Naomi Osaka Choosing Sanity over the Normative White Gaze

When Naomi Osaka stated that she experiences “waves of anxiety” before media events, I was reminded that most people become athletes for the love of the sport and not because they want to be famous. I came from a baseball family and a baseball community. I know it sounds strange to say today, but there was a time when baseball was the most popular sport, even in the black community.  As such, playing baseball was a connection to my Pops, my grandfather, and my community.  The neighborhood park would be packed with all types of black folks enjoying the baseball game and communing with each other. (The smell of the food and the sound of the music were equally as enjoyable as the games.) Most importantly, sports was a way that my community affirmed household and neighborhood values of fair play, accountability, cooperation, diligence, and dedication.  It wasn’t about molding children into stars but giving them healthy outlets and exercise while, again, helping to mold or affirm character. Yet, one’s character wasn’t judged by arbitrary and artificial rituals.  I’ve stated many times before that I was a mediocre three-sport athlete with an emphasis on mediocre. However, what I haven’t mentioned is that, playing sports from sixth grade until freshmen year of college, I always thought that shaking hands before and after games is stupid and a colossal waste of time. I’m sure that someone is going to mention sportsmanship. But, true sportsmanship is exemplified by how one plays the game and not by the smoke and mirrors or dog-and-pony show before and after the game. This is also true about pre and post-game interviews, which are also, mostly, a colossal waste of time. The only time that people discuss post-game interviews is when someone has an emotional breakdown or tirade, i.e. Coach Dennis Green’s “They are who we thought they were” tirade, which I’ll admit that I greatly enjoy. But, other than those types of spectacles, post-game interviews are often meaningless because most coaches and athletes filled them with mindless clichés. Yet, that’s the point. Everyone knows that these interviews are meaningless, but, like much of American culture, most who watch post-game interviews are only watching for the hope or possibility of the spectacle of the emotional breakdown or tirade because far too many people fetishize dysfunction, which is why reality television is the most popular form of entertainment. Thus, the anger at Osaka is that she is denying the media and the mass of idiots their gratuitous enjoyment of dysfunction by protecting her mental health from these rubberneckers seeking joy from her displeasure.

I’ve shared before that my Pops always watched the game with the television on mute and jazz blasting because he wasn’t “interested in hearing with folks pontificate about black talent.” Then, he’d add, “If you need to have somebody explain the game to you, then your dumb ass probably shouldn’t be watching the game.” As such, we rarely, if ever, watched pre or post-game press conferences. Moreover, my Pops was a lifetime Jackson State University athletics season ticket holder, but I can’t remember him attending any meet and greets or press conferences. It just wasn’t his thing. Of course, my Pops was a second-generation, highly touted baseball pitcher whose father (my grandfather) was also a very good baseball player. Because he understood the ups and downs of a high-level athlete, he wasn’t obsessed with the desire of non-athletes to live vicariously through athletes. When speaking of artists and athletes, he would always say, “The only thing these people owe us is to give one hundred percent of themselves when performing. Other than that, they owe us nothing.” Yet, far too many non-athlete fans get their kicks from building athletes into Gods and, then, demolishing them as a way to compensate for their inadequacies. 

