| | Will he, or won't he? That is the tantalizing question looming over Saturday's Colorado-Texas A&M contest.
|  | | Now you see it, now you don't: Colorado coach Gary Barnett still hasn't decided which helmet his team will wear Saturday. |
Will Colorado coach Gary Barnett follow through on his Wednesday threat to strip the Buffalo logo off the side of his 0-4 team's helmets, or will he acquiesce? The threat itself might serve as motivation enough for his embarrassed and embittered team.
"I don't like it a whole lot," defensive end Brady McDonnell told the Denver Post. "I think it's degrading for us. We need to work hard to get that back. We're the Colorado Buffaloes of today, and we've got to prove it. It hurts. I'm not going to lie. Taking the decal off and saying we're not Buffaloes hurts."
It is merely a thin piece of colored plastic worth only a few cents. Why, then, has Barnett's threat to strip off the Buffalo logo become such a charged issue? Why did the posing antics of the U.S. 4x100 men's relay in Sydney receive such unflagging criticism? Why did San Francisco 49ers wide receiver Terrell Owens strike such a nerve when he disrespected the sanctity of the Dallas Cowboys' star two weeks ago in Texas Stadium?
Because, as sociologist Dr. Harry Edwards pointed out Friday afternoon, we are the star, we are that Buffalo.
"It's not just a star or a Buffalo," said Edwards, from his office in Santa Clara, Ca., where he is a consultant to the 49ers. "Those insignias are extensions of the mascots, the uniform, the banners and all the things we project into those symbols. They arouse us, they validate us, they give us a rallying point.
"The only difference between Clark Kent and Superman is the uniform. The only thing different is the "S" on the chest. That's why it's there. That's what separates us from them. In our own perception, it's what we are."
Edwards, who teaches at the University of California at Berkeley, goes a step further.
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“ |
Those insignias are extensions of the
mascots, the uniform, the banners and all the
things we project into those symbols. They arouse
us, they validate us, they give us a rallying point.
The only difference between Clark Kent and
Superman is the uniform. The only thing different
is the "S" on the chest. ” |
|
|
— Dr. Harry Edwards |
"In this country, sports functions as a secular religion," he said. "It is the focus of our most deeply felt convictions and conventions, as far as secular life is concerned. It encompasses our hard work and tradition.
"What people saw T.O. doing in Dallas was painful because he was disrespecting the insignia. It was a thrust into the side of the secular, spiritual heart of everybody who stands at attention and identifies with the star."
Our sentimental attachment to sports logos is in direct conflict with the attitude that prevails today in big-time sports, on and off the field.
The marketing people have learned over the years that changing logos and uniform designs means higher sales. I have personally witnessed this phenomenon; during a preseason game at New England I shelled out $35 for a new and improved (new numbers, silver trim!) Drew Bledsoe uniform for my 9-year-old son. This from the team that cast off the original, John Hannah-look-alike Patriot logo a few years ago and went with a new-wave hybrid of Bill Parcells and Elvis Presley.
Through focus groups and sales, professional teams have learned that menacing logos invariably sell better. The San Jose Sharks' teeth-crunching icon is a modern classic. So good-bye to the benign countenance of the old Detroit Tigers and the Chicago Bulls logos and hello to the snarling images we have today. When the Denver Broncos lost miserably to the Jacksonville Jaguars in the 1997 playoffs, they changed their elegant Bronco into a steed with an attitude. Was it a coincidence that the Broncos turned around and won two consecutive Super Bowls? Not in the minds of their fans.
One of the bubbling controversies around the country is the issue of Native-American sports logos. In Marquette, Mich., the issue divided the town; old-timers liked the warrior chief logo, but Native-Americans, the biggest minority in the school district, said it was demeaning and insulting. The debate over the Cleveland Indians' Chief Wahoo and the Atlanta Braves Tomahawk chop rages still.
The politics of correctness aside, I prefer the old-style logos. The simpler, I think, the better. When the New York Giants decided to pull out the artificial turf at Giants Stadium this year and replace it with grass, I was among the first to applaud. The return of old "NY" logo on the helmet was a welcome sight, too.
Homer Jones, my favorite player as a kid, wore those initials on his navy blue helmet. He played wide receiver from 1964-69 and is credited with the invention of the spike after a touchdown. For Jones, it was an emphatic, exuberant, ecstatic response. In the more than 30 years that have passed, Jones' innocent celebration has congealed into Owens' celebration of self and, worse, the degradation of an opponent.
Edwards sees a direct link between Jones and Owens. And while he does not condone what Owens did -- he wonders, frankly, why the situation wasn't corrected when it occurred the first time in Dallas -- Edwards understands it.
"You can trace a direct line from Homer Jones to Muhammad Ali straight through to Dennis Rodman, from Tommy Smith and John Carlos to the preening and posturing of the guys in Sydney," Edwards said. "The difference is, Ali and and Smith and Carlos had deep societal convictions in the context of a broad social movement. And then the movement suffered entropy. In the absence of a movement, self-transformation precedes social transformation. Self-transformation degenerates into self-absorbtion. People are merely saying, 'Look at me. Look at how great I am.' "
While Jones' spikes were more innocent, so, too was his life, Edwards noted. This generation of young black athletes, Edwards said, traveled a different road to that place, the end zone.
"Tupac and Biggie Smalls weren't just signing gangster songs. They got shot, and they're dead," Edwards said. "Homer Jones never got shot at. These kids today have been shot at. They have battled literally for their lives. The conventions of sport -- Paul Brown's advice to 'Act like you've been there' when you reach the end zone -- means nothing to them.
"This generation of athletes comes out of a troubled environment that requires additional space to celebrate. They're saying, 'I have not only achieved, I have survived.' That's why you're seeing them go way over the line and out of the box."
Contrary to widespread reports, Barnett is not likely to make a final decision until just before game time. He didn't speak to the media on the subject Thursday and was unavailable for comment Friday because the team was in transit to Texas.
"I see his point," free safety Robbie Robertson said. "I know what he's getting at. He's right. But I don't know if that's motivation. I don't know if that's the way to motivate us, by stripping us of something like that.
"I know I take that pretty seriously, being a Buffalo, whether we're 4-0 or 0-4. I still call myself a Buffalo."
Greg Garber is a senior writer for ESPN.com. | |
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