Hockey legend Wayne Gretzky once famously advised athletes to “say nothing when you win, and when you lose, say less.”
The mark of a true professional in Gretzky’s heyday was to be modest in victory and dignified in defeat — it was the mark of class. Even when deflection felt forced, such as when Gretzky would credit his teammates in the postgame interview after scoring a hat trick, the standard was a good one. More than unappealing, self-praise is self-defeating, as it does nothing to attract further praise but just the opposite. Or, as Lord Byron put it: “Self-praise is no praise at all.”
It’s been remarkable to witness the shift in standards for public self-celebration over the past few decades in American sports, from which much can be gleaned about the state of our culture. The 21st century has seen the rise of elaborate touchdown celebrations by football players in the endzone, which now often include choreographed dances with the whole team — given the horrid state of blocking in the NFL, I wish my team spent more time practicing its schemes than its endzone two-step. It has seen the normalization of the ostentatious bat flip following a home run stroke. It has seen the rise of signature celebrations by NBA stars, from LeBron James’s elaborate “Silencer” routine to Steph Curry’s “night night” celebration.
Long gone are the days of legendary NFL running back Barry Sanders, who once explained his muted response to scoring a touchdown in the following way: “Act like you’ve been there before — and that you’re going there again.”
The self-praise movement seemed to reach its zenith in the aftermath of the U.S. women’s soccer team’s 2019 World Cup title. Parading through New York City on a float, team star Megan Rapinoe held up the trophy and repeatedly shouted, “I deserve this!” The incident became something like a cultural Rorschach Test; progressives perceived Rapinoe’s celebration as a laudable act of subversiveness, in which a powerful woman expressed unflinching pride in her own achievement, while traditional Americans saw the embodiment of the “Me Me Me Generation.”
Regardless of which side got it right, Rapinoe’s brazen boast brought all of the attention to herself, which was the point, of course. And given the cultural trend in recent decades, it is clear that she represents the mainstream, not her detractors. As liberal commentator Joy Reid correctly opined following last year’s Grammy Awards, the culture war is over, and the Left won.
As such, it’s been a shock to witness the skyrocketing popularity of Houston Texans quarterback C.J. Stroud in recent months. The leading contender to win NFL Rookie of the Year honors, Stroud has become a hero of traditional Americans for his astoundingly articulate and sincere deflection of praise away from himself and toward Jesus in postgame interviews. Following Stroud’s performance earlier this month, in which he led the Texans to an unlikely playoff berth, the young quarterback’s thoughts were far from self-glorification: “I’m just blessed enough to be the vessel that Christ picked to lead this great franchise,” he told ESPN’s Lisa Salters on the sidelines. “So I could do nothing but just thank the Lord.”
For a young man of 22, let alone a young man who grew up in a small apartment above a storage facility — at one point, the Strouds nearly went homeless — the lack of self-regard following such a monumental achievement was revelatory. Rather than glorify himself at a moment when gaudy self-glorification has become the cultural norm, Stroud was instead overcome with gratitude toward the giver of all gifts, and America’s heart and soul were stirred by the almost forgotten warmth of a bygone age. That’s what it looks like to be a winner, we remembered. That’s what it looks like to be bigger than a mere moment in time.
When Stroud led the Texans to a playoff victory this past Sunday against the Cleveland Browns — he is now the youngest quarterback in NFL history to win a playoff game — the rookie sensation once more gave all thanks and praise to the Lord in his postgame interview aired on NBC: “First and foremost, I just want to give all glory to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,” Stroud said on the sideline while catching his breath.
But unless you caught the interview live, you wouldn’t have heard Stroud utter this line. In a move that has drawn enormous criticism online, NBC cut this sentence from the interview it later posted on X and made it appear as if Stroud immediately proceeded to talk about himself.
It’s clear why NBC would make such a cynical move: it, like every other major media company outside of Fox, has aligned with the values of the new mainstream as embodied by Rapinoe and company — can anyone imagine them cutting sentences out of one of her interviews? Corporate media is heavily invested in promulgating the “me me me” cultural trend. Stroud’s profound religiosity does not simply run counter to mainstream norms — he is an active threat to the dominance of mainstream culture’s corporate sponsors. If he and other cultural rebels chip away at the American imagination, NBC and its ilk lose big time.
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The word magnanimity is derived from the Latin term magnus animus, meaning “great soul.” It is clear that Stroud’s magnanimous postgame comments enlarge not only his profile but also the very best values of traditional American culture.
The Texans play the Baltimore Ravens in the divisional round on Saturday. The winner will move on to the AFC Championship game. I know who I’ll be rooting for.
Peter Laffin is a contributor at the Washington Examiner. His work has also appeared in RealClearPolitics, the Catholic Thing, and the National Catholic Register.