The Experiment

I’ve written this blog over about 25 times now. I’m still not happy with it, because there’s a LOT to say and I’m not sure I picked the right way to say it.

I toyed with the notion of using hurdles as a metaphor. That one was actually kinda funny, it might come in handy again, someday.

I tried sarcasm, cynicism, an appeal to common sense, humor, seriousness, a historical tact; some of which even made the cut, and I even wrote a page or two that was pretty militant.

None of them really got to the heart of expressing MY thoughts on the significance of having two black coaches in the Superbowl.

At the core of my thoughts is this idea: The NFL’s product has suffered because of a corporate stereotype that has existed about the ability of black men to coach the modern game.

When the NFL reintegrated in 1946, I contend that talent became the single biggest factor in who made it to the league.

In the 61 years since, the league has become roughly 70% black.

I’m not sure what the single biggest factor is in becoming a head coach. I don’t know what it used to be, I don’t know what is now, and I don’t know how it will trend in the future.

I DO know that it took a very long time for the first black guy to get a shot.

Ultimately, championship rings are the gold standard for assessing the quality of an individual man’s ability to coach at every level.

If you don’t get to coach, there is no chance that you’ll ever earn a super bowl ring for coaching the championship team.

Until this year, to ME ... as a fan of the professional game, the idea of black men coaching has felt like an experiment.

Since 1989, when Al Davis put Art Shell at the helm of the Raiders, it has felt to ME like if one of these men didn’t prove himself capable of winning the big one, the experiment might end, or worse … be judged a failure.

I could be overstating it. The FACT is that black coaches are becoming MORE common in the NFL.

But that’s the way it felt to ME, as a guy who watches football because of the game, itself.

So when Mr. Smith won in Chicago, I was proud of him not just because he’s a nice guy, or because he showed more fortitude than I am in possession of by sticking with Rex, I was proud of him because his accomplishment INSTANTLY put the experiment on a different level.

Then my cynicism kicked in. Lovie's team had some weaknesses. The AFC is statistically much better than the NFC, and it wasn't a stretch to think this year's Bears could have lost to either team in the AFC championship.

That COULD HAVE been very bad for me, as a fan.

Here’s how the cynic in me works. I’m one of those people who believe “almost succeeding” after breaking a barrier actually does more harm than good.

The moment right before you actually BREAK a barrier, is when your argument is at its strongest. There's usually no evidence for or against what you're trying to do, there's only opinion and belief.

If you fall on your face right after you break the barrier, your opponents have cause to redouble their efforts against you. Your failure provides the opposition with evidence that they were right all along. Not proof, mind you ... but evidence.

For example, in 1995, when Shannon Faulkner became the first woman accepted to the Citadel, a military academy in South Carolina, then dropped out a week later because it was too hard … I think she actually provided ammunition to the naysayers who believed a woman had no place at their venerable institution.

That experiment didn’t succeed until Nancy Mace GRADUATED in 1999.

More optimistic people will “correctly” argue that without Miss Faulkner, there could BE no Miss Mace. They’re probably right in some academic sense, but there’s a grand canyon of perception between academia and real life.

So when Mr. Dungy won in Indianapolis, I actually breathed a sigh of relief because it guaranteed that the experiment would succeed.

In the time since the Super bowl, I’ve actually done a LOT of research on race and the NFL. I’m a nerd, that’s the kind of stuff I do.

It was fascinating, in a lot of ways that I discussed in some of the 25 drafts that didn’t make it.

But I’ve settled on this … it took 18 years to prove that a black guy could be a “successful” coach in the NFL.

There are tons of bonus points, because both men in the guarantee round are standup guys who have earned the respect of their teams, their opponents, and the game, along the way to proving their worth.

If you’re interested in some of the history, I’d love to chat about it sometime. It’s REALLY fascinating.

In the meantime, I couldn’t be prouder of the way the experiment turned out.

Congratulations.