What do you feel after those 30-seconds? I feel empowered. I feel inspired. I feel the passion in Richard Sherman's vehement barks as my own. I feel lucky to be able to witness a man on the brink, unfiltered, approaching the pinnacle of his profession. But based on reactions I have read and heard regarding this highly publicized and now-infamous (a week later) 30-second clip, it appears as though our culture of instantaneous soapboxing condemnation does not share my sentiment.
If you've seen the conclusion any televised sporting event, you have probably had the pleasure of catching a post-game interview of a star athlete. These are conducted about 30 seconds after the game is over. The questions posed are exercises in self-reflection such as:
"Take me through that last play!"
or "What was going through your mind when it was a full count, bottom of the ninth, two outs, down by 1 with a man on base?"
Maybe they were thinking "Uhh, I wanted to help us win the game?" It's their job. They're professional athletes, and they're competitive. They play to win, to best at their opponents at their job. It's equivalent to asking a chef, "What were you thinking when you walked into that kitchen today?" It is always uncomfortable for the viewer. The athletes are sweating and short of breath. The questions are insulting and simplify their profession. The post-game interview needs to be abolished entirely. But since I am not a powerful person, I will accept it as reality for now. And the reality is that professional athletes rehearse their answers. They don't want to have to deal with the backlash that comes with speaking their mind in a highly public forum. The interview is a job requirement, a necessary evil. I can't imagine many athletes got into the business so they could live out their lifelong dream of conducting post-game interviews. So they give their focus-grouped, politically correct, absolutely vanilla answers and move on with their evening. And that's what we, the public, expect and are comfortable with.
But then Richard Sherman comes along. An individual violating the norm of robotic post-game interview answers. His Seattle Seahawks had just earned a trip to the Super Bowl, the first of Sherman's career, with a victory over their heated division rivals, as he made the game-saving play on defense while covering a wide receiver he clearly has had some beef with. He yells about how he's the best at what he does. And America goes ballistic with rage.
The hypocrisy of our culture is astounding. We whine that today's sports superstars are devoid of true rivalries and animosity for one another; LeBron James teams up with Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh on the Miami Heat rather than taking pride in defeating them himself. Players move seamlessly between playing for both sides of the New York Yankees/Boston Red Sox "rivalry;" these are teams who used to hate each other's guts on geographic and historical principle.
Yet here we have a rivalry in which two football teams, playing in the same division and exhibiting public disdain for one another, battling for a berth in the Super Bowl, the highest rung on the ladder they climb every day of their lives. A close, hard-fought game is played. Cut to: a star player prominently involved in this game, 30 seconds after the game ends. Yells emotionally for fifteen seconds. America's knee-jerk reaction: WHAT A FUCKING THUG. NO CLASS. SELFISH.
My reaction: Easy for you to say from behind the dull glow of a computer screen in your pajama pants and slippers. Have you ever toiled in the trenches at your job and felt unrecognized by your boss, or that someone else was getting recognition they didn't deserve? Now imagine you got the promotion you've been working towards for years, or you got that job offer you dream about every day, or you got a raise instead of that dipshit that's always trying to undermine you? 30 seconds after you receive this news, someone sticks a camera in your face and demands "Why do you deserve this?" Tell me that you wouldn't be a little fired up. That you wouldn't feel inclined to brag. You fought for this. You earned it. You're human. But that's not okay.
We are part of a culture mired in insecurity and negativity. Twitter and Facebook and even this blog provide a soapbox for us to be the most righteous. There is no maturity requirement for social networking. Just an internet connection. It requires no effort or thought to publicly judge someone else's character or motives. And the best part is, all of your friends/peers/people you want to be impressed by your opinions get to see them instantly. "Like" them. Favorite them. Agree with your opinion. This cycle constantly feeds the cultural monster increasingly defined by self-importance and self-righetousness. The louder your voice is, the more extreme and critical your opinion is, the better. So when a professional athlete invades your living room in a raw, emotional, and downright shocking manner, you can't wait to refresh Twitter and rant about how he's a thug in 140 characters or less. A general sense of perspective in our society seems to dwindle every day. Do your part and think twice before you berate.
(Go Seahawks)