recognition from coaching. We aren’t saying he wasn’t qualified, but he never said much about what his qualifications were.  He spoke in generalities,

espousing well-worn right wing talking points. His record to date reflects little except following directions from Trump and Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell.      

That strategy – sports-based celebrity, support of

and from Trump, and keeping quiet beyond platitudes – rests at the heart of legendary running back Herschel’s Walker’s bid for the U.S. Senate in Georgia. Walker hopes he can unseat Democrat

Raphael Warnock, the Baptist minister who won a runoff in January for the unexpired term of retired Republican Johnny Isakson.

Walker has two potential Republican primary opponents, but he’s a strong favorite to win the GOP nomination thanks to his celebrity and his relationship with Trump. Before his time in the National Football League, Walker played for the New Jersey Generals of the United States Football League, a team Trump owned. Relying on their USFL relationship, at the 2020 Republican convention Walker vigorously rejected the idea Trump is a racist.  

Like Tuberville, Walker presents no governing or political experience. He also carries quite a bit of baggage, including allegations of violence toward women, some of which he admitted in his memoir. That makes some Republicans nervous, but most political operatives believe the nomination is his to lose. Also like Tuberville,  he’s keeping a low

profile, dodging interview requests except from friendly outlets like Fox News. Assuming Walker wins the primary, smoking him out likely will become Warnock’s first task in an expensive, high stakes race.

 

Fame Via Media

People who’ve earned fame through media have become another source of Republican candidates. Take J.D. Vance, author of the  acclaimed Hillbilly

Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis. The book spent good parts of 2016 and 2017 on the New York Times best seller list. It made Vance, a former Marine turned Yale Law School graduate, wealthy and famous.  Now he’s seeking the U.S. Senate seat held by retiring Republican Rob Portman.

 

Vance caused a stir in 2016 by slamming Trump as “reprehensible” and saying his policy proposals, “such as they are range from immoral to absurd.” Now faced with the GOP primary electorate in Ohio, Vance has gotten religion. He says Trump was a good president and he regrets the nasty things he said about him.  Having repented, Vance’s celebrity helps make him the favorite in some quarters for the Republican senate nomination.  His political career now represents just another case of elevating expediency over principle.

Oh, and we can’t forget another recent candidate who made his name through the media.  Larry Elder got more votes than any of the other would-be replacements for California Governor Gavin Newsome in the failed September recall election. Elder spent over 25 years as a radio talk show host before seeking the California governor’s chair. His failure hasn’t dissuaded celebrity GOP candidates long on name identity and short on political experience as the Walker and Vance bids attest.

A Different Way for Democrats

The likely contenders for Democratic nominations for U.S. Senate in states like Pennsylvania and

Ohio are men and women with political experience. In Pennsylvania, Lt. Governor John Fetterman and Congressman Conor Lamb lead the way. In Ohio, Congressman and former presidential

candidate Tim Ryan and one-time  Consumer Protection Bureau adviser Morgan Harper probably have the inside track, though others might emerge.

Beyond that, intriguing Democratic newcomers elsewhere spring from social movements aimed at

promoting change. One of the most impactful freshman members of Congress has been Missouri Representative Cori Bush. A registered nurse and minister, she’s led the fight against COVID-related evictions, even sleeping on the U.S. Capitol steps to make her

point. Georgia Representative Lucy McBath ran for Congress so she could

work on gun safety following the shooting death of her son by a man angry about loud music. Transportation Secretary

Pete Buttigeg ran for president because he wanted to be president, but also so he could show that an openly gay man could seek the nation’s highest office.

The motivations and styles of figures like Bush, McBath, and Buttigeg seem much different than the celebrity-based campaigns of the Walkers and Elders of the world. These more independent minded candidates have bucked their own party, not just followed it. Their approach seems more likely to discourage the rush toward autocracy Trump and Republicans now seem hell bent on promoting. 

                                            

GEORGE FLOYD, DREW BREES, TEACHING, AND READING ASSIGNMENTS: THE EDUCATION OF WHITE AMERICA ABOUT RACE

George Floyd’s family buried him June 9 after

services in Minneapolis, North Carolina, and Houston. The trauma his murder caused his family, African Americans generally, and many whites continues. Since we can’t discuss all the things that surfaced from the Floyd case, we’ve picked one we think urgent and interesting: talk between African Americans and whites about race.

