When I first read this, I pretty much ignored it. The longer I mulled it over, though, the more angry I became. I like Frank Deford, but his view on our jingoism is off-base. I am proof of it.
Deford opines that we Americans only like sporting events with Americans in it. Well, Mr. Deford, let me introduce myself. I'm an American sports fan living in metropolitan Detroit, right smack in the middle of cow country, as one of my fellow American internet friends out east called it. I've been known to root for the Red, White and Blue, as well. I'm suspecting I may well be the stereotype of the jingoist you have outlined.
Unfortunately, I've got some bad news. I love the Tour de France. I've watched it for years. Like fifteen or twenty years. Not just since Lance Armstrong appeared. Do I get extra credit for being able to spit out Miguel Indurain's name?
I attempt to follow European soccer. I've developed an attachment to Premier League club, Everton. (Yes, I know. My readers are tired of hearing this. I talking to Mr. Deford, right now, okay?) My favorite Everton player is Tim Cahill. He's Australian, by the way.
I'm all geeked up about Germany 2006. When the World Cup came here, I went. I saw Brazil take on Holland. Not a single American on the pitch.
Wimbledon is one of my favorite sporting events. The French Open is pretty cool, too. Given my choice, I'll take open wheel racing over the stock car boys. I try to follow the Canadian Football League, but, of course, Americans do have the audacity to play there. (To make you feel better, Mr. Deford, they do have import rules, though. It's got to be a NAFTA thing.)
I enjoy watching golf overseas either late at night or early in the morning. The events from Australia, the ANZ Tour, I believe, are particularly fun. I'm usually plowing snow out of my drive and come in to see golfers struggling in ninety degree heat Down Under. Only an occasional fellow countryman appears, yet somehow I manage to watch.
Roland Garros is clay court. The courts at the All England Club are grass. I've got no idea what they play the Australian Open on, but I think it's safe to assume that it isn't something found in nature.
I know the difference between Boris Becker and Franz Beckenbauer. Michael Schumacher's brother is Ralf. I know what the R & A is. Not bad for one of those jingoistic Americans, huh? Imagine how much more I would know if the internet existed when I was young?
I'm sure Mr. Deford would counter that I am the exception to the rule. That may indeed be the case, but why are only Americans jingoistic for following their teams and their sports?
For instance, I know that Real Madrid has David Beckham, Michael Owen and Zinedine Zidane on their roster. I wonder how many on the streets of Madrid know three of my Detroit Lions? Hey, I know three of their footballers, shouldn't they be required to recognize three of mine?
Since Real Madrid may be international football's most noteworthy club, I'll forgive the citizens of Madrid for not knowing any of my historically crummy Lions. But, I'll bet they cannot name three New England Patriots, either. Doesn't that make them jingoistic, too?
Nope, what it makes them are products of their sports environment. We grew up in the U.S.A. with an entirely different set of sports at the forefront. I don't believe that Americans are any more or less jingoistic than the rest of the world simply because a majority of us aren't passionate about Formula One.
I believe that the overwhelming majority of sports fans worldwide root for their nation and their nation's athletes first. They know more about their local pro team than the team on the other end of the country or the other end of the world. That may be jingoism, but it's hardly an American phenomenon.
Instead of attempting to elevate the stature of some of the world's top sports stars with Americans, Mr. Deford chose to take the opportunity to ridicule the sophistication and intelligence of his reading audience. It makes Mr. Deford's commentary look elitist, at best. Anti-American, at worst.
After nearly 230 years as an independent nation, Americans still find themselves having to explain their interests, or lack their of, to the Old World. Or, at least, to old sports writers.
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