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    Irv Cross, First Black Network TV Sports Analyst, Dies at 81

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyIrv Cross, First Black Network TV Sports Analyst, Dies at 81After playing defensive back in the N.F.L., he made history when he joined CBS Sports’ pregame show, “The NFL Today.”Irv Cross in 1985. He had a 15-year run as an analyst on “The NFL Today.”Credit…George Rose/Getty ImagesMarch 1, 2021Updated 7:48 p.m. ETIrv Cross, a Pro Bowl defensive back with two N.F.L. teams who later made history as the first Black full-time television analyst for a network television sports show, died on Sunday in a hospice in North Oaks, Minn. He was 81.The cause was ischemic cardiomyopathy, a heart disease, said his wife, Liz Cross. He also had dementia, which he believed had been caused by concussions he endured in his playing days. He had arranged to donate his brain to the Boston University Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy Center.By 1975, after nine seasons with the Philadelphia Eagles and the Los Angeles Rams and four years as a game analyst for CBS Sports, the network hired Mr. Cross to join the cast of its pregame show, “The NFL Today,” beginning a 15-year run as a high-profile commentator. He, Brent Musburger and Phyllis George — and, starting a year later, the betting maven Jimmy Snyder, who was known as the Greek — previewed and analyzed the day’s coming games and gave half-time scores.The cast was unlike others in N.F.L. television programming, with Mr. Cross in a job that no other Black sports journalist had held before, and Ms. George, a former Miss America, becoming one of the first female sportscasters. With entertaining banter and byplay, the combination of personalities proved extremely popular.“Irv was a very smart, hardworking, hugely kind person who always had a warmth about him,” Ted Shaker, the former executive producer of CBS Sports, said in a phone interview. “He had built up his credibility as a player and game analyst, and he was our anchor at ‘The NFL Today.’” He added, “Like Phyllis, Irv was a true pioneer.” (Ms. George died in May at 70.)In 1988, CBS fired Mr. Snyder over widely publicized comments he had made in an interview about the physical differences between Black and white athletes. His comments, Mr. Cross said at the time, “don’t reflect the Jimmy the Greek I know, and I’ve known him for almost 13 years.” (Mr. Snyder died in 1996.)After CBS fired Mr. Musburger in a contract dispute in 1990, the network overhauled “The NFL Today,” ending Mr. Cross’s long run on the program. He returned to being a game analyst at CBS for two years, but after his contract was not renewed he did not work in network television again.“I didn’t have an agent, and I didn’t search for a TV position as aggressively as I should have,” he told Sports Illustrated in 1996.“I just quietly faded away.”His broadcasting work was honored in 2009 when he received the Pete Rozelle Radio-Television Award from the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.Mr. Cross in 1976 with his “NFL Today” colleagues Brent Musburger and Phyllis George.Credit…CBS ArchivesIrvin Acie Cross was born on July 27, 1939, in Hammond, Ind., the eighth of 15 children. His father, Acie, was a steelworker; his mother, Ellee (Williams) Cross, was a homemaker.Mr. Cross said his father, a heavy drinker, had beaten his mother. “It tears me up,” he told The Chicago Tribune in 2018. “It was frightening. You could tell it was coming. We tried stopping him a few times. We’d jump on his back. It’s absolutely raw for me.”Ellee Cross died in childbirth when Irv was 10, leaving him to wonder whether the beatings had worsened his mother’s health problems.After excelling at football at Hammond High School — which earned him a place in its hall of fame — Mr. Cross was a wide receiver and a defensive back at Northwestern University under Coach Ara Parseghian. As a junior, he caught a 78-yard touchdown pass during a 30-24 Northwestern victory over Notre Dame.“We didn’t have much depth, but Parseghian was great at moving guys around and getting the most of them,” Mr. Cross told a Northwestern online publication in 2018. “His teams beat Notre Dame three straight times from 1958 to 1961.” Mr. Parseghian left Northwestern after the 1963 season to begin a storied run as coach of Notre Dame.As a senior, Mr. Cross was named Northwestern’s male athlete of the year.The Eagles chose him in the seventh round of the 1961 N.F.L. draft. He intercepted a career-high five passes in 1962 and played in the Pro Bowl in 1964 and 1965. The Hall of Fame running back Jim Brown once said, “No one in the league tackles harder than Cross.”After five seasons with the Eagles, Mr. Cross was traded to the Los Angeles Rams in 1965 and played there for three years. He returned to the Eagles in 1969 as a player and a defensive backs coach. After retiring as a player at the end of the season, he continued to coach for one more year.Mr. Cross when he played for the Philadelphia Eagles in the early 1960s. He was a two-time Pro Bowl defensive back before becoming a sportscaster.Credit…Philadelphia EaglesMr. Cross began planning for a television career while he was with the Eagles, working as a radio sports commentator and a weekend TV sports anchor in Philadelphia during the off-season. Though tempted by the Dallas Cowboys’ offer of a front office job in 1971, he chose to work for CBS Sports instead.Joining “The NFL Today” came with a certain amount of pressure. He recalled in the Northwestern interview that in 1975 “the TV landscape was much different, much whiter.”“I never focused on that,” Mr. Cross said, “but I was keenly aware that if I failed it might be a long time before another Black person got a similar opportunity.”When the cast of the show was changed in 1990, Greg Gumbel, who is Black, was hired to work alongside the former Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback Terry Bradshaw.After Mr. Cross left CBS he changed course, working as the athletic director at Idaho State University in Pocatello from 1996 to ’98 and at Macalester College in St. Paul, Minn., from 1999 to 2005.In addition to his wife, Liz (Tucker) Cross, he is survived by his daughters, Susan, Lisa and Sandra Cross; his son, Matthew; a grandson; his sisters, Joan Motley, Jackie McEntyre Julia Hopson, Pat Grant and Gwen Robinson; and his brothers, Raymond, Teal and Sam. His first marriage ended in divorce. He lived in Roseville, Minn., outside the Twin Cities.When Mr. Cross played, concussions were usually not taken seriously. He sustained several in his rookie season, enough for his teammates to nickname him Paper Head. One of the concussions knocked him unconscious and sent him to the hospital.To protect himself, Mr. Cross had a helmet made with extra padding.“I just tried to keep my head out of the way while making tackles,” he told The Philadelphia Inquirer in 2018. “But that’s just the way it was. Most of the time, they gave you some smelling salts and you went back in. We didn’t know.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Bill Wright, Who Broke a Color Barrier in Golf, Dies at 84

