The only person hated more than a supremely confident individual is a supremely confident Black individual.
It’s an issue that has long existed for Black athletes. Their self-confidence, coupled with their hard work and attitude create a package that breeds success and hatred.
Yet that’s not self-hatred.
We’ve witnessed athletes with this type of unrelenting confidence be labeled as arrogant. These are athletes fans hold great contempt for and wish for nothing but their downfall. They even tune in simply to root against them and revel in their failure.
Now, cheering for an opposing athlete or a team to lose is an expected part of sports.
But with Black athletes, “arrogant” is oftentimes followed by derogatory words and phrases that white athletes don’t receive, and that’s where fandom ends and racism begins.
Confident Black athletes generate a type of venom in some that inspires ignorance and often exposes racist feelings. It’s an anger that aims to belittle, humiliate, demean and hurt.
These are fans who believe that their fandom and monetary support entitle them to the right to spew hatred.
And don’t let a Black athlete stand up for themselves or a cause outside of football that rocks the social norm. They’re instantly vilified and shunned by society. Just ask John Carlos, Tommy Smith and Colin Kaepernick about being ostracized and expelled.
Even expression can cause vile reactions. During Texas’ game against Alabama on September 9th, dancing Longhorns players were verbally abused by a group of fans who unleashed a racist, homophobic tirade against them.
“Go back to the projects, fa****s,” screamed the fans. Normally Africa is the preferred destination of racists, but apparently, they took the domestic racist route instead.
Less than two weeks ago, Vikings running back Alexander Madison was inundated with racist messages on social media after the team lost to the Eagles.
These incidents exemplify the torment Black athletes have experienced since they first stepped on a field of play, only now more platforms and outlets exist to expose the racist treatment they receive.
With Black athletes, the adjectives quickly morph into humiliating daggers aimed solely at their skin color or physical attributes, a disgusting and denigrating experience white athletes aren’t subjected to.
Just ask Sha’Carri Richardson about some of the hate she’s received since she first turned pro simply because she’s unapologetic about her self-confidence.
The latest target of hatred is Colorado Buffaloes head football coach, Deion Sanders, and after Saturday night’s bad loss to Oregon, the floodgates of venom flung open.
Some fans who jumped on the Coach Prime bandwagon quickly jumped off after the Buffaloes’ loss. Others took the time to savor Sanders’ first loss of the season through mockery and commentary. Those responses “ain’t hard to find,” as Coach Prime would say.
These horrible fans want Sanders to fail because they don’t want to see an overtly confident Black man succeed. They will argue that Sanders is arrogant and that has some merit.
But don’t be fooled into thinking the hatred revolves solely around his unabashed deep belief in himself and his purpose and blind yourself to his complexion not playing a major part in the hatred.
It exists, and it also exists differently depending upon the darkness of a Black athlete’s skin tone, but that’s another story.
Deion Sanders has brought Black families together on Saturday to watch the Buffaloes, a phenomenon I wrote about previously. But he’s also brought out those who seek to belittle and mock him.
Some of it is humorous like the Oregon Duck mascot wearing shades and attacking a “Primetime” clock before Oregon’s game against Colorado last night.
But some of it is vicious and racist.
Sanders has created an unparalleled vibe in college football that’s boosted everything from ticket and merchandise sales to social exposure and network ratings. His style, swagger, coaching and attitude have attracted players, fans, the media and detractors in a way that no one has in college sports.
Even the traditionally boring postgame handshakes have become a must-see, viral moment when Deion is involved.
And contrary to those who feel that race has nothing to do with it, being Black plays a major role in Deion’s takeover and the reactions it elicits.
Coach Prime understands the role Blackness plays in the situation and doesn’t deflect it. Instead, he celebrates it.
“When you see a confident Black man, sitting up in here, talking his talk, walking his walk, coaching 75% African Americans in the locker room. That’s kind of threatening,” said Sanders.
He also fully recognizes that what he’s creating and selling attracts a range of reactions and results, some severely extreme. But to his credit, Deion doesn’t shy away from it or who he is.
“One thing that I can say honestly and candidly, you better get me right now,” exclaimed a smiling Sanders after Saturday’s loss to Oregon. “This is the worst we’re going to be. You better get me right now.”
Deion Sanders is a refreshing and exciting case study in college football. It’s a sport rooted in tradition that celebrates winning but detests personalities that differ from the established culture.
While forces clamoring for his humbling will always exist, there are many others who support and revel in the path he’s building.
Yet no matter what side you’re on, everyone benefits from being involved in what he’s creating.
And that process of creation involves Deion Sanders being a coach, a father, and yes, being Black.
