After 9/11, [Bush] urged people to go shopping, to go to Disney World, to play baseball. “I made the case that, if you really wanted to send a message to the terrorists, get back to normal life and we’ll do the best we can to protect you,” he said. “And so going to a baseball game was kind of symbolic of getting back to normal life.”
This passage came to mind today when I heard the University of South Carolina's game against Louisiana State will be moved to Baton Rouge in light of the historic flooding that has drowned the state. More than a dozen people have lost their lives, and the death toll will likely rise. Hundreds, if not thousands, have been displaced from their homes. Billions of dollars in damage are being estimated across the Midlands. Right now, Columbia is in no shape to realistically hold a college football game. But right now, a college football game would be just about the only thing to return South Carolina's capital city to a state of normalcy.
Sports, at their core, serve as nothing more than a source of entertainment. While die-hard fans and certain communities might disagree with this notion, the sentiment is true a vast majority of the time. However, with the widespread and communal support a lot of teams receive, that entertainment can become a source of healing when needed. And sometimes, feeling like they are playing for something bigger than themselves, teams rally behind the energy to elevate their play. The aforementioned Yankees would go on to win Game 3 that night after losing the first two games of the series. After Hurricane Katrina, the New Orleans Saints were forced away from the Superdome during the 2005 season. In their first game back, Steve Gleason's blocked punt sparked the Saints to a victory. New Orleans would reach the NFC Championship for the first time in franchise history. After winning the Super Bowl in 2009, the team immortalized Gleason;s block with a statue outside the stadium. Its name? Rebirth. Following the Boston Marathon bombings, David Ortiz gave a speech before the first game back in Fenway where he famously announced to the crowd, "This is our fucking city". The 2013 Red Sox would go on to win the World Series, and Boston Strong became a quantifiable concept. There are more examples out there. When your team, town, or country is backed up against the wall and in the national spotlight, what better way to embody your resiliency than a competitive outlet like athletics?
It has been a struggle for the South Carolina Gamecocks to this point in the season. A 2-3 record, a brutal schedule, and a lack of momentum seem to indicate South Carolina will be home for the holidays. Containing Leonard Fournette is arguably the toughest task the team will have faced to date. Nobody is expecting a competitive game, and with the game moved to Baton Rouge, the challenge will only be more difficult because the Gamecock community won't be there in full force. Most importantly, the players and coaches will likely find it difficult to focus on football with much more important facets of life still looming large because their city and their state still has much healing left to do.
On October 17th, though, South Carolina is set to host Vanderbilt. Hopefully, waters will have subsided, the first responders will be finished with their work, the sounds of trains will have replaced dual rotor helicopters, and an infrastructure somewhat resembling the status quo will be back in place. It will be the coronation of Homecoming week on campus, the grand opening of the new Alumni Center will have taken place, and the Commodores will offer the Gamecocks a chance to pick up a much needed win. The environment inside Williams-Brice will likely be composed of immense reverence for the service given by so many. There will probably be more tears shed than usual during the benediction and alma mater. The chorus of Gamecock chants will hopefully ring a few decibels louder. Even the 82,000 inside might find it just slightly more difficult to complain about an official's bad call when they remember the conditions from two weeks ago. But around 4:00 PM, when the first note of Sandstorm plays and thousands of white towels begin waving around, Columbia will finally find itself feeling like Columbia once again. And if an important lesson from history repeat itself, an odyssey to reaching a bowl game might just begin.
J. Nave
Sports, at their core, serve as nothing more than a source of entertainment. While die-hard fans and certain communities might disagree with this notion, the sentiment is true a vast majority of the time. However, with the widespread and communal support a lot of teams receive, that entertainment can become a source of healing when needed. And sometimes, feeling like they are playing for something bigger than themselves, teams rally behind the energy to elevate their play. The aforementioned Yankees would go on to win Game 3 that night after losing the first two games of the series. After Hurricane Katrina, the New Orleans Saints were forced away from the Superdome during the 2005 season. In their first game back, Steve Gleason's blocked punt sparked the Saints to a victory. New Orleans would reach the NFC Championship for the first time in franchise history. After winning the Super Bowl in 2009, the team immortalized Gleason;s block with a statue outside the stadium. Its name? Rebirth. Following the Boston Marathon bombings, David Ortiz gave a speech before the first game back in Fenway where he famously announced to the crowd, "This is our fucking city". The 2013 Red Sox would go on to win the World Series, and Boston Strong became a quantifiable concept. There are more examples out there. When your team, town, or country is backed up against the wall and in the national spotlight, what better way to embody your resiliency than a competitive outlet like athletics?
It has been a struggle for the South Carolina Gamecocks to this point in the season. A 2-3 record, a brutal schedule, and a lack of momentum seem to indicate South Carolina will be home for the holidays. Containing Leonard Fournette is arguably the toughest task the team will have faced to date. Nobody is expecting a competitive game, and with the game moved to Baton Rouge, the challenge will only be more difficult because the Gamecock community won't be there in full force. Most importantly, the players and coaches will likely find it difficult to focus on football with much more important facets of life still looming large because their city and their state still has much healing left to do.
On October 17th, though, South Carolina is set to host Vanderbilt. Hopefully, waters will have subsided, the first responders will be finished with their work, the sounds of trains will have replaced dual rotor helicopters, and an infrastructure somewhat resembling the status quo will be back in place. It will be the coronation of Homecoming week on campus, the grand opening of the new Alumni Center will have taken place, and the Commodores will offer the Gamecocks a chance to pick up a much needed win. The environment inside Williams-Brice will likely be composed of immense reverence for the service given by so many. There will probably be more tears shed than usual during the benediction and alma mater. The chorus of Gamecock chants will hopefully ring a few decibels louder. Even the 82,000 inside might find it just slightly more difficult to complain about an official's bad call when they remember the conditions from two weeks ago. But around 4:00 PM, when the first note of Sandstorm plays and thousands of white towels begin waving around, Columbia will finally find itself feeling like Columbia once again. And if an important lesson from history repeat itself, an odyssey to reaching a bowl game might just begin.
J. Nave