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyBill Wright, Who Broke a Color Barrier in Golf, Dies at 84In 1959, decades before Tiger Woods, Wright became the first Black golfer to win a United States Golf Association event.Bill Wright in the Amateur Public Links Championship in Denver in 1959. His victory there was a singular moment for Black golfers at a time when the P.G.A. bylaws still had a “Caucasians-only” clause.Credit…Denver Post, via Getty ImagesFeb. 25, 2021, 6:56 p.m. ETBill Wright, the first Black competitor to win a United States Golf Association event in an era when African-Americans were not welcome either in segregated country clubs or in the top amateur and professional ranks, died on Feb. 19 at his home in Los Angeles. He was 84.His wife and only immediate survivor, Ceta (Smith) Wright, confirmed the death. She said he had a stroke in 2017 and had Alzheimer’s disease.Wright was attending the Western Washington College of Education (now Western Washington University) in 1959 when he won the U.S.G.A. Amateur Public Links Championship in Denver.After barely qualifying for match play, he had little trouble in the tournament. His skill on the greens led The Spokesman-Review of Spokane to call him a “slender putting wizard.”Wright’s immediate reaction to being the first Black golfer to win a national championship was to hang up the phone on the reporter who had asked how that felt.“I wasn’t mad,” he said in an interview with the U.S.G.A. in 2009. “I wanted to be Black. I wanted to be the winner. I wanted to be all those things.” But he was struck by how quickly his victory was viewed as one for his race. As he saw it, he said, “I was just playing golf.”Wright’s victory was a singular moment for Black golfers at a time when the P.G.A. of America’s bylaws still had a “Caucasians-only” clause (which would be abolished in 1961).A Black man did not win a PGA Tour event until 1964, when Pete Brown finished first at the Waco Turner Open in Texas. The next two African-American winners of U.S.G.A. tournaments were Alton Duhon (the 1982 U.S. Senior Amateur) and Tiger Woods (the 1991 to 1993 U.S. Junior Amateurs).Victoria Nenno, the senior historian of the USGA Golf Museum and Library, said in an email that Wright’s victory “deserves recognition not just for the challenges he overcame as an African-American golfer, but for the manner in which he won — with skill, precision and, most importantly, sportsmanship.”Winning the public links title earned Wright an exemption to play in the U.S. Amateur Championship later that year at the Broadmoor resort in Colorado Springs. When the white golfers who were to join him for a practice round refused to play with him, Chick Evans, who had won the Open in 1920, invited him to join his group. That group included Jack Nicklaus, then 19 years old, who would win the event.“I have never forgotten it,” Wright once said of Evans’s gesture in an interview for usga.com. “He came over and made it so I could enjoy the most aristocratic hotel. It was just amazing.”William Alfred Wright was born on April 4, 1936, in Kansas City, Mo., and later moved with his family to Portland, Ore., and Seattle. His father, Bob, was a mail carrier and a skilled golfer. His mother, Madeline (Shipman) Wright, was a social worker who also golfed.Wright began playing golf at 14; a year later, he was Seattle’s junior champion. He excelled in basketball and helped his high school team win a state title in 1954. He graduated from Western Washington in 1960 and that year won the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics’ individual golf championship. He also played in his first PGA Tour event in 1960, but learned how difficult it was to play a regular schedule without sponsors.“There was really no visible hope for people of color to play professionally,” Wendell Haskins, a former director of diversity for the P.G.A. of America, said in a phone interview. “He showed all kinds of promise, but the opportunities for him were limited.”Because he could not afford to play golf professionally full time, Wright taught sixth grade in Los Angeles for nine years, then owned a car dealership in Pasadena and was the teaching pro at the Lakes at El Segundo, a nine-hole municipal golf course, from 1995 to 2017.According to the PGA Tour, Wright played in at least 17 tournaments from 1960 to 1974 — his best finish was a tie for 40th place — and in nine PGA Tour Champions events (tournaments for golfers at least 50 years old) from 1988 to 1995. He also competed in the 1966 U.S. Open — he didn’t make the cut — and five U.S. Senior Opens.“He was a barrier breaker,” Ceta Wright said. “The sad part is that he hoped his success would open the doors for other Black golfers. But it really didn’t.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Tiger Woods and Another Terrible Turn of Fate

    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }Tiger Woods’s Car CrashWill He Play Again?Sheriff Expects No ChargesGolf Without WoodsA Terrible Turn of FateCareer Highs and LowsAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storySports of the TimesTiger Woods and Another Terrible Turn of FateIt is easy to cling to memories of Tiger Woods at his peaks, but his vulnerability tells as much, if not more, about his powerful hold on sport and culture.Tiger Woods at Augusta National Golf Club in 2019, when he won his fifth Masters title and his 15th major championship.Credit…Doug Mills/The New York TimesFeb. 25, 2021Updated 8:08 a.m. ETThe sight of his demolished S.U.V., sitting forlornly on a grassy Southern California hillside, belied the image of Tiger Woods as an invincible force marching across the golf course to certain, thrilling triumph.That was not always the case, and lately his victories have been far from commanding. But so much is embodied in Tiger. And in this period of pandemic and relentless loss, we struggle to confront visions of a crumpled vehicle, of him lying in a hospital bed, of leg bones shattered and questions about whether he will play again — while still dissecting who he is and what he has wrought.What happened to the sterling athlete who so many expected to reshape the game of golf and even, perhaps, the broader culture?Woods’s greatness, once seemingly preordained, has been dimmed over the past dozen years by stunning falls from grace and by betrayal from his body.But many of us still cling to him, even if it means grasping at shards of memory. We remember the prodigy who burst into view on the