Was going through a stack of reading material the other day and was about to throw a Sports Illustrated away when lo and behold in the back there was a major article on Jeremy Wariner, called "The Color of Sport."
The 8-page article is in the Dec. 6 issue, which is now two weeks out of date. It may be on the Internet, but I'll give a brief summary.
Sports Illustrated closely follows the party line on race, so it is no surprise the Wariner piece is PC in all respects except one -- there are frequent message board posts reprinted from unidentified Internet sites concerning Wariner's race and other aspects of his mostly ignored rise to the top of the sprinting world. A few of these are not politically correct and could have been written by Caste Football supporters, but other than that the article by Gary Smith portrays a Wariner who comes across as a poster child for multiculturalism and political correctness.
Wariner's parents were not athletes in any way, but "they bequeathed him something else: an openness to people of all colors and creeds. At the day care center that his mom opened in their home when he was a toddler, Jeremy played with Hot Wheels with a boy who was half-Taiwanese and listened to stories alongside two boys from India. He pieced together puzzles with a pair of African American boys and raced around the house with the two half-Japanese boys who lived behind him."
Wariner is quoted: "I was brought up to believe that a person is a person."
He was forced to take Ritalin as a young boy because of his energy. After taking up track in middle school "his voice inflections changed. A little bounce came into his walk. Like many white suburban kids watching hip hop videos, he began wearing baggier clothes. . . The alternative rock he'd favored in middle school disappeared from his radio. Off he'd roll in his car, driving his new track buddies home after practice, Jay-Z and Lil' Wayne booming from the speakers. 'He just molds to the environment he's in,' says teammate Korey Wright."
In high school, "Half of the kids were of African, Asian or hispanic descent. More and more, that was the half he hung with. Pookie (the nickname given Wariner by blacks) came to a few conclusions about African Americans. 'They aren't judgmental,' he says. 'They don't worry as much about popularity.'"
Wariner claims to be unaware of any racial divides or differences because of the way his mother raised him. "I've heard about racists on TV, but I've never seen a racist. I've never seen racism."
After his sophomore year at Baylor, Wariner moved into an off-campus house with two blacks and one other white, all members of the track and field team. He wanted to let his curly hair grow out so that he could braid it, but didn't like the curls and went back to a buzz cut.
Wariner has "no interest in making social statements." On race he is quoted as saying, "My generation doesn't see color the way others did. I never felt that barrier. Just be yourself, have fun and don't let nothin' bother you. It's not about how you look. It's about how you feel, and I feel more comfortable looking the way I look."
Wariner turned pro after the Olympics. His agent is former superstar sprinter Michael Johnson, and his manager is black former Baylor sprinter Deon Minor.
Wariner's black teammates are his closest friends. The article's real kicker though is this -- his girlfriend is a black girl named Michelle Milton.
Wariner's coach, Clyde Hart, is presented as a virtual angel of the civil rights movement, for integrating the Southwest Conference with black track & field athletes. He does have one decent quote however: "There's absolutely been a barrier for white sprinters in America. There's a stigma there. White kids think that it's a black kids' sport, that blacks are superior. There are plenty of white kids with fast-twitch fibers, but they've got to get off their rumps. Too many of them would rather go fast on their computers in a fantasy world. It's not about genes, although they may play some part in it. It's about do you want it badly enough?"
So there you have it. Jeremy Wariner quite obviously is not going to be speaking on behalf of white athletes and white interests anytime soon. But we've already discussed this and realize that the important thing is his accomplishments, whether he realizes the implications of them or not, and he obviously doesn't. In that way he's no different than many of this generation of white kids who have grown up knowing nothing but black culture and the lauding of everything black over everything white. It's up to us to make the intellectual and moral aspects of this topic better understood, not individual white athletes.
The 8-page article is in the Dec. 6 issue, which is now two weeks out of date. It may be on the Internet, but I'll give a brief summary.
Sports Illustrated closely follows the party line on race, so it is no surprise the Wariner piece is PC in all respects except one -- there are frequent message board posts reprinted from unidentified Internet sites concerning Wariner's race and other aspects of his mostly ignored rise to the top of the sprinting world. A few of these are not politically correct and could have been written by Caste Football supporters, but other than that the article by Gary Smith portrays a Wariner who comes across as a poster child for multiculturalism and political correctness.
Wariner's parents were not athletes in any way, but "they bequeathed him something else: an openness to people of all colors and creeds. At the day care center that his mom opened in their home when he was a toddler, Jeremy played with Hot Wheels with a boy who was half-Taiwanese and listened to stories alongside two boys from India. He pieced together puzzles with a pair of African American boys and raced around the house with the two half-Japanese boys who lived behind him."
Wariner is quoted: "I was brought up to believe that a person is a person."
He was forced to take Ritalin as a young boy because of his energy. After taking up track in middle school "his voice inflections changed. A little bounce came into his walk. Like many white suburban kids watching hip hop videos, he began wearing baggier clothes. . . The alternative rock he'd favored in middle school disappeared from his radio. Off he'd roll in his car, driving his new track buddies home after practice, Jay-Z and Lil' Wayne booming from the speakers. 'He just molds to the environment he's in,' says teammate Korey Wright."
In high school, "Half of the kids were of African, Asian or hispanic descent. More and more, that was the half he hung with. Pookie (the nickname given Wariner by blacks) came to a few conclusions about African Americans. 'They aren't judgmental,' he says. 'They don't worry as much about popularity.'"
Wariner claims to be unaware of any racial divides or differences because of the way his mother raised him. "I've heard about racists on TV, but I've never seen a racist. I've never seen racism."
After his sophomore year at Baylor, Wariner moved into an off-campus house with two blacks and one other white, all members of the track and field team. He wanted to let his curly hair grow out so that he could braid it, but didn't like the curls and went back to a buzz cut.
Wariner has "no interest in making social statements." On race he is quoted as saying, "My generation doesn't see color the way others did. I never felt that barrier. Just be yourself, have fun and don't let nothin' bother you. It's not about how you look. It's about how you feel, and I feel more comfortable looking the way I look."
Wariner turned pro after the Olympics. His agent is former superstar sprinter Michael Johnson, and his manager is black former Baylor sprinter Deon Minor.
Wariner's black teammates are his closest friends. The article's real kicker though is this -- his girlfriend is a black girl named Michelle Milton.
Wariner's coach, Clyde Hart, is presented as a virtual angel of the civil rights movement, for integrating the Southwest Conference with black track & field athletes. He does have one decent quote however: "There's absolutely been a barrier for white sprinters in America. There's a stigma there. White kids think that it's a black kids' sport, that blacks are superior. There are plenty of white kids with fast-twitch fibers, but they've got to get off their rumps. Too many of them would rather go fast on their computers in a fantasy world. It's not about genes, although they may play some part in it. It's about do you want it badly enough?"
So there you have it. Jeremy Wariner quite obviously is not going to be speaking on behalf of white athletes and white interests anytime soon. But we've already discussed this and realize that the important thing is his accomplishments, whether he realizes the implications of them or not, and he obviously doesn't. In that way he's no different than many of this generation of white kids who have grown up knowing nothing but black culture and the lauding of everything black over everything white. It's up to us to make the intellectual and moral aspects of this topic better understood, not individual white athletes.
