Sports in a time of crisis
Oliver Bateman
The current state of the world has the news fraught with grim headlines that call for, as we now do in bad times, doomscrolling. A devastating war in Ukraine claims tens of thousands of lives. In Israel, each new day reveals something darker. These crises drag in the wake of a global pandemic that killed millions and led to widespread shutdowns of society, as well as the disruptive “social justice” protests that spread across the globe in 2020. In times like these, it’s common to question the merit of taking our collective attention off the horrors and outrages of the world and directing it to that other section of the newspaper, or that other live broadcast channel, the one labeled “Sports.”
As you read this, the war in the Middle East started by Hamas terrorists threatens to expand into an even bigger and more horrifying regional conflagration, even as the best time of the year for professional and college sports fans who love football and basketball and baseball draws attention to other, much more delightful areas. But is it right to love spectator sports even as the world around us appears to fray? The act of turning away from the world’s sufferings to watch or play a game may seem, to some, a neglect of our moral duties. “Sports, now?” some ask.
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This question isn’t new. Since mass media began, it has been raised repeatedly in the shadow of each global and national emergency, be it war, disease, or social unrest. It’s easy to articulate the criticism of athletics, fundamentally leisure pastimes, as unserious and unworthy of big moments. Why prioritize leisure when there is so much suffering, so much to fight for? This argument, however, misses something fundamental about what history actually felt like when it was the present for the people who were living in it: namely, the constant presence of catastrophe. Human history is a never-ending cycle of emergencies — wars, plagues, the rise and fall of empires, and the inevitable end that is death. If we can’t love games when the stakes are high, we never can.
Throughout history, entertainment in the form of organized sports has proved resilient, often flourishing not despite but because of crisis and calamity. The Roman Empire, with its grand arenas and the blood-soaked sand of its coliseums, offers a stark example. Even as the Empire waned, beset by economic troubles, political corruption, and external threats, its people continued to flock to gladiatorial contests. These spectacles, which offered an escape from the mundanity and peril of everyday life, persisted for centuries. It was only with the rise of Christian ethics, straitened imperial budgets, and changing social norms under Emperor Honorius that they were finally abolished in 404 CE, marking a significant cultural shift.
Similarly, the original Olympic Games in ancient Greece stood as a cornerstone of Hellenic culture. The Games, held every four years without fail from 700 BCE, were so integral to Greek society that even during periods of strife and warfare, they were rarely interrupted. The Olympic truce, or “ekecheiria,” was a sacred peace that allowed athletes, artists, and their families safe passage to participate in the Games. The Games were not only a display of physical prowess but also a unifying force that transcended the often fractious city-states of Greece.
Across the Atlantic and millennia later, the American Civil War provides another striking example of the significance of sports, even in the nation’s darkest hour. Union and Confederate soldiers alike would put down their rifles to engage in games of baseball behind the lines, even if accounts of games between the two sides are most likely apocryphal. This shared pastime offered a sense of normality and camaraderie amid the conflict.
During World War II, even as the nation marshaled its resources for the global conflict, Major League Baseball and the National Football League continued to operate. Although stadiums were often emptier and teams were composed of older players unfit for war service, the games went on. The service academies during World War II not only continued to field college football teams, but produced some of the best college teams in the history of the sport. (Under Earl “Red” Blaik, the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, “Army,” won national titles in 1944, 1945, and 1946.)
After the 9/11 attacks, the swift return of professional sports was hailed as a triumph. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the UFC and other sports provided a welcome distraction for fans confined to their homes, and the resumption of full competition signified a return to normal despite controversies over governmental overreach and the intermingling of sports with social justice movements.
The idea that sports are trivial doesn’t diminish them; sports are a triviality that is important, and this contradiction is simply one that has to be accepted instead of resolved to understand what function athletics actually play in society. As a historian, athlete, and sports writer, I’ve often been accused of trivializing my life with my focus on the “play of boys and girls.” But this perspective is shortsighted. For many, sports represent a necessary respite from the relentless grind of daily life, which is itself shaped by these larger crises. We are not all world leaders or influential figures who can directly affect global events. For most, our influence is limited, our actions confined to the small spheres of our personal and professional lives.
What, then, can we do with the limited leisure time at our disposal? Consider the story of my grandfather as a poignant illustration. Born into the grinding poverty of 1920s Appalachia, his early life was defined by a struggle that few today can truly comprehend. Set to work at the tender age of 10, his youth offered few comforts and little respite from the toil demanded by the hardscrabble life of his time and place. Yet, within this stark tableau of early 20th-century poverty, he found solace in the simple pleasures of sports.
Those stolen moments where he could huddle around a radio, just within earshot of the thrilling narrative of a baseball game, provided a brief escape from his daily struggles. Later, as he shared a television screen with others, the collective experience of witnessing athletic prowess offered not only a communal sense of awe but also an individual moment of internal peace. The power of sports to uplift spirits was never more evident than during his military service in World War II. Dispatched to the Pacific aboard the USS Sealion, his diary entries weren’t preoccupied with the grim tasks of war but with the fortunes of his beloved Pittsburgh Pirates. His attention to their progress, the scores, and the play-by-plays was more than a mere distraction; it was an assertion that life goes on in an otherwise chaotic and life-threatening situation. Even amid the duties aboard a submarine, his competitive spirit shone through, as evidenced by the accounts of his racing shipmates, with one crew member recounting his “Olympic speed.” This competitive streak was not a denial of the war’s gravity but a testament to one man’s enduring humanity in the face of it.
Whether personally engaging in the physical struggle of the sport or vicariously living through the achievements of athletes, these moments grant us a respite from the inevitable adversities of life. Engagement with sports, what Johan Huizinga called “the play-element in culture,” is not merely a diversion; it’s a fundamental component of our cultural fabric. It always has been. If these are dark times, well … sports, now.
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Oliver Bateman is a journalist, historian, and publishes the Oliver Bateman Does the Work Substack. Visit his website: www.oliverbateman.com.