nationally televised “Mike Douglas Show,” hitting putts at age 2.We remember his Stanford years and the Masters of 1997, the first of 15 major titles, won in history-making fashion at age 21.When you think of Woods, what comes to mind?After his first Masters victory in 1997, Woods received his green jacket from Nick Faldo, the previous year’s winner.Credit…Amy Sancetta/Associated PressIs he the superstar who lived for toppling records? Who grew up with his eyes fixed on breaking Jack Nicklaus’s record of 18 major championships? Recall that there was a time when this seemed like an audacious, even arrogant, goal. Then he set about the chase, quickly drawing oh-so-near to Nicklaus, major after major. Is he the golfer whose very presence in a largely segregated, upper-crust sport was not only startling, but also a harbinger of the issues that frame our world today?With his shimmering brown skin, his power and confidence, Woods blew down the doors of the all-white country clubs. Remember the snide and easy way in which the golf veteran Fuzzy Zoeller referred to Woods as “that little boy”? Or Zoeller’s publicly urging Woods not to put fried chicken and collard greens on the menu of the Masters’ champions dinner?That was the golf culture Woods strode into, and took over, as the world watched.But how did he see himself? Here things get tricky. Raised in predominantly white suburbs by a mother from Thailand and an African-American father, Woods was one of the first major sports figures to openly embrace the idea that he represented multiplicity. “Growing up,” he told Oprah Winfrey shortly after that first Masters win, “I came up with this name: I’m a Cablinasian.”In a world that struggles to go beyond placing race in tidy boxes, that comment alienated some of his most ardent supporters. But if he was chided for seeming to keep his Blackness at a distance, it didn’t dent his popularity. No matter how Woods defined himself, he was imbued with a certain power. Forever the trailblazer and talisman. He put a torch to the old order. That was enough.Then came 2009, and a troubling descent. It began with tabloid tales of the married Woods engaging in serial infidelity. Eventually his deepest flaws were exposed: his illicit texts, his trysts, his trips to rehab as he battled addiction.Woods frustrated at a tournament in 2018.Credit…Sam Hodgson for The New York TimesWoods was among the first transcendent sports stars to emerge at the dawn of the digital age. His aura, his race, his swagger and shotmaking, the club twirls and fist bumps and miracle shots — all of it was perfectly suited for YouTube and the rise of sports apps that feast on fleeting moments and sensational emotion.The digital age also magnified his troubles. Each imperfection was there to see, personal and professional. For much of a decade, as the advancing years wreaked havoc on his body and the surgeries piled up, Woods was a shadow of his former self. Heading into 2019, he had not won a major tournament in nearly 11 years.Yet Woods somehow remained swaddled in Teflon. The revelation of his human frailties cost him plenty of fans and endorsements. But a significant portion of his admirers forgave and forgot. The continued embrace was a willful act by a public all too eager to dole out second and third chances to a winner. Especially a winner like Woods.He continued to be a top draw, a global icon, even as he grimaced through season after season, age and injury taking an ever-steeper toll. At one point, he was ranked 1,119th in the world. But then came April 2019, and the Masters. Summoning every remnant of his former self, he surged to victory, legions celebrating his fifth champion’s green jacket.Nobody who watched that tournament will forget it. Not just the stirring comeback, but the sight of Woods wrapping his son, Charlie, and his daughter, Sam, in his arms as he walked from the final green. It called to mind the embrace given by Woods’s father, Earl, after the Masters win in 1997. It spoke, too, of poignant change in the face of time. Woods was no longer the soaring young champion, but he could still reach the highest peaks, if only in short bursts.Woods after winning the 2019 Masters, his first major victory in over a decade. Credit…Doug Mills/The New York TimesApril 2019 feels so long ago, given all that the world has gone through this past year.And now this. On Tuesday we saw the remains of that S.U.V. and waited for the updates. We shuddered, remembering Kobe Bryant’s helicopter, strewn across another Southern California hillside just over a year ago.We listened as a sheriff and his deputies described the wreckage, explaining that Woods was lucky to be alive and that drugs and alcohol did not appear to be involved. They said he had been pried from his vehicle and carried off on a stretcher.“Unfortunately,” said one of them, “Mr. Woods was not able to stand on his own power.”How could such a circumstance befall Tiger Woods, who strode across majestic golf courses with so much purpose? It was a reminder, once again, that heroes are human, full of weakness, unable to dodge the terrible twists of fate that stalk us all.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Jaguars' Hiring of Chris Doyle Called 'Unacceptable' by Fritz Pollard Alliance

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyDiversity Group Calls Jaguars’ Hiring of Assistant Coach ‘Simply Unacceptable’The Fritz Pollard Alliance criticized the addition of Chris Doyle, who was accused of mistreatment of Black players at the University of Iowa, to Urban Meyer’s staff in Jacksonville.Chris Doyle in 2018 at the University of Iowa, where he was the football team’s strength and conditioning coach.Credit…Charlie Neibergall/Associated PressFeb. 12, 2021Updated 9:36 p.m. ETAn organization that promotes diversity in the N.F.L. on Friday criticized the Jacksonville Jaguars’ recent hiring of Chris Doyle, who left the University of Iowa’s football staff last year after a number of current and former Hawkeyes players said he had fostered a culture of bullying and racism.A statement from the Fritz Pollard Alliance, which is named for the first Black head coach in the N.F.L., said the Jaguars’ decision to make Doyle their director of sports performance was “simply unacceptable.”“Doyle’s departure from the University of Iowa reflected a tenure riddled with poor judgment and mistreatment of Black players,” Rod Graves, the executive director of the Fritz Pollard Alliance, said in the statement. “His conduct should be as disqualifying for the N.F.L. as it was for University of Iowa.”Doyle, who was Iowa’s strength and conditioning coach, reached a separation agreement with the university in June, ending two decades of work there.The Jaguars announced on Thursday that Doyle had joined the staff of Urban Meyer, who was named Jacksonville’s head coach last month. Meyer, who won two college national championships as the head coach at Florida and one at Ohio State, has not coached since 2018 and has never worked in the N.F.L. before.The hiring of Doyle, who is white, comes at a time of intense scrutiny of the N.F.L.’s hiring practices and questions about whether minority candidates for coaching jobs have equal opportunities to be hired.