Stick To What You Know

As the hoopla from February 4th’s Super Bowl subsides and people like me settle into a six-month hibernation before preseason ball starts up again, there is one facet of the big game that we’ll see for weeks, maybe months to come. From a FedEx spot about fittingly-named co-workers to an Emerald Nuts ad serving to resurrect the career of an obscure Canadian singer, it’s the game’s commercials that get everyone—from the most casual of observers to the self-described fanatics like yours truly—pumped for the ultimate lesson in how to be an American couch potato.

But this year, a few ads tried to do a little bit more. Conveniently using the fact that it’s Black History Month, Frito-Lay and Coca-Cola attempted to elevate the impact of the game and its commercials to a place where they shouldn’t go.

The former ad featured a collection of families—all black—sitting around watching the game, while an announcer’s words remarked about the significance of having two black head coaches—Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith—in the Super Bowl. A caption asks, “Who’s winning?” to which the reply states, “We all are.”

In the latter spot, prominent moments in black American history are listed next to a shape-changing Coke bottle. At the conclusion, we’re informed that “Coca-Cola Celebrates Black History,” and, after a brief pause, “Especially Today.”

I applaud the effect of these ads—they provided a much-needed contrast with some of the more outlandish (and only sometimes funny) spots serving the interests of the beer and car companies that usually dominate the airwaves during the game. Certainly, both Dungy and Smith deserve recognition, not simply for being black, but for having the character to serve as role models for the black community and fathers and coaches everywhere. Overzealous coaches show us who not to be: conformists to negative stereotypes, deadbeat dads, and angry, cold Bill Belichick-esque football dictators.

But to claim that the fact that there are two black coaches heading the teams in the Super Bowl represents some kind of grand achievement in the history of the race is insulting to the accomplishments of those who came before them. It belittles and downplays the immeasurable significance of the events that Coke lumps in with the Super Bowl. The two black guys in Miami in 2007 paled in comparison to the man in Washington, D.C. in 1963, the woman in Montgomery in 1955, or—the original barrier-breaking pioneer in the athletic world—the man who wore number 42 in Brooklyn in 1947.

It’s of the utmost importance that we celebrate our heritage, but of equal importance is proper perspective. Frito-Lay and Coca-Cola, so intent on feeding the niche market that is tired of seeing grown men kissing and ripping their chest hair out, have failed to keep that in mind.

It’s not something that can be attributed to the companies alone, however. At the very least, they can be commended for using Dungy and Smith’s achievements as a way of publicizing Black History Month. A number of various commentators and columnists have done nothing of the sort, only christening the Super Bowl as some kind of validation for years of uncertainty regarding the ability of black coaches.

In short, they’re wrong. Having two black coaches was great, but it proved little that we didn’t already know. Anyone with any football knowledge was previously aware that these two were among the best. They’d both come within shouting distance of the big game in seasons past—Dungy had been head coach in two conference championship games prior to this year while Smith was two games away from the Super Bowl just a season ago.

In addition, their tangible achievements aren’t a testament to social progress—it is football, after all. The winners and losers aren’t chosen subjectively—they’re chosen on the field. And as important as the coaches are, they only have so much control over what happens between the hash marks. True, an element of advancement exists in the naming of a black coach in the first place, but those benchmarks have long been passed by Dungy and Smith (in 1996 and 2004, respectively).

A certain charismatic and “articulate” presidential candidate finds himself in a similar situation. The potential appearance of the first black candidate with a legitimate shot to win on a major party’s ballot is an exciting time for everyone, but Barack Obama should be championed for his personal achievements and not used as a spokesperson chosen to represent the struggle of all blacks in all of history. Granted, I think most would agree that a win from Obama late next year would have slightly more lasting reverberations for us all, but in the context of their individual relationships to the future history of race, the parallel exists.

After the game, even Tony Dungy himself deflected praise placed upon him, instead dedicating his achievements to those who have come before. That’s where our focus should be, too.

The makers of Doritos are right in their statement that we’re all winning. But it has little to do with who coached in the Super Bowl.

Malcom A. Glenn ’09 is a history concentrator in Leverett House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.