When you hear the name “Mario Balotelli”, what terms come to mind? On the positive side, the words “powerful”, “strong”, and “muscular” ring around the room. On the negative side, we’ve all read about his “volatility” and “outbursts” and “immaturity.” Yet why do we tend to focus so heavily on terms of power when describing black male athletes, when the discourse of grace also applies? Why do vocally dissident black athletes get fed to the sharks?

The first discourse is a dishonest and disempowering “black athlete fetishism,” the second reflect subtle misogynist underpinnings – reason, the province of the white rational male, must trump emotion.

Let’s deconstruct both these ideas, shall we?

At the outset, this is not a finger pointing game of “he’s a racist/she’s a racist/not it!” Rather, I desire a nuanced look at how language and prejudices shape one another, like two strands of string tied together. In that respect, biases have shaped my own bi-racial life. When I’m early to a meeting for work, its my proudly punctual anglo-saxon roots. When I’m a half hour late to a social event, its my subtly cool Latin sensibility. In seriousness, these daily snap-decisions and internalized modes of thinking require reflection then rejection, not head-butting recrimination.

The terms used to describe Balotelli’s game generally revolve around physical attributes of the brute variety: his strength, his speed, his acceleration, his jumping ability. The black athlete is painted as the powerful and majestic “black stallion,” a sheer force of nature. But can’t these same attributes be depicted in terms of grace, balance, and agility? One may say they are two sides of the same coin – but why does the coin always come up tails when we read and hear commentators praise black athletes?  Balotelli is not alone in this regard.

One of my favorite EPL players, Michael Essien, is nicknamed “the Bison.” Granted, the man from Ghana has put in quite a few crunching tackles. But can’t we ascribe this quality to anticipation, timing, and reading of a game? When Essien leaves his feet to spear a ball, why not describe the tackle as if a soaring Eagle dove suddenly to pierce its prey?

While, duh, we watch sports because the athletes are super athletic and an athlete can be both powerful & graceful, why was Van Basten “a swan” yet Essien “a bison”? The alternative, of course, is to acknowledge the reality that Essien is a ballerina.

When Essien fends off two defenders and surges forward, it has nothing to do with the diameter of his thighs or his bench press. Rather, his toes deserve the credit. The Ghanian delicately crescendos to a brilliant forte, like a well choreographed swan lake.

While this may seem like splitting hairs over compliments, in American Football, this fetishism’s focus on “the physical” retarded the advancement of African Americans. While black players succeeded at highly skilled positions like running back and wide receiver, doubts lingered about the “cerebral positions” of quarterback and coach. This myth was popped by Randal Cunningham’s brilliantly spontaneous runs, Donovan McNabb’s mastery of the West Coast offense, and Tony Dungy’s even-headed firmness, decades passed before reality trumped prejudice.

Even if we accept that Balotelli is really Michael Flatley incognito, rejecting black athlete fetishism, a second discourse clouds our heads: subtle misogyny. Balotelli’s temper tantrums probably reflect the normal workings of supremely gifted teenager, yet why does the media latch onto these comments? Why does expressing displeasure with management or co-workers come as a shock?

Granted, white players that express their emotions and frustrations to the press also get their share of stick. Antonio Cassano of Italy is a prime example in soccer, as is Jeremy Shockey of New Orleans in American football. Yet the subtly sexist reasoning still applies: emotions are weak, expressing emotions is bad. Only the humanist prototype – the white male philosopher – is acceptable.

Many blindly argue based on “privacy.” Concerns about management decisions and teammates should be “behind closed doors.” These issues are a “family matter.” Why? Why should it be? Was domestic violence a private matter in the United States in the 1950′s? Why is stating one’s case, exercising First Amendment rights, and using the media to apply pressure a negative?

Let’s take a look at an example from American football: Randy Moss. For the unfamiliar, Randy Moss if a future hall of fame receiver. His speed, balance, and soft hands set him a class above everyone else. Yet he also “runs his mouth.” At the start of the season, he made some critical comments about his organization, the New England Patriots. They promptly let him go. How did the press react?

They applauded the Patriots’ actions. I wont get into nuts & bolts of management decisions, but the “crazy girlfriend” analogy by both Jason Whitlock & Bill Simmons bordered on a satire of itself. Could they both be so superficially misogynist? Below the surface of the “women as chattel” language, why associate emotions and “volatility” with women? Why depict emotions and their verbal expression as negative?

The answer is simple.

In the early 1900′s, a bunch of classically trained white academic male philosophers decided (1) reason and emotion were opposites and (2) reason must conquer emotion. Always. This same dynamic has emerged in the recent twittergate saga of black EPL players Glen Johnson and Ryan Babel. Did both manifest their hurt feelings in childish ways? Yes. But middle school ad hominems only overscore a point: these professionals take pride in their job. Should we expect less?

So we ask of Balotelli, the dark “Italian stallion” of the 21st century, can his white coach harness his bestial talent & tame his feminine volatility? Will Babel and Johnson forever trade twitter for foursquare? Or do we?

