As the anniversary of Sept. 11 approached, I asked myself the following question: Why do sports matter? I mean, if they don't really matter, then why am I even taking up space to write this column? It didn't take me long to come up with a few answers.
After that gut-wrenching morning 364 days ago -- when time stood still and the world stopped spinning for a few seconds -- many of us said that things were put in perspective, that our priorities now were set straight.
After the dust and rubble settled in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania, very few things seemed to matter, especially not sports. Major League Baseball, the National Football League and the NCAA cancelled games to mourn and pay respect to the victims of 9/11. Sports, in our eyes, resembled "just a game." I doubt many of you even made it to this section of the newspaper, and appropriately so.
But over time, football and baseball games resumed while many of us still mourned and tried to regain that elusive sense of normalcy. For me, that normalcy in part arrived in the form of a Virginia football game -- well, actually, the pregame ceremonies. Last Sept. 29, I sat in the Scott Stadium press box preparing for the Cavaliers' first home game since Sept. 11. Before the game, a ceremony in remembrance of 9/11 featured a moment of silence for all the victims and the names of four University alumni who lost their lives during the terrorist attacks were read over the loudspeaker and displayed on the video screen. Also before the game, four New York City firefighters walked on the field to accept a check for $250,000 from local donations. When the heroes from the nation's largest city started to walk out of the south end zone toward midfield, 60,000 fans gave the loudest and longest applause I have ever heard. I'm sure I was not the only one with tears in my eyes.
When the band played the national anthem, it sounded as if everyone in attendance joined in -- you could no doubt hear the music from miles around. I cannot express in words the emotions I felt during that performance.
While many were quick to say that "sports are just a game" (a sentiment I'm not refuting on its face), sports in the aftermath of Sept. 11 once again proved their unique and powerful presence in American life. It was football games and baseball games across the country that brought thousands of people together from sea to shining sea, honoring the victims of that dreadful day. It was sporting events that witnessed thousands of fans belting out "The Star-Spangled Banner" and saluting the American flag.
It was the baseball World Series between the Arizona Diamondbacks and New York Yankees that helped bring electricity and excitement back to the "city that never sleeps," while at the same time honoring the victims. Even for many who didn't care about baseball, last year's magical World Series captured the American imagination when the nation needed it most.
Sports have always had the unique ability to bring together all types of people, pulled from the melting pot that is the American experience -- no matter their background, race, age, gender or socioeconomic status. The theory of: "As long as you're rooting for who I'm cheering for, we're on the same team."
Two years ago, the presidential election debacle highlighted this phenomenon. Not only did we learn that the candidate with the most votes doesn't necessarily win, we learned that even the most partisan of Americans have stronger allegiances when it comes to sports.
While officials scrambled to sort out the election results in Florida, Democrats and Republicans alike took to the streets of the Sunshine State, picketing and protesting in favor of their respective candidate. But on the third Saturday of November 2000, the political protestors dropped their signs and filled Doak Walker Stadium for the Florida-Florida State football game. Seminole fans, who only hours earlier stood on opposite sides of the street screaming at each other, were now united by their hatred of the Gators and vice versa. What else besides a sporting event could have accomplished that?
We frequently hear as children about the life lessons sports can teach us, such as teamwork, sportsmanship, perseverance and the importance of trying your best. But sports also have the rare ability to affect the national consciousness unlike any other aspect of American life. Few scholars would underestimate the symbolic importance of Jackie Robinson crossing the color barrier of professional baseball in 1947 and its effect on the sprouting civil rights movement.
Despite only offering a few long-winded examples, I strongly believe that sports do matter to the American culture and the American psyche. They are more than just water-cooler discussion topics and more than "just games." Sports represent us and they represent our nation.