“I’ve known Chris for close to 20 years,” Meyer said on Thursday when questioned about hiring someone who had been accused of mistreating Black athletes. Doyle was the strength coach at the University of Utah in the late 1990s, a few years before Meyer was hired as the head coach there.“Urban Meyer’s statement, ‘I’ve known Chris for close to 20 years,’ reflects the good ol’ boy network that is precisely the reason there is such a disparity in employment opportunities for Black coaches,” Graves said in the statement.Neither the N.F.L. nor the Jaguars responded to a request for comment on the Fritz Pollard Alliance’s statement.During a news conference last week, N.F.L. Commissioner Roger Goodell said that he was not satisfied with the rate at which coaches of color have been hired in the N.F.L., which has 32 teams.“It wasn’t what we expected,” he said of the diversity in the round of hirings after the 2020 season, “and it’s not what we expect going forward.”Of the seven head coaches hired since the end of the regular season, just two were nonwhite. Last year one of five head coaching jobs went to a minority candidate, and the year before just one in eight.Over the last three years 80 percent of head coaching jobs have gone to white candidates, though players of color made up 69.4 percent of the N.F.L. this season, according to the Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport.After the Jaguars hired Meyer and General Manager Trent Baalke, who are both white, last month, Graves praised the organization for interviewing several minority candidates and for seeking input from the Fritz Pollard Alliance.“I cannot argue that the process didn’t meet the standard of fair, open and competitive,” Graves told The Florida Times-Union.The hiring of Doyle, however, raised issues beyond the N.F.L.’s commitment to diverse hiring.Before Doyle left Iowa, Emmanuel Rugamba, a former Hawkeyes defensive back, gave multiple examples of the coach demeaning players with negative racial stereotypes. Rugamba said in a tweet that one day after a Black player walked away from Doyle, the coach said, “Why you walking wit all that swagger I’ll put you back on the streets.”James Daniels, a Chicago Bears offensive lineman and a former Hawkeye, tweeted over the summer: “There are too many racial disparities in the Iowa football program. Black players have been treated unfairly for far too long.”Doyle also presided over an off-season workout in 2011 that resulted in the hospitalization of 13 players.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    At the Super Bowl, the N.F.L.’s Social Message Is Muddled

    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }Super Bowl 2021N.F.L.’s Most Challenging YearGame HighlightsThe CommercialsHalftime ShowWhat We LearnedAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyOn Pro FootballAt the Super Bowl, the N.F.L.’s Social Message Is MuddledThe N.F.L. espoused racial unity and praised health care workers. But its inaction on racial diversity, its stereotypic imagery and its decision to host a potential superspreader event said something different.Masked fans paid tribute to front line workers and displayed messages of racial unity during the second quarter of the Super Bowl.Credit…Doug Mills/The New York TimesFeb. 8, 2021Updated 3:38 p.m. ETThe N.F.L. likes to project power and precision. Sideline catches are scrutinized with zoom lenses, first downs are measured in inches and Air Force jets fly over stadiums just as “The Star-Spangled Banner” reaches its peak.But when it comes to topics like race, health and safety, the league’s certainty dissolves into a series of mixed messages.That was the case on Sunday at the Super Bowl, the N.F.L.’s crowning game, which is typically watched by about 100 million viewers in the United States. The championship game provides the league a massive platform each year to promote itself as America’s corporate do-gooder, with the best interests of its enormous fan base at heart. That was harder to do this year as the country remained roiled by the deadly coronavirus pandemic, which has exacerbated festering political division and racial unrest, issues the N.FL. had to plow past to complete its season.On Sunday, at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa, Fla., the N.F.L. trumpeted its support for the fight against social injustice. The national anthem was performed by two musicians, one Black and one white. The poet Amanda Gorman, who wowed the country with her recitation at President Biden’s inauguration, read an ode to the three honorary captains — a teacher, a nurse and a soldier — frontline workers in different fields. The TV announcers spoke often of the work that the league and the players have done to battle racial inequities.Yet, moments later, when the Kansas City Chiefs took the field, the N.F.L. played a recording in the reduced capacity stadium of the made-up war cry that is a team custom. The prompt got fans to swing their arms in a “tomahawk chop,” an act that many find disrespectful and a perpetuation of racist stereotypes of the nation’s first people. Last week, the Kansas City Indian Center, a social service agency, put up two billboards in the city that read, “Change the name and stop the chop!”The Kansas City Chiefs took the field as the N.F.L. played the “tomahawk chop” on speakers inside Raymond James Stadium in Tampa, Fla.Credit…Chang W. Lee/The New York Times“At the start of the game it was all unify, unify, unify, and then there’s this racist chant,” said Louis Moore, an associate professor of history at Grand Valley State University who studies connections between race and sports. “Eight months after George Floyd, and you’ve done all this stuff, letting players put phrases on the backs of their helmets, giving workers a paid holiday for Juneteenth. They are putting a corporate Band-Aid on a problem instead of dealing with it.”Moore pointed to other inconvenient realities that were either dismissed, ignored or obscured by the relentless messaging.There was scant mention of Colin Kaepernick, the former San Francisco 49ers quarterback who has not played since the 2016 season, when he began kneeling during the national anthem to shine a light on police brutality.That led to a sharp, viral rebuke on Twitter from the singer Mariah Carey.There was little talk of the league’s abysmal record hiring people of color as head coaches and general managers even as television cameras showed the