Disconnecting sports and politics: Flying in the face of historical reality

It was interesting to see and hear the criticism of Aaron Rodgers and other Packers players over the past week, for daring to bring a form of social commentary to the sidelines of a football game.

Because, you know, a football game is a place where we shouldn’t have to think much harder than (1) how many beers can we afford, (2) where did we park that SUV and (3) how much the Bears suck.

And so, when Rodgers took the audacious position that love and unity would be a good thing to promote, he was roundly criticized by the next-level thinkers who cannot be bothered with such 1960s pablum.

Keep politics away from sports, they said.

Focus on football, they said.

Don’t tell us what to do, they said.

Don’t you dare be un-American, they said. We will boycott the NFL and the Packers, they threatened.

So, yeah, they took a stand, too. Free country and all that.

From what I’ve read and observed, most of the spectators in Lambeau Field on Thursday night did not lock arms in a Rodgers-backed show of solidarity.

That’s their right, of course. No problem with it.

But they might have overlooked a few things.

There was a time in the 1960s when Vince Lombardi made decisions to ensure that black players on his Green Bay team were treated with the same respect and given the same opportunities as their white teammates. In a highly political time, that was an uber-political stance.

There was a time when Bart Starr, near the end of his playing career, was considered a wonderful potential candidate as the Republican candidate for lieutenant governor.

There was a day, 60 years ago last week, when City Stadium (now Lambeau Field) was christened, with VP Richard Nixon in the seats. So were a handful of other celebrities of the day, including actor James Arness, who played Sheriff Matt Dillon on the TV series “Gunsmoke.”

There was a referendum in the early 2000s, to get Brown County voters’ approval for the renovation of Lambeau Field, and to implement a local tax to help with associated costs. You might remember that — an actual political campaign, with members of the Packers administration doing actual voter solicitation, seeking taxpayer support.

There was a very weird day when Reggie White spoke to the Wisconsin Legislature (he was invited), and enlightened the citizenry about the skills of particular ethnic groups. (Look it up.)

There have been, over the decades, many times when candidates of various political stripes were thrilled to wear a Packers hat or a Packers jersey or a Packers jacket when they were in Green Bay or elsewhere in Wisconsin. They’ve made it a point to show voters that, dammit, they love the Packers, too.

We’re all in this together, you know.

Those same candidates, and others like them, have campaigned during pregame tailgating, wandering from grill to cooler, chewing brats and swilling bad beer. They hand out Packers schedules, with their faces and names on them, to lead us to the conclusion that that they’re just like you and me.

In this country — and plenty of others — there’s never been a disconnect between sports and politics, or sports and public policy, or sports and marketing of political product or political philosophy.

Sports provide a largely captive audience, which is appealing to organizations with a message to sell. It’s true of the military, it’s true of beer companies and cellphone companies, it’s true of the teams and leagues that actually do the on-field playing, it’s true of media companies that cover the games and create content to sell.

So, please spare us the holier-than-thou, athletes-should-know-their-place sermons.

It’s never been that way, and it shouldn’t be that way today.