I’ve been a sports fan for about as long as I’ve been interested in politics, history, and international relations. Growing up, it was hard not to be. I lived outside of Washington, DC, in a family that loved to talk about politics without being involved in it, working mostly in medicine and business, and also sports, in which we had emotional investments in the hometown Redskins (never being enamored of their name) and the struggles of the Capitals, which my dad and I never agreed on, mostly having to do with the lack of scoring and the inability to see the puck.
One of my earliest memories, in fact, is of sitting in the lower deck of Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, watching our borrowed Orioles play (in their orange alternate jerseys, at that). I say “borrowed” because the Washington Senators left D.C. the year before I was born, and save for exhibition games and the occasional Old-Timer’s Game, major league baseball didn’t return until my daughter was nearly a year old.
Even back then, there were moments where sports and society tended to intersect. Back in the late 80s, when the Washington football team won the Super Bowl (yes, they used to regularly participate in the playoffs and won three Lombardi Trophies from 1983 through 1991), Montgomery County Public Schools allowed an excused absence to go downtown for their parade, but not for the inauguration of George H.W. Bush. So much for promoting civic engagement.
Partly because we were young, it was hard to see how fluid all things, be they related to sports, politics, business, or even just daily life, were. You went to elementary school, then middle and high school. The NFL team played at RFK Stadium, there was no baseball team in Washington, the Orioles played at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore (a two or three hour drive, depending on traffic). And these things didn’t change much.
As the 2010’s draw to a close (and even though the new decade doesn’t really start until next year), it’s interesting to think about how much the landscape of sports, and the relationship between sports and society, have changed.
Here in the DC area, we’ve seen the relative influence of our teams change, with the football team playing in an increasingly empty stadium with horrible records and management, the Nationals finally won the World Series after years of struggles, close calls, and a terrible start to the 2019 campaign. The Capitals also reached the top of the NHL in 2018, and the end of the decade saw Washington championships for the WNBA’s Mystics and the late Arena Football League’s Valor. A lot of achievement in a short period of time, preceded by lots of hard work. It’s been a good few years.
At the same time, the decade has also raised some intriguing questions about what role sports should have in society. I’d like to explore these in this blog, starting with (but by no means limited to):
What responsibilities and opportunities do professional athletes have to advocate for issues that are important to them personally? While, on the one hand, we as a society tend to believe that we should keep our personal beliefs out of the workplace, professional athletes play on the biggest stages in the world, and are in a unique position to advocate to causes like racial and economic equality, LGBTQ issues, and many others. But what if their beliefs are at odds with their team’s ownership, their league, or their communities? Does the conversation change for whether they advocate for progressive or conservative causes?
What is the proper role of money in sports? Both from the standpoint of the costs of managing and owning a team, and from a fan perspective, the role of money in sports is enormous. Fifty teams across the globe are worth more than $2 billion, up from one in 2012 (Manchester United), and the fan experience is getting increasingly expensive -- it’s hard to get my family into the gate for a major league game of any kind for under $200. Beloved players leave teams for bigger contracts when their rookie deals end, which they are perfectly reasonable to do but it’s part of a constant escalation that enhances fans’ cynicism. Sports are far from the only field corrupted by money -- witness politics -- but the impact of money on the fan and player experiences is worth exploring.
How important are the aesthetics of sports? Bloggers like Paul Lukas and Chris Creamer have discussed uniforms and logos for years, and without getting into the level of detail that they do so successfully, I’d love to explore how much identity fans put in the aesthetics of their teams. Why do we care what our favorite teams’ uniforms look like? How do the visual elements of team venues play into the fan experience?
What do you think? What are some areas of how sports and society intersect that you would like to explore? Please comment below and join the conversation...
One further note: Section 514 is where my grandfather, Marvin Korengold, had seats in RFK Stadium for football games during the Super Bowl era. I have so many memories of attending games there. Grandpa Marvin passed away earlier this year weeks before he would have turned 96. He was dapper, conversant on every topic under the sun, and loved the Redskins. This blog is in memory of him.
One of my earliest memories, in fact, is of sitting in the lower deck of Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, watching our borrowed Orioles play (in their orange alternate jerseys, at that). I say “borrowed” because the Washington Senators left D.C. the year before I was born, and save for exhibition games and the occasional Old-Timer’s Game, major league baseball didn’t return until my daughter was nearly a year old.
Even back then, there were moments where sports and society tended to intersect. Back in the late 80s, when the Washington football team won the Super Bowl (yes, they used to regularly participate in the playoffs and won three Lombardi Trophies from 1983 through 1991), Montgomery County Public Schools allowed an excused absence to go downtown for their parade, but not for the inauguration of George H.W. Bush. So much for promoting civic engagement.
Partly because we were young, it was hard to see how fluid all things, be they related to sports, politics, business, or even just daily life, were. You went to elementary school, then middle and high school. The NFL team played at RFK Stadium, there was no baseball team in Washington, the Orioles played at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore (a two or three hour drive, depending on traffic). And these things didn’t change much.
As the 2010’s draw to a close (and even though the new decade doesn’t really start until next year), it’s interesting to think about how much the landscape of sports, and the relationship between sports and society, have changed.
Here in the DC area, we’ve seen the relative influence of our teams change, with the football team playing in an increasingly empty stadium with horrible records and management, the Nationals finally won the World Series after years of struggles, close calls, and a terrible start to the 2019 campaign. The Capitals also reached the top of the NHL in 2018, and the end of the decade saw Washington championships for the WNBA’s Mystics and the late Arena Football League’s Valor. A lot of achievement in a short period of time, preceded by lots of hard work. It’s been a good few years.
At the same time, the decade has also raised some intriguing questions about what role sports should have in society. I’d like to explore these in this blog, starting with (but by no means limited to):
What responsibilities and opportunities do professional athletes have to advocate for issues that are important to them personally? While, on the one hand, we as a society tend to believe that we should keep our personal beliefs out of the workplace, professional athletes play on the biggest stages in the world, and are in a unique position to advocate to causes like racial and economic equality, LGBTQ issues, and many others. But what if their beliefs are at odds with their team’s ownership, their league, or their communities? Does the conversation change for whether they advocate for progressive or conservative causes?
What is the proper role of money in sports? Both from the standpoint of the costs of managing and owning a team, and from a fan perspective, the role of money in sports is enormous. Fifty teams across the globe are worth more than $2 billion, up from one in 2012 (Manchester United), and the fan experience is getting increasingly expensive -- it’s hard to get my family into the gate for a major league game of any kind for under $200. Beloved players leave teams for bigger contracts when their rookie deals end, which they are perfectly reasonable to do but it’s part of a constant escalation that enhances fans’ cynicism. Sports are far from the only field corrupted by money -- witness politics -- but the impact of money on the fan and player experiences is worth exploring.
How important are the aesthetics of sports? Bloggers like Paul Lukas and Chris Creamer have discussed uniforms and logos for years, and without getting into the level of detail that they do so successfully, I’d love to explore how much identity fans put in the aesthetics of their teams. Why do we care what our favorite teams’ uniforms look like? How do the visual elements of team venues play into the fan experience?
What do you think? What are some areas of how sports and society intersect that you would like to explore? Please comment below and join the conversation...
One further note: Section 514 is where my grandfather, Marvin Korengold, had seats in RFK Stadium for football games during the Super Bowl era. I have so many memories of attending games there. Grandpa Marvin passed away earlier this year weeks before he would have turned 96. He was dapper, conversant on every topic under the sun, and loved the Redskins. This blog is in memory of him.
Comments
Post a Comment