While there are many great sports journalists, there are also many journalists who earn a living disparaging athletes to comfort their insecurities. Most athletes understand this and take it all in stride, finding the most diplomatic manner to answer dumbass, rude, and insulting questions disguised as journalism.  I think of people like Skip Bayless aka Water Pistol Pete who has taken his career to new heights by demonizing LeBron James and others. And, yes, Bayless has often been supportive of black athletes, in general, with social justice issues. But, it doesn’t create much progress to support social justice in theory while becoming rich by violating the character of those same black athletes. My wife, Monica, isn’t a Steven A. Smith fan because she views Smith in a similar light and is still hoping that Kwame Brown finds Smith one day to have a “man-to-man” talk. Most journalists and fans feel that they “made” the athlete, which gives them the right to do and say whatever they desire. Think about the fan throwing popcorn on Washington Wizards guard Russell Westbrook, and, sadly, that’s tame behavior. And, to be clear, Barry Bonds, one of the greatest baseball players of all time, isn’t denied entry into the baseball hall of fame because he used steroids. He’s not in the hall of fame because he was an arrogant black man who had the nerve to treat sports journalists with disdain.  Just check Bonds’ statistics before and after his use of steroids. Based solely on the numbers, Bonds was a hall of famer before steroids entered the picture. Also, he never failed a steroids test, but many sports journalists only care about facts when it enables them to persecute someone. As such, fans and sports journalists have a history of privilege when it comes to mistreating athletes.  In 2004, I was amazed that I was the only person who seemed happy about Indiana Pacers Ron Artest and Steven Jackson going into the stands to render some playground justice after a fan had thrown a drink on Artest. Known as “The Malice in the Palace,” I watched this in real-time, happy about each fan that got punched in the face. Was I the only person who thought that, if you are foolish or man enough to throw your drink on a six-foot eight-inch black dude, you should be foolish or man enough to take that ass whipping? I’m not saying that it was the “right” thing. I’m saying that it was a natural reaction to which no one should have been surprised. But, if one views athletes as inanimate labor, then one is surprised when the inanimate labor responds like a human with rights.

Furthermore, this notion that, if we allow one athlete not to speak to the press, all of them will not speak to the press is some of the biggest bunch of bs that I’ve ever heard because it’s just not true. This statement shows the plantation mentality that most journalists and fans have regarding athletes. It treats all athletes as a monolith and not as individuals with distinct personalities. Another thing that sports taught me is how to work with and navigate various personalities and to see greatness in all types of people. For six years, I played baseball with and against a gentleman named Ron Brown. Ron was a year older than me. We played against each other in elementary and with each other in high school. He is the most soft-spoken person I ever met. Yet, you wouldn’t know that Ron was soft-spoken because he never spoke. Regardless of the situation, Ron was always the same—not overly excited and not overly disappointed or depressed.  Yet, and it pains me to admit this, he was probably the best infielder I’ve ever known. It pains me because, for years, I thought that I was the best infielder that I’ve ever known, but I digress. In contrast, one of Ron’s closest friends and teammates, Andrew Johnson, is one of the most gregarious and ish-talking dudes I’ve ever met. Of course, Andrew didn’t have any problem telling you that he was the greatest infielder that he ever met. Ron and Andrew are two completely different guys; yet, their chemistry made them, possibly, the greatest shortstop and second base combination that I’ve ever seen. It’s because of them that I was forced to switch from shortstop to playing third base because their chemistry was so strong and dynamic. And, again, Andrew didn’t have any problem telling you how dynamic they were. I’m using Ron and Andrew as examples because Ron hated to talk unless something needed to be said and Andrew loved to talk because he loved to talk. As such, if they would have made it to the big leagues, Ron would have hated giving interviews. But, Andrew would have talked enough for both of them. My point is that athletics, like life, is filled with a plethora of personalities. The worst thing in the world is to make everybody be the same person. If you think that one or two athletes refusing to give interviews will kill your access to the game, you clearly have never been in a sports locker room. There are more than enough men and women in a sports locker room who are more than willing to tell you what you saw, what you thought you saw, what you should have seen, and, most importantly, that you should have been looking at them the entire time. There will never be a shortage of players who are willing to give pre, during, and post-game interviews because many people who play sports enjoy the limelight and are look-at-me people.  And, if y’all are wondering, yes, I was a look-at-me athlete. It’s just that I was so mediocre that there wasn’t much for folks to see. For every one athlete that refuses to do an interview, there are one hundred more willing to talk. Whether it’s Charles Barkley, Deion Sanders, Gary Payton, Cynthia Cooper, Reggie Miller, or Cheryl Miller, sports will never be deficient of athletes who want to talk. But, greed and privilege cause fans and sports journalists not to understand this. Forcing Roger Maris to talk to the press when he was attempting to break Babe Ruth’s single-season homerun record almost killed Maris’ career because he was a painfully shy country boy who only wanted to play baseball. The great philosopher George Clinton stated that “America eats its young.” Sadly, America will devour anything to feed its greed and satisfy its lust for spectacle, including itself.