The three of us see value in African Americans engaging whites on race. Some African Americans think that’s a waste of time, offering some version of, “Educating white people about race isn’t our responsibility. They should figure it out for themselves.” Those arguing that note it’s been tried for years with disappointing results. We understand the underlying frustration, but we hold a different view.

Drew Brees: Tone Deaf

We can’t find a better example of why we think engaging white Americans on race makes sense than the case of New Orleans Saints quarterback Drew Brees. After Floyd’s death, Brees clung to the familiar talking point that he could “never agree with anyone disrespecting” the flag when asked about his feelings now on former San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick and kneeling during the national anthem. Because Brees counts as a “good guy,” his comments showing he didn’t get it felt worse than had they come from a source known for insensitivity. His community service record in predominately black New Orleans suggested he understood better than many white NFL players the need for recognizing the impact of racism on African Americans. He led Katrina recovery efforts, donated millions for feeding the hungry during the pandemic, and helped rebuild parks and playgrounds.

Black NFL players, including his Saints teammates, pushed back. They said Kaepernick’s protest had nothing to do with the flag or the military, which Brees referenced in mentioning the Second World War service of his grandfathers. San Francisco defensive back Richard Sherman tweeted, “He’s beyond lost. Guarantee you there were black men fighting alongside your grandfather, but this doesn’t seem to be about that. That uncomfortable conversation you are trying to avoid by injecting military into conversation about brutality and equality is part of the problem.”

Brees apologized, saying he was “sick about the way my comments were perceived,” and

that his “insensitive” statements “completely missed the mark on the issues we are facing now as a country.” San Francisco Chronicle columnist Ann Killion wrote that his apology “felt late…Four years late.”

It Is About Race

The Brees story illustrates how even well-intentioned white people convert discussions

of racial animus into discussions about something else. “This isn’t about race” we’ve heard  often. As sociologist Robin DiAngelo writes in  White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, “Most white people have limited information about what racism is and how it works. For many white people, an isolated course taken in college or required … in their workplace is the only time they may

encounter a direct and sustained challenge to their racial reality.” That reality includes the fact that, according to a Public Religion Research Institute study, 75 % of white Americans have entirely white social networks. If Drew Brees, who plays in a league that’s about 70% black, has trouble understanding why kneeling concerned brutality and inequality, not the flag and the military, what about those in the 75%?          

We believe the Floyd case and the angst it produced are about race. The protests are

about the disparity in police treatment of African Americans and whites. The Floyd case and the protests are about the fact every African American faces a greater risk of being the victim of police assault than does a white person, regardless of education, socioeconomic standing, or zip code. It is about race.

Class Assignments

White people often ask what they should do to better understand racism. We believe

African Americans should keep talking with whites about the challenges of living in America as descendants of enslaved people. We would not leave our white brothers and sisters to their own

devices and conversations among themselves about the nature of that experience. We recall from the Bible (the word of God for some, wisdom literature for others, and meaningless fable for others) Matthew 15:14, which says “… and if the blind

lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.” As distressing as some may find it, we must say that when it comes to racism, many white Americans are blind.

Still, the responsibility for whites learning about the effects of racism doesn’t fall solely on African Americans. Recently  on his church’s call-in forum, Woodson noted the importance of studying the history of this problem. That’s part of anti-racism work. With this topic, ignorance is not  bliss. Woodson suggested our three favorite books on race – Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other

Suns, The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein, and Edward Baptist’s The Half Has Never Been Told. Henry adds Ralph Ellison’s great novel, Invisible Man. We understand the tough sledding these books sometimes require, so we also offer works that present the issue in more digestible form:

·Racing Across the Lines: Changing Race Relations Through Friendship by Deborah Plummer;

·Me and White Supremacy: Combat Racism, Change the World, and Become a Good Ancestor by Layla F. Saad;

·So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo; and

·How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi.

At least one of us has read all these titles and believes each teaches something about how African Americans and whites can talk concerning race and about white intra-race talk, something we see as valuable. None pull

punches. Some readers may find parts of them disturbing. We think that’s necessary, seeing virtue in the old saw about comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. What we've been doing certainly hasn’t worked.