Chiefs’ successful offensive coordinator, Eric Bieniemy, who is Black and has been unable to land a head coaching position in multiple hiring cycles.Before the game, CBS Sports showed a segment that featured Viola Davis, the Academy Award-winning actress, saluting Kenny Washington, a Black player who in 1946 reintegrated the N.F.L., which had an unofficial color barrier for 13 years.Yet there was no discussion of a lawsuit brought by two former N.F.L. players who accuse the league of rigging the concussion settlement to make it harder for Black players to receive payments.The league spent considerable time lauding nurses and other health care workers on the front lines who have been helping fight the coronavirus. It had invited 7,500 vaccinated workers to the game, a signal to Americans that if you, too, get inoculated, you will be able to safely attend big events like the Super Bowl.Not discussed was that just hosting the Super Bowl could lead to a spike in the number of infections. Sure, the N.F.L. provided fans at the game with face masks and hand sanitizer, but little if any contact tracing was done to monitor exposure. Tracking infected fans will be made all the more difficult as people return to their homes in all corners of the country.Many people flocked to Tampa the week of the Super Bowl, flooding bars and restaurants.Credit…AJ Mast for The New York TimesThe Super Bowl, American sports’ biggest party, is not confined to TV and phone screens. The week of events leading up to the game was a magnet for tens of thousands of fans who attended parties or flocked to Tampa’s bars and restaurants, often unmasked. In the aftermath of the home team’s victory, mask-less revelers took to the streets of Tampa, an utterly predictable scene that has followed other major championships. Many of the people who celebrated without regard to social distancing or other guidelines will expose others to the virus as they travel home.For all the N.F.L.’s feel-good words and gestures to this moment in American history at the Super Bowl, and its attempts to use football to try to bring the nation together, the league’s carefully crafted message risked being muddled by its actions.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Officer in Tamir Rice Shooting Playing on Football Team Sparks Protest

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyProtests Rise After Officer in Tamir Rice Shooting Plays on Football TeamTimothy Loehmann, who was fired from the Cleveland police force after the shooting death of 12-year-old Tamir Rice, has quietly played with a semipro team in Ohio.A photograph of Tamir Rice became part of a memorial at the Cleveland park where he was fatally shot by Timothy Loehmann in 2014.Credit…Ty Wright for The New York TimesFeb. 2, 2021Updated 7:19 p.m. ETWhen the new player appeared on the semipro football team made up of emergency workers, he simply went by Tim or Timmy. He was noticeably bad at football, said Randy Knight, a lineman on the team, who took Tim under his wing and taught him the basics: assuming a three-point stance, “firing off” the line, proper hand placement at the line of scrimmage.They did not interact much off the field, Knight said, but he played alongside Tim, who mostly kept to himself, without incident for more than two seasons.But in early 2019, a fellow semipro football player questioned why Knight was playing for the Cleveland Warriors.“They’re racist,” the player said of the Warriors, according to Knight. “The guy that killed Tamir Rice is on that team.”Tamir was the 12-year-old Black boy fatally shot by a white Cleveland police officer in 2014. Knight searched for information about Tamir’s killer on Google, and up popped images of the man he knew as Timmy — Timothy Loehmann.“I became irate,” said Knight, 32, a former corrections officer who is Black.Loehmann’s involvement with the team became public last week in a report by a local television station. Knight led a protest at the Warriors’ practice facility on Saturday, saying that the team’s management had lied to him by allowing Loehmann, who was fired from the police force in 2017 but not criminally charged in the shooting, to continue to play with the team. Activists and supporters of Tamir’s family have since expressed outrage over the former officer’s presence on the team, not least because it is in the National Public Safety Football League, which was originally started for law enforcement.“I think it’s careless and irresponsible for them to allow him to play,” Samaria Rice, Tamir’s mother, said in a telephone interview on Tuesday. “His career is over as a police officer in the state of Ohio as far as I’m concerned. It’s just ridiculous.”The league requires players to be active-duty emergency responders. Bill Sofranko, the coach of the Warriors, said that although Loehmann was fired in 2017, the team allowed him to continue to play while his arbitration appeal was pending and that Loehmann was removed from the team once he lost that appeal — in late 2019, after the most recent season was over. (The league, a 20-team group that began play in 1997, did not play last year because of the coronavirus pandemic.)Sofranko, who is white, said that he had allowed Loehmann to continue to practice with the team and that, contrary to what Knight claimed, he had never hidden the former officer’s identity.Loehmann is still trying to regain his job as a Cleveland police officer — he is currently appealing his firing in state court. His lawyer, Henry Hilow, said it was unfair for people to criticize Loehmann for being on the football team.“Every time he does something now in his life, there’s going to be someone picketing?” Hilow asked. “There’s never been criminal charges against him. Whether people agree or disagree, that’s the reality of the situation.”A grand jury in Cuyahoga County declined in 2015 to charge Loehmann in the shooting of Tamir, and in late December, the Justice Department announced that it was closing its investigation into the case without filing charges.Sofranko, 65, said that Loehmann had joined the team in 2017 the way most players do — he just showed up one day. He did not know about Loehmann’s involvement in the Tamir shooting, Sofranko said, until the former officer told him at breakfast after practice one morning. Learning that, Sofranko said, never made him question whether Loehmann should be on the team.“Why should I have?” Sofranko said.One former player, who is Black and now serves as an assistant coach, said that he was initially uncomfortable when learning that Loehmann had killed Tamir, but that then he talked to the former officer about it.