            So, how does this all relate to Naomi Osaka’s refusal to do post-game interviews and then withdrawing from the French Open after being fined for not doing an interview as well as being threatened with forfeiture? It relates because many journalists are no more objective and civil than rabid fans (fanatics). Many journalists have a slant and agenda and use athletes as pawns in their desire to make themselves bigger than the athletes. When she first stated that she would not be doing post-game interviews, she clearly cited that it was because of her desire to care for her mental health.  Sadly, making that statement didn’t get her empathy; it was like waving fresh bloody meat to piranha. If the sports media is good at one thing, it’s attacking and devouring anyone whom they perceive as being mentally weak because, often, sports are used as a measuring stick for mental toughness. That’s the point of the “clutch gene” debate—to decide who is mentally strong enough to overcome pressure. Thus, if an athlete shows mental weakness, then the media thinks that it’s their job to identify, highlight, and shame that person from the profession. To be clear, sports, among other things, were used to affirm lessons of mental toughness that my parents instilled in me. However, for Osaka and many others, not allowing themselves to be demeaned by insults masquerading as journalism causes one to be labeled as weak, thin-skilled, selfish, and egotistical. This is why I’m grateful that my Pops taught me not to listen to white people or step-n-fetch-it Negroes pontificate about black talent. (It’s also the reason why I’ve never been that interested in white music critics telling me how great Prince’s work with the Revolution is or how great Jimi Hendrix’s work with the Experience is because I know that their catalogs feature work with black musicians that crushes much of the work that the white press loves.) More importantly, I’m just glad that Osaka and the people around her care more about her sanity than they do about securing white dollars no matter the cost. This reminds me of the time that Richard Williams came to the defense of fourteen-year-old Venus when a white reporter was questioning/badgering her about her confidence. (Y’all can view that incident here.) When I saw R. Williams defend his daughter, I knew that Venus and Serena would be alright.  It seems that Osaka has the same support system.  Make no mistake. Osaka refusing to be bullied by and withdrawing from the French Open is Muhammad Ali-like. She is a four-time major champ. She was the number two seed in the French Open and the favorite to win it. However, she decided that some things are more important than white people’s money. If nothing else, this is the lesson that we must share with children of color everywhere.

In closing, I also like that Osaka has been smart enough and bold enough not to allow the white press to make her into the “model minority” or the “anti-Serena Williams,” which they have longed to do. When their great white hope hype, Maria Sharapova, was unable to dethrone Williams, they waited a long time for someone like Osaka to dethrone her. By playing under the Japanese Flag, Osaka was perceived as not being or desiring to be black. Yet, she became one of the loudest voices of the Black Lives Matter Movement. So, I guess it’s true. You can take a sista out the country, but you can’t take the country out the sista. At this point, I don’t care if Osaka wins another tournament. Yes, I want her to earn a living doing something that she loves. But, refusing to be defined or bullied by powerful white folks with lots of money is a greater example that she can provide to children of color than any tournament that she can win.

Author: C. Liegh McInnis

C. Liegh McInnis is an English instructor at Jackson State University, the former editor/publisher of Black Magnolias Literary Journal, the author of eight books, including four collections of poetry, one collection of short fiction (Scripts:  Sketches and Tales of Urban Mississippi), one work of literary criticism (The Lyrics of Prince:  A Literary Look at a Creative, Musical Poet, Philosopher, and Storyteller), one co-authored work, Brother Hollis:  The Sankofa of a Movement Man, which discusses the life of a legendary Mississippi Civil Rights icon, and the former First Runner-Up of the Amiri Baraka/Sonia Sanchez Poetry Award.  His work has appeared in Obsidian, Tribes, The Southern Quarterly, Konch Magazine, Bum Rush the Page, Down to the Dark River:  Anthology of Poems about the Mississippi River, Black Hollywood Unchained:  Essays about Hollywood’s Portrayal of African Americans, Black Gold:  Anthology of Black Poetry, Sable, New Delta Review, Black World Today, In Motion Magazine, MultiCultural Review, A Deeper Shade, New Laurel Review, ChickenBones, Oxford American, Journal of Ethnic American Literature, and Red Ochre Lit.