To Kneel, or not to Kneel?

The "Star-Spangled Banner" is as much a part of sports in America as tailgating, "Fenway Franks," and overpriced ballpark beer.  It has consistently been played or sung before sporting events since the days of Babe Ruth and World War I.  When sung correctly (Whitney Houston), it can bring people to tears of joy and national pride.  When sung in mockery (Roseanne), everyone is horrified and Francis Scott Key rolls in his grave (which is just a few blocks from where I'm typing this).  Sports sociologists (yes - that's a thing!) defend this practice by saying that our National Anthem is a battle song (there's that line about rockets glaring and bombs bursting and what-not), and it should motivate athletes to perform their best while in "battle."  It's supposed to get them pumped up and basically ready to kick some ass, and since sports are a microcosm of society and all we want to do in life is kick ass, then it's OK.  But not everyone agrees.

From Colin Kaepernick and Jeremy Lane in the NFL to several members of the Virginia Tech women's volleyball team and even some football players from nearby Watkins Mill High School, many athletes at all levels have decided to "take a knee," give their backs to the American flag, or not stand up at all while the National Anthem is being played.  The first Major League Baseball player to express public opposition to the National Anthem was Oakland A's Bruce Maxwell, who this past weekend decided to kneel while holding his ball cap to his chest while the song was being sung.  As a result of this, Maxwell's team posted the following statement on their scoreboard immediately after, which I thought was appropriate and diplomatic and very cool and California-ish: "The Oakland A's pride ourselves in being inclusive.  We respect and support all of our players' constitutional rights and freedom of expression."  Why are athletes protesting the National Anthem?  Some of them feel like not all their liberties are being protected in this country, while others protest as a way to promote positive changes for the betterment of the country.  Whatever their reason is, they have the constitutional right to express their beliefs, and I'm totally ok with that (especially since I myself always stand for the Anthem but choose not to put my hand over my heart.  I personally think that's silly but I stand up out of respect, kind of like "when in Rome...").

Without getting political (Barack Obama referred to Kaepernick as “exercising his constitutional right to make a statement" while Donald Trump said "maybe [Kaepernick] should find a country that works better for him," but no - I'm not going to get political here!), I'm wondering if the solution to this controversy is to get rid of the National Anthem at sporting events altogether.  I personally don't think it's necessary to play the National Anthem before EVERY sporting event in America.  Do I have to wait for the National Anthem to play in order to run a local 5K race?  Can a Little League baseball game begin without a pitchy ten-year-old singing the Anthem while unable to hit the high notes?  Before you start saying that I'm not patriotic and that I need to go back to my country (which is actually a territory of the US), just hear me out.  Singing the "Star-Spangled Banner" at Yankee Stadium on September 17, 2001 on the first baseball game being played since the 9/11 attacks, with President Bush throwing out the first pitch?  Totally appropriate.  Playing the National Anthem when an Olympic athlete is receiving his/her gold medal?  Super cool and emotional.  Having the "Star-Spangled Banner" played or sung 162 times during the baseball season?  Completely unnecessary.  Why not save this song for special occasions, like a presidential inauguration, a championship game between the US and another country, or some sort of important military thing (whatever those may be)?  Don't complain that baseball games take too long when you're spending five minutes having the colors presented, having giant flags being unfurled, and listening to an "American Idol" reject trying to belt out a song that was meant to be an ode to Fort McHenry.

So if the athletes want to keep protesting, I say let them (because they have the constitutional right to do so).  But they should do it nicely and respectfully (removing your cap and "taking a knee" is way more appropriate, in my opinion, than not standing up at all), and they should be prepared to get some flack for it (especially if they sound like ignorant illiterates when they Tweet their reasons for their protest; that's another thing - athletes who Tweet!  A blog topic for another day!).  Keep "God Bless America" during the seventh-inning stretch - it's a nicer and more positive song anyway.  And we can appreciate "the land of the free and the home of the brave" without having to sing about it every day before the start of a baseball game, marathon, or local baton-twirling competition.  Those of us who live here truly appreciate our rights and freedoms - we don't need a tedious and outdated song to remind us of it.