“I got to know Tim personally,” said the former player, who asked to be identified only by his nickname, Lebo. “He was remorseful. He was apologetic.”Sofranko said Knight had never lodged any objection to Loehmann’s presence on the team until about two weeks ago, when Sofranko informed Knight that he was being kicked off the team because he had left the Ohio corrections department and was no longer eligible to play in the league.“He’s using this Tamir Rice, this Black-white thing to support his anger and vengeance,” Sofranko said. “Every Black person on the team supports Tim Loehmann.”Knight forcefully denied that. He said that the coaching staff seemed to hide Loehmann’s full identity — that he was not introduced to the full team the way most other players are.Loehmann was circumspect with him once, Knight said. When Loehmann’s suspension from the police force came up during a conversation, Loehmann said that it was due to a technicality with his résumé and that he would soon have his job back, Knight recalled.Loehmann was indeed fired because he lied on his résumé, but Knight said he felt that he should have been more forthcoming about the Tamir shooting.But as soon as he found out who Loehmann was, Knight said, he reached out to several members of the team’s management, including Sofranko, to complain. Knight provided screenshots of several text messages sent to a team board member in March 2019 in which he expressed concern about Loehmann’s presence on the team.“How in the hell did this guy get on the team?” Knight said he asked the team’s management. “How did we allow this to happen?”Management assured him several times that Loehmann would no longer be on the team, Knight said. But each time Knight showed up to games, Loehmann was there. It all blew up before the championship game in 2019 in Los Angeles.The team paid everyone’s way there, in part with a $20,000 contribution from Dee Haslam, an owner of the Cleveland Browns, according to Sofranko. A Browns spokesman said it was a one-time contribution. The Haslam family was unaware that Loehmann was on the team at the time, he said, and does not plan to make any further donations.The night before the game, Knight said, he argued with several teammates about the fact that Loehmann had made the trip, but he eventually decided to play so as not to let down the team. The Warriors lost to the Los Angeles Grizzlies, 24-0.Knight said he decided to return this year after again receiving assurances that Loehmann would no longer be with the team. But Loehmann was at the practice facility in early January. Before he could object, Knight said, Sofranko told him that he was off the team for being disruptive.“Why is he here?” Knight said he asked Sofranko, referring to Loehmann. “So you all mad at me because I spoke out?”Knight returned to practice two weeks later, this time as a protester. The police were called to escort the protesters out of the practice facility.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Jennifer King Becomes First Black Woman to Coach N.F.L. Full-Time

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyA Washington Coach Reaches a First for Black Women in the N.F.L.Washington promoted Jennifer King to assistant running backs coach, making her the first Black woman with a full-time N.F.L. coaching job, amid increasing scrutiny on the diversity of the league’s hiring.The wild-card playoff game between Washington and Tampa Bay on Jan. 9 was the first N.F.L. playoff game with women in coaching roles on both sidelines: Lori Locust, a Bucs assistant defensive line coach, and Jennifer King, right, a Washington intern who was promoted to assistant running backs coach on Tuesday.Credit…Daniel Kucin Jr./Associated PressVictor Mather and Jan. 26, 2021Updated 6:22 p.m. ETThe Washington Football Team promoted Jennifer King to assistant running backs coach on Tuesday, making her the first Black woman to become a full-time coach in the N.F.L.King’s promotion accentuates the importance the Washington franchise has placed on diversifying after a tumultuous year in which its longtime logo and nickname, widely perceived as racist, were dropped. The move also comes as the N.F.L. faces increasing scrutiny because of its paucity of Black head coaches.King, 36, was a coaching intern with the team this past season and previously served as an intern with the Carolina Panthers and as an offensive assistant at Dartmouth College.“She earned this opportunity with hard work,” Washington Coach Ron Rivera said in a statement. “The sky truly is the limit for her.”The number of female coaches in the N.F.L. has grown, slowly but steadily, over the past five seasons, with eight women on staffs in 2020. According to The Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sports, which tracks racial and gender demographics of coaches in five professional sports leagues, the N.F.L. trails only the N.B.A., which has nine female assistants.Yet while about 70 percent of N.F.L. players are Black, only two of the current head coaches are, and just four — including Rivera — are people of color, according to the league’s measure of diversity.Of the seven head coaching jobs that became available in the past four months, only one has been filled by a nonwhite candidate — the Jets’ Robert Saleh, who is a Muslim Arab American. The Houston Texans’ head coaching position is still open.Three minority candidates were hired as general managers in the past two weeks — Terry Fontenot in Atlanta, Brad Holmes in Detroit and Martin Mayhew in Washington — swelling the leaguewide total to five. The general manager hirings are significant, because their roles enable them to hire, and recommend, more people of color to join their organizations. But they are less visible than coaches.In most instances, the pipeline to N.F.L. coaching and scouting positions is stocked with men who have played college football, diminishing chances for women interested in pursuing careers in professional football. But in recent years, the league has made stronger efforts to enhance opportunities for women, particularly those of color.It established the Women’s Careers in Football Forum, an annual event held in conjunction with the league’s scouting combine that since 2017 has given women with entry-level roles in college programs a chance to learn from, and network with, N.F.L. general managers, coaches and executives. At last February’s session, 26 of the league’s 32 teams participated, and Samantha Rapoport, the N.F.L.’s senior director of diversity and inclusion, said that with a virtual format next month, she is hoping for full representation.In 2019, 55 percent of the participants at the forum were women of color. Among all the women who attended the most recent gathering, in February, 15 were hired for full-time positions or internships, either in the N.F.L. or for a college program, for the 2020 season, bringing the total to 118 such jobs since the forum’s inception.