Rooney Rude

I'm a white guy and I have a large number of different colored friends. Do I make an effort to have friends of different ethnicities? No. Does the color of their skin give them any more or any less merit in my eyes? No. Does their skin color make me more or less inclined to befriend them? No. Being black, or brown, any other shade for that matter doesn't make someone who they are. When it comes to my friends, I want to be able to talk about sports and joke around. Ethnicity plays zero role in those abilities.

Then why can't the NFL understand that? I'm referring to the Rooney Rule, a mandate in the National Football League that requires teams to interview at least one minority candidate when a coaching job is vacant. Established in 2003, the rule is named after Dan Rooney, the owner of the Pittsburgh Steelers and the chairman of the league's diversity committee. The Steelers have had a long and successful history of giving African Americans high-ordered positions. In 2007 they gave the head coaching job to Mike Tomlin, an African American, and that turned out to be a stellar choice.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to sound like my argument is "NFL teams shouldn't hire black coaches!" Not by a long shot. What I'm trying to say is, "Why should skin color matter?" If someone knows their football and has a great coaching mind, then that's that. Point finale. The rule was created in order to combat racism and give minority candidates a fair chance, but by segregating them as different and literally forcing teams to consider them, it actually accomplishes the exact opposite. Teams should hire their coaches based on their knowledge and their previous success. Throwing skin color into the decision is unnecessary, insulting, and works against its own purpose.

In 2003, the Detroit Lions were fined $200,000 for immediately hiring Steve Mariucci after they fired Marty Mornhinweg. The team had their successor lined up and their decision was made, but because they didn't do the necessary "let's entertain the media and the league by bringing in a black guy to chat about the job" song and dance, they were charged a hefty fee.

This offseason, reports broke that the Seattle Seahawks had reached an agreement to hire Pete Carroll as the team's new head coach. Before they could announce the acquisition, they had to set up an interview with a minority candidate in order to avoid being penalized. Their decision was made, they just needed a 'loophole black guy'. They reached out the Minnesota Vikings' defensive coordinator Leslie Frazier and offered him an interview. Frazier knew he was being brought in with little actual interest and he was simply a bystander of the Rooney Rule, so he abruptly turned down the offer. Frazier knew the Seahawks were going to hire Carroll one way or another, and he didn't feel like being a pond in their game. Of course, Seattle eventually found someone else to come in for a meeting and then announced their hiring of Carroll within days.

If a quarterback has a great arm, does it matter what skin color he is? Does it make him any better or any worse? What about a phenomenal writer? What about a politician running for president (umm...)? By separating candidates into 'minority' groups, the NFL is simply making matters worse. If a guy knows his football, he should succeed no matter what. Let everyone earn their positions on an equal playing field.

I Remember When

You could say that I'm "old school". I'm 21, but I don't "crank dat". I rarely get "turnt up" and I've almost entirely given up "swag surfing". I've never tried to be a DJ Hero, and all my favorite songs don't have Wayne features. When I'm "ridin' dirty" I prefer to do it with UGK over Chamillionaire. I'm a fan of 'big' rappers and I'm not impressed by "young" or "lil" ones.

That's not to say I don't keep up with what's new. To me, Hip Hop today is like soccer. Basketball and football are my two main sports, but thats not to say I don't know the top soccer players. When the World Cup comes around, I'll definitely lend it my attention, but it just doesn't captivate me. I'll give the new Gucci Mane album a listening-to, but you best believe Scarface or Wu Tang is going right back in once the final track is done.

The problem I'm facing today, though, is that my preferred 'style' of Hip Hop is going extinct. I'm out here Paula Cole'ing, wondering 'where have all the cowboys gone'? What's happening to the essence of Hip Hop? If you don't understand what I mean by "essence of Hip Hop", go back and listen to Nas rhyme on N.Y. State of Mind (original title, Hov). Go listen to Snoop and Dre rip up Deep Cover. Heck, listen to any track O.D.B. was ever on and you'll hear someone who didn't always make the most sense but someone who truly felt the rhythm and who lived and breathed the "essence" of what his music was all about.

It's tough for people my age or younger to really understand. We're just not used to it. We live in such a commercialized and industrialized society that it's almost impossible to truly "feel" any music anymore. The scene from White Men Can't Jump sums it up best. In the scene, Billy and Sidney get in an argument about Jimi Hendrix, saying basically that some people 'hear' him and some 'listen' to him. I 'listen' to new music, but I can't say I've actually 'heard' anything in a long time.

The Blueprint 3 was not a bad album by any means. In fact, I really loved it. But it isn't even the same beast as Reasonable Doubt was. It had catchy tunes and clever lines, but didn't have the same raw grittiness or sense of originality that Hov's debut had. One was for clubs and pop charts, the other was for old Lincoln's and street corners. For what it was, the Blueprint 3 was phenomenal. It was some of the best sushi you've ever tasted, while Reasonable Doubt was a grade A juicy steak. Both great in their own way, but you would never confuse the two or be indifferent as to which you prefer.

There are rays of hope, though. For example, I worked at a camp this past summer looking after a group of 15 and 16 year-olds. The movie Notorious had recently come out and was popular among the campers. Although I personally hated the movie and thought it was as Hollywood and Disney'ed-out as can get, I was pleased with the sense of history it was giving these kids. Rather than jamming out to the latest "lil" something, who sports a mouth full of diamonds and talks about nothing of any relevance, all I heard coming from their stereo was Biggie, 24/7.

They might not know his entire story, they might not know what album the song they are listening to is from because they just downloaded singles off Limewire, and they might have only heard of him a couple months ago when the movie came out, but they were listening. It gave me an odd sense of relief watching these kids rap along to Biggie lyrics. I was proud that my campers were listening to some true rap music. No, correction. I was proud that my campers were finally hearing some true rap music.