Those of us involved in sports on a daily basis sometimes have difficulty accepting situations without clear-cut outcomes. We're used to winners and losers, heroes and enemies, champions and runners-up.
That's what made the decisions regarding whether or not to play the games so difficult for those in charge. Sports is a big part of American daily life, and the television airwaves were filled with accredited psychologists suggesting the best thing this country could do was return to normal life as quickly as possible and that large public events have a way of re-energizing our spirit. Who amongst us can forget, whether there or watching on TV, the rousing rendition of San Francisco sung by 62,000 earthquake survivors before game three of the 1989 World Series at Candlestick Park? And what about Whitney Houston's heart thumping rendition of The Star Spangled Banner prior to Super Bowl XXV at the height of The Gulf War? The nation was divided as to whether it was appropriate to hold that game while America's sons and daughters risked their lives half a world away. After Houston's performance and the inspired play of the Bills and Giants that afternoon and evening, it was clear that holding the game helped people unite around a common experience and feel good about being Americans. Perhaps only Scott Norwood regrets that the game took place.
It has been brought up over and over that cinemas in London remained open while the British Isles faced almost daily air attacks from the Nazis. The ideology is clear: that it would be healthy to remove ourselves somewhat from the image of planes smashing into landmarks and skyscrapers collapsing, of victim's family members pleading for help in discovering their loved one's fate, of accounts of the heroic last moments of hijacked passengers plotting to foil their captors, and of talking heads pontificating as to what this all means and where we go from here have resonated with many.
Yes, it would have been easy to justify carrying on with the games. There were lots of intriguing match ups, from the Dodgers invading PacBell Park for a showdown series with Barry Bonds and the Giants to the Monday night battle between the Ravens and Vikings in what some called a Super Bowl preview. Folks in SEC country were surely looking forward to the Florida-Tennessee game, and it's always a good week for golf fans when Tiger Woods is entered in the upcoming tournament. We could have sold it as a national weekend of healing with appropriate ceremonies, uniform patches, and moments of silence.
Yet, when the moment of truth came, we were better than that. We opted for a weekend of reflection and respect. We opted for a weekend where the rescue workers, the victims and their loved ones, and the sobering gravity of the event retained center stage. Movie theatres have remained open, and networks like HBO and ESPN Classic have resumed normal schedules. People who need to escape can, and they should feel free to do so. In the end, though, it seemed a little obscene to those in charge to hold events where thousands of people would gather and cheer events glorified by sports highlight shows and print coverage. And it would have been more indecorous to continue with events often held in stadiums and arenas within hailing distance of great buildings that are no more-buildings that now bury our fellow citizens.
When baseball resumed, most of us were ready to put it in its proper perspective. We have eased into the national sports scene again. A few baseball games, a little exhibition hockey, some Thursday night college football and then a return to a full slate of sports action-pro football, golf, auto racing and the rest. By then America can begin to feel a bit better about turning its attention to something that doesn't really matter. But, sports will be an important part of that "feeling better" process.
I feel better now.
I'm Ron Barr.
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