“People that are marginalized or disenfranchised, if you give them a shot, an opportunity to have a conversation with someone who can potentially hire them, that’s how they land on the short list,” Rapoport said.In 2015, Jen Welter became the first woman added to an N.F.L. staff, as an assistant coaching intern with the Arizona Cardinals. Kathryn Smith became the first woman to hold a full-time assistant coaching position the following year, when she was named special teams quality control coach under Rex Ryan with the Buffalo Bills, and after the 2019 season Katie Sowers, who worked mostly with the 49ers’ wide receivers, became the first woman to coach in a Super Bowl.(Sowers, after four seasons with San Francisco, announced a few weeks ago that she would not return in 2021.)Another breakthrough came in November, when Callie Brownson of the Cleveland Browns was elevated to tight ends coach on a brief interim basis, becoming the highest-ranking female coach in league history.“What we’re hoping for is normalization,” Rapoport said, adding: “We’re not looking for firsts. We’re not putting on a schedule for the first female head coach or the first female general manager. That’s not our focus. Our focus is really the ubiquity of women in football.”King, like many of the women who have coached in the N.F.L., has played football and other sports. She was on the basketball and softball teams at Guilford College from 2002 to 2006 and was the head basketball coach at Johnson & Wales University Charlotte from 2016 to 2018. King has also played in the Women’s Football Alliance with the Carolina Phoenix, the New York Sharks and the D.C. Divas.“The way she’s worked with the guys, she’s just Coach King to us,” Randy Jordan, Washington’s running backs coach, told The Washington Post in December. “Her input throughout the game, there are things I may not see, and she’ll point it out to me.”“Her input is very, very important not only to me,” he continued, “but to the entire staff. She’s been doing a heck of a job.”Amid an organizational overhaul led by Rivera, the Washington Football Team has hired people of color for significant roles over the past 13 months. The team announced last week that Mayhew, who is Black, would become its general manager, filling a position that has been vacant since 2016. In September, the team added Jason Wright, the first Black team president in the N.F.L., to its front office.Gillian R. Brassil contributed reporting.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    The Talk of the Super Bowl Is Quarterbacks, Except One

    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }Capitol Riot FalloutVisual TimelineInside the SiegeNotable ArrestsCapitol Police in CrisisThe Global Far RightAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storySPORTS OF THE TIMESThe Talk of the Super Bowl Is Quarterbacks, Except OneThe N.F.L. has tried to move on from the controversy over Colin Kaepernick, but recent events suggest his critique of America’s racial climate has remained relevant.Eli Harold, Colin Kaepernick, center, and Eric Reid knelt during the national anthem before an N.F.L. football game against the Seattle Seahawks in 2016.Credit…Ted S. Warren/Associated PressJan. 25, 2021, 3:00 a.m. ETKap was right.Let’s not forget that.Let’s not erase his legacy the way the powers running the N.F.L. would like.As we barrel full steam toward the Super Bowl on Feb. 7, let’s not lose sight of the fact that Colin Kaepernick’s protest — his willingness to oppose the status quo and challenge America’s racial caste system — carried the profound weight of truth.Fans should remember. Team owners and the N.F.L. commissioner, Roger Goodell, should remember.What about the players? Since many of them have dropped their guard and allowed the message to be watered down, they need to remember too.The big game is less than two weeks away, with the Kansas City Chiefs seeking to successfully defend their title against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The narrative will center on quarterbacks, and rightly so. Tom Brady and Patrick Mahomes aren’t just among the greatest to ever play, they are among the most captivating.But years from now, when historians assess the connection between professional sports and the state of the world in the current era, which N.F.L. quarterback will loom largest?I’ll bet on Kaepernick, once among the league’s most electric players, censured and shut out of the game since 2016. Kaepernick, whose kneeling protest during the national anthem tore at the heart of the one sport that most embodies America and its myths.Kaepernick, loved and loathed, celebrated as a champion for justice and denounced by politicians looking to hype racial resentment, no matter the costs.He has not just been at the center of the storm. At times he has been the storm. All of the other quarterbacks are throwing their beautiful spirals while watching safely from afar — careers well intact.We’ve just endured a presidential term of brazen demagogy from a man many N.F.L. owners have considered a great leader and friend. We’ve seen the rise of white supremacy. The stream of police shootings. The killing of George Floyd. Protests, the coronavirus pandemic and the deadly storming of the Capitol.Kaepernick’s critique of America foretold it all.But if you think everything is fine now that there’s a new face in the White House, think again. Remember that he began his protest not under former President Donald J. Trump, but in the waning days of the Obama administration. He knelt not just against the cracking structure of modern day racism, but its faulty foundation, laid down centuries ago and built upon ever since.His shadow still hangs over a league that heads to the Super Bowl acting as if he has never existed. N.F.L. owners — and their chief spokesman, Goodell — would rather slice him from collective memory and move on.“There is nothing more humbling for the billionaires who own N.F.L. teams than to be proven wrong, especially by a Black athlete who is seen as a thorn in their side,” Derrick White, a professor of African-American studies at the University of Kentucky and an expert on race and football, said when we spoke last week.That’s why the league settled the union grievance filed by the former 49ers quarterback and his former teammate Eric Reid. The pair claimed they were blackballed by the N.F.L. for protesting. A multimillion-dollar payout, replete with a confidentiality agreement, was easier to swallow than giving Kaepernick more airtime.After Floyd’s killing and protests against police brutality intensified around the world, Goodell was forced to admit the league had been wrong not to listen to players who had been speaking out against systemic racism for years. He summoned the courage to utter the phrase “Black Lives Matter.” And he carefully avoided mention of Kaepernick.The N.F.L. soon began co-opting the message. Sadly enough, the players have largely gone along with the plan. Kneeling protests waned to a trickle. The riot in Washington seemed to offer a prime opportunity for clamoring, unified protest. It didn’t happen. There were games to be played. Money to be made. Jobs to hold on to. And nobody with Kaepernick’s spine.You have to hand it to the czars of football. They’ve neutralized the message. They made just enough room for the previously unthinkable in a sport so conservative, so connected to the police and the military and the flag. Think of the helmets with the social justice messaging and the names of victims of police shootings, and the pithy phrases painted on the edge of fields.One such phrase: “It Takes All of Us.”Well, all of us clearly does not include Kaepernick. As much as he would like to, he will never play again. This season of chaos, when he wasn’t called upon even as teams were steadily depleted by the virus, put an end to any such hope..