That, my friends, is just my opinion. :-)

Mother and Son at the Ballpark (My Husband was There Too!)

My seventeen-year-old daughter has just begun her Senior year in high school, so for the past three years, our lives have been consumed by countless track meets (and corresponding pasta parties), college visits all over the Mid-Atlantic, and numerous meetings, appointments, and activities related to my daughter's academics, athletics, or extracurricular activities.  All along the way, my thirteen-year-old son has tagged along (many times begrudgingly) and served as photographer, stopwatch operator, bag carrier, or whatever "other tasks as assigned" have been thrown at him.  But he's been a pretty good sport (especially since each college visit came with either dinner at Panera, a visit to the college ice cream shop, or a stay in a hotel with a pool).  Constantly in his sister's shadow, he still manages to maintain a sense of humor while my husband and I try to accommodate his concert band schedule around everything else going on in our busy lives.  

One thing that has helped our bond is baseball.  He has been watching baseball with his mother since he was in utero, and despite "retiring" from Little League over a year ago, he still enjoys watching and following the sport with his overenthusiastic and highly competitive mother.  He went trick or treating dressed as Jayson Werth one year (complete with full bearded mask), has a respectable baseball card collection, and owns a wide assortment of Washington Nationals apparel.  He doesn't just watch baseball because it's what's on TV; he actually sits down, asks questions, and follows certain players' statistics (and admittedly, he's learning how to heckle.  Who could be teaching him that?).

One recent Sunday, my son, husband, and I traveled to Washington, DC to catch a game at Nationals Park.  The Nats were playing the Mets, the weather was perfect for an evening game, and we scored great seats for a decent price (just a few rows behind the Nats' dugout).  It was game two of a day/night doubleheader - a make-up of a previously rained-out game from July.  Tanner Roark was on the mound, and despite many of their big players being on the Disabled List (Bryce Harper, Jayson Werth, Trea Turner...), it was refreshing to see a lot of the younger guys playing so well.  The Nationals won the game 5-4, but that's not why we had such an unforgettable time.

There was the walk from the parking lot to the park.  The area around Nationals Park has really undergone a tremendous development, and there were new outdoor dining venues, numerous street vendors, and many sights that were not there since my husband and I were last there a year ago.  My son was all over the fact that you could buy a bag of peanuts right outside the park for less than half of what they charge you inside (yes - we bought one to share).  He has always enjoyed people-watching, so standing in line waiting for the gates to open was entertaining for him (he's not one of those teenagers who is constantly on his phone - he actually keeps himself occupied looking at his surroundings and making good observations and occasional snarky comments.  He is my son, after all).

Once inside the ballpark, we perused the gift shop, where of course my son wanted one of everything (actually, so did I!) but was horrified at the prices.  Now he knows that we're not willing to pay $113 for a jersey; time to revise your Christmas list, kid!  We walked around a bit, showing him things he had never noticed before (his last two visits to Nationals Park earlier this summer were with "boring people," according to him) and then found our seats.  My son was AMAZED at how good our seats were - his other visits came with outfield seats located in a section where you couldn't see the big scoreboard.  So he marveled at the wealth of information shown on the big screen - lineups, statistics, highlight videos...

When the game began, he put on his "focused" face.  This kid can get so focused sometimes that I swear he could perform microsurgery on a human brain while wearing headsets so he could direct "Sully" Sullenberger to safely land his airplane on the Hudson River.  He intently watched every pitch, every swing, every catch, only getting up once to get some ice cream.  We laughed at the drunk people behind us, at the frat boys in front of us who kept buying beer after beer (despite my son insisting that they did not look twenty-one), and at the Racing Presidents in the middle of the fourth inning.  One drunk guy had us laughing so hard, I don't think I had ever heard my son laugh so non-stop.

When I asked him on our way home what his favorite part of the evening was, he said he liked feeling like a real fan; not just a spectator.  Aw! I don't know if he'll remember this moment as fondly as me, but spending those few hours on a beautiful Sunday evening with my not-so-little-anymore boy taking in a game of baseball was a definite highlight for his mother.