Photo credit: Vanity Fair

Digital Image Impression: the amazingly talented artist Erik Ebeling. Check out his other work at ErikEbelingArt .

What draws you to soccer over the silky swings of Golf or the wonder rallies of Tennis? I believe, good sir or madam, it is because you are a social creature. You crave and delight in human interaction. More succinctly, you marvel at coordination sans communication. Some American soccer bloggers look down their nose at “throwball” (American Football), rejecting the mainstream sport for the supposed counterculture value of “soccer.” However, I see comparisons in combinations. Please bear with a slight historical summary of “throwball” for European based folks and then we get to my thesis err theme – Montana to Rice and Xavi to Messi, the magic of the pass.

American football did not always allow the forward throwing of the ball. At its onset, the game was based on a punishing running approach. The quarterback would hand off to the running back, and the ogres of the offensive line would engage in a battle of push-shove with the defensive ogres. The crowds went wild. Blood spilled. Bones bruised. Skulls smashed.

The Earth’s last frontier revolutionized warfare between World War I and II. The aerial assault all but eliminated trench warfare. Similar innovations occurred in American football, with the approval of the forward pass limiting but not eliminating the running game. The effect on the spectator’s eye was immediate. The running game required a predatory, instinctive, and immediate tunnel vision. The passing game, though, required timing and coordination.

Flash forward several decades. The 80s roared into the American collective conscious as Reagan deregulated, Iran contra’d, and Joe Montana and Jerry Rice of the San Francisco 49ers dominated the American Football professional league. Joe Montana, a quarterback, was not known for sizable height to see over defenders or bulging biceps to pass through defenders’ arms. Rather, he recounted his story of throwing football after football through a tire hung on a tree in his family’s back yard. Precision. Patience. Vision. Coordination. Touch.

Jerry Rice, his partner in crime, was a wide receiver, the position in charge of receiving. Not particularly known for his speed, instead his consistent and creative routes, timing, and soft hands tormented defending corner backs (the speedy and nimble defenders in charge of stalking receivers across the field). Both Joe and Jerry had hall of fame careers, but their synergistic chemistry catches the eye. Enjoy these highlights…

Time dominates our existence yet we cannot taste, touch, or feel it. We struggle to measure it, whether we use the hands of a watch, the digits of a clock, or the sands of an hourglass. Coordination can dominate both the game of American “throwball” and soccer. We never see such blissful coordination the concept, but rather the material manifestations. Nobody can say why or the chemical reaction behind Jerry Rice knowing a Montana fist pump, yet the throw, catch, and touchdown point to a connection  of minds that transcends physical limitations.

In the contemporary soccer world, I believe that Messi and Xavi play for the wrong team. Aside from that, their synergy is beauty to the eyes for  every game they don’t play Madrid. This connection manifests itself in sightless spatial awareness. Xavi knows where Messi is without lifting his head. Exhibit A: a goal vs. Racing Santander.

Messi, to his credit, maintains the discipline of a route-running Jerry Rice. He stays wide despite the struggle in midfield, the overwhelming temptation to rush to Xavi’s aid and press the opposition. Xavi rewards his faith with a delayed long ball; Messi’s feet imitate Jerry Rice’s sticky fingertips, catching the ball and launching an assault in one stride.

The synergy does not end in spatial terms. Time also plays a role. In American Football, it is common for a defensive side to run several defenders at the quarterback. This tactic is known as a “blitz” and is high risk/high reward – the goal is to tackle the quarterback before he can throw the ball. The danger is that it leaves the space behind the blitzers exposed. Think off sides trap but with no goalie. Offenses can react in two ways – bring back additional players to block, or trying to play a very quick pass. This offensive tactic is known as the “go route” or the “hot route.”

Xavi and Messi play the hot route quicker than you can blink. Exhibit B: a goal vs. Villareal.

Faster than you can say snapshot or light a match, Xavi senses the approaching defender and threads a pass to evade him and the off sides trap. Messi, of course, finishes with aplomb. At times, you could expect him to emulate a cocky American football player, turning his head to the last defender and wagging his tongue. But he calmly sidefoots home instead. For the hundredth time.

I cannot explain synergy. This post merely attempts to display the material manifestations of a cosmic understanding present in both the realm of American “throwball” and soccer. However, just as the 80′s era ended, with Montana moving to a twilight in Kansas City and Rice retreating to Oakland, enjoy the Cule visual stimulation while it lasts. And don’t let a counterculture US soccer blogger tell you that American football doesn’t have moments of beauty comparable to soccer….

Brian Phillips quasi-liveblog of the US-Mexico game included a few somewhat unflattering descriptions of one aging icon: Cuauhtemoc Blanco. While I secretly hope/believe/suspect Brian was sarcastic, it has to be noted that Blanco is no longer the bunny-hopping, swashbuckling forward of yesteryear. He also does not play defense. Yet, his head-fakes and feigns continue to ripple nets at both the MLS and international level.

Let’s take a look at some of Blanco’s typical passing plays:

And now check out some Steve Nash highlight plays.

At least in my mind, only one question reminds: is Blanco the Nash of MLS, or is Nash the Blanco of the NBA.