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-c7gg1r{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:0.875rem;line-height:0.875rem;margin-bottom:15px;color:#121212 !important;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-c7gg1r{font-size:0.9375rem;line-height:0.9375rem;}}.css-rqynmc{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.9375rem;line-height:1.25rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-rqynmc{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-rqynmc strong{font-weight:600;}.css-rqynmc em{font-style:italic;}.css-yoay6m{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-yoay6m{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1dg6kl4{margin-top:5px;margin-bottom:15px;}.css-16ed7iq{width:100%;display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;-webkit-box-pack:center;-webkit-justify-content:center;-ms-flex-pack:center;justify-content:center;padding:10px 0;background-color:white;}.css-pmm6ed{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;}.css-pmm6ed > :not(:first-child){margin-left:5px;}.css-5gimkt{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.8125rem;font-weight:700;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.03em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.03em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.03em;letter-spacing:0.03em;text-transform:uppercase;color:#333;}.css-5gimkt:after{content:’Collapse’;}.css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;-webkit-transform:rotate(180deg);-ms-transform:rotate(180deg);transform:rotate(180deg);}.css-eb027h{max-height:5000px;-webkit-transition:max-height 0.5s ease;transition:max-height 0.5s ease;}.css-6mllg9{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;position:relative;opacity:0;}.css-6mllg9:before{content:”;background-image:linear-gradient(180deg,transparent,#ffffff);background-image:-webkit-linear-gradient(270deg,rgba(255,255,255,0),#ffffff);height:80px;width:100%;position:absolute;bottom:0px;pointer-events:none;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}.css-1amoy78{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1amoy78{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-1amoy78:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}.css-1amoy78[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-1amoy78[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-1amoy78[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-1amoy78[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-k9atqk{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-k9atqk strong{font-weight:700;}.css-k9atqk em{font-style:italic;}.css-k9atqk a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;border-bottom:1px solid #ccd9e3;}.css-k9atqk a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;border-bottom:1px solid #ddd;}.css-k9atqk a:hover{border-bottom:none;}Capitol Riot FalloutFrom Riot to ImpeachmentThe riot inside the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday, Jan. 6, followed a rally at which President Trump made an inflammatory speech to his supporters, questioning the results of the election. Here’s a look at what happened and the ongoing fallout:As this video shows, poor planning and a restive crowd encouraged by President Trump set the stage for the riot.A two hour period was crucial to turning the rally into the riot.Several Trump administration officials, including cabinet members Betsy DeVos and Elaine Chao, announced that they were stepping down as a result of the riot.Federal prosecutors have charged more than 70 people, including some who appeared in viral photos and videos of the riot. Officials expect to eventually charge hundreds of others.The House voted to impeach the president on charges of “inciting an insurrection” that led to the rampage by his supporters.Another new motto: “End Racism.”This from a league with a long, sordid history of discrimination. A league known to prize Black speed and strength while diminishing Black intelligence and leadership.N.F.L. rosters are 70 percent African-American. There are only two Black head coaches. The league used to tell African-Americans they would get lead jobs if they just put in more patient years learning the craft. Done. Then came an all-too-familiar course correction: The series of recently hired white coaches who are heralded for their genius despite their glaring inexperience.End Racism? Stop with the Orwellian hypocrisy.What if the league had not turned its back on Kaepernick? What if, from the start, it had listened to him and started a sincere dialogue with Black players who emulated his protest?How soon we forget his magnetic talent, lost in the passage of time and obscured by silly arguments that focus on his last struggling seasons leading a 49ers team with little talent and lackluster coaching.To remember his potential, check out the YouTube highlights.Watch his four touchdowns on the frigid New England night in 2012, when he dueled Brady’s Patriots and led the 49ers to a 41-34 win. Skip next to his playoff game in 2013 against Green Bay, when he rushed for 181 yards and outpassed Aaron Rodgers.What might have been is part of the tragedy now. To flourish, the N.F.L. needs singular stars. If Kaepernick had not been rooted from the league, maybe he’s one of the quarterbacks guiding a team to the Super Bowl. Maybe he’s even the talk of it.Of course, you aren’t likely to hear from Kaepernick as we approach the big game. Silence has become his mystique, which fuels an enduring power.So who will do it? Who will bring him up, give him his due and keep telling the story? Who will keep the movement front and center, raw and real, instead of the stuff of manicured public-relations campaigns?What a shame that this is an open question, since there is still so much work to be done.What a shame, because “Kap was right” is not hard to say.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More