Well, probably not.
Factors like age, race, profession, skills, background, geography,
wealth (although that may not be all that disparate) are so radically different
that any equation between Cam Newton and Donald Trump seems downright
silly. And yet . . .
To backtrack: as those of you
who’ve read my 2015 blogs know, I’ve written a lot about politics. And therefore, about Donald Trump (the biggest, most riveting, and, to me, most distressing political story in this
political cycle). I’ve compared him to
everyone from Benito Mussolini to Miley Cyrus.
I’ve tried to analyze his appeal.
And, recently, I’ve given up.
What more is there to say? Either the remnants of the Republican
establishment will figure out a way to stop his nomination or they won’t. Anything outrageous that Trump bellows is no
longer news, as it never negatively affects his poll numbers. None of his challengers, evidently, is sane
or strong enough to stop him.
So I’ve not been moved to write anything more about Donald
Trump. Which means that I haven’t been
able to write about this year’s politics, as he’s still the fulcrum of any
political discussion. In other words,
I’ve had zero-zilch new ideas about Trump’s appeal. My bad.
And my handy explanation for blogosphere silence (which of course has
additional sources, like the busyness of the holidays and general scrivener
sloth).
Enter the NFL playoffs.
A more fun diversion than politics, at least for a while – particularly
because I had two favorite teams in contention, my birth-State team (Green Bay
Packers) and my now-live-here team (Carolina Panthers). The Panthers have prevailed and will be in
the Super Bowl. Hooray, and party on.
Cruising sports sites and listening to ‘Mike & Mike in
the Morning,‘ I’ve become interested in the backlash against the Panther’s
exceptional quarterback, Cam Newton. “He’s
arrogant.” “ He’s disrespectful.” (This latter charge stems largely from the
bogus reports surrounding his batting away of the twelfth-man Seahawks ‘flag’
that was tossed in his face and has culminated in a self-promoting petition to
ban Newton from appearing again in the Seattle stadium.) “He’s neglecting the children on the second
row to whom he doesn’t give footballs after a touchdown” (oh pleeeeeze).
The not-so-hidden objection to Cam Newton, it seems to me,
is he’s a supremely talented Black quarterback who is not ‘properly’
deferential to the overwhelmingly White male powers-that-be who’ve dominated
professional football forever. And/or
who doesn’t demonstrate the stoically bland ‘leadership’ qualities equated for
decades to the (White) quarterback position. Instead, Newton’s enjoying his
accomplishments, and those of his excellent team, on his own terms. Dancing!
Posing for pictures! Distributing
footballs to children! Inspiring his
team, and its fans, to revel in and build upon success!
What Cam Newton embodies is absolute joy at succeeding at
the game. In his case, it’s professional
(before that, for him, college) football.
He’s really, really good at the game he plays, and he doesn’t hide the
pleasure it gives him. That joy is
infectious (unless you’re a zipped-up partisan of another football team). It’s also (to employ an over-used buzz word)
aspirational. Wouldn’t we all want to be
so good at what we do that we can celebrate our accomplishments, and those of
the people who’ve helped us achieve them, with full-throttle happiness?
Now, why does Cam Newton make me think of Donald Trump?
What I hadn’t considered, until this past weekend watching
the Panthers pulverize the Cardinals, was that Trump exhibits the same joy in
winning his game-of-choice as does Cam Newton.
A similar swagger. A similar ‘I’m
winning, so deal with it’ attitude. A
similar invitation to join the winning team, of which he’s the star.
And another similarity, which became clear only after
Trump’s recent and brilliant
‘to-hell-with-the-debate-I’m-starting-a-different-game’ maneuver: Donald Trump
is flexible. Versatile. He plays many roles, switching them at a drop
of a hat or a slip of the tongue. So
far, he’s able to exploit almost any situation, turning it to his advantage.
His conventional-wisdom-breaking nimbleness has flummoxed his political opponents
and professional pundits alike. Like Cam
Newton, who—depending on the game situation—can be quarterback, wide receiver,
running back, and probably punter and defensive tackle.
Football is a game of positions: specific skills are honed
for specific roles (kickers, offensive linemen, receivers, etc. etc.). Cam
Newton shatters these boundaries—and in so doing, is shattering lingering
prejudice about Black quarterbacks. Not
very long ago, Black quarterbacks were either non-existent or a rarity (a
rarity judged harshly – see Jimmy the Greek or Warren Moon’s early exile to the
CFL), even as the NFL became more and more dominated by Black players in most
other positions.
In a roughly analogous manner, Donald Trump is shattering
the boundaries between ‘professional politicians’ and ‘businessmen,’ between
party purists and party players, even between the serious business of governing
and the not-so-serious business of entertainment.
The point here is a simple one. Both Cam Newton and Donald Trump are
mold-breakers. Exuberant, successful (so
far), and in-your-face mold-breakers. I
didn’t see this aspect of Trump’s appeal until last weekend’s Panthers’
domination of the Cardinals (and I will resist comparing Carson Palmer to Jeb!
Bush).
That said, I’m all in for Cam Newton. I’m all out for Donald Trump: out of
patience, out of outrage, and probably out of anything more to say. Sports and politics may have similarities—the
latter becoming increasingly like the former as a series of reality-TV cage
matches. But their differences, and those of their current headliners, should be
vastly more important.
For one thing, Cam seems to be a genuinely good guy, a young
man who has matured (as young people are wont to do) into responsible—and in
his case, exemplary (see all his community outreach
initiatives)—adulthood. In contrast, the
Donald seems to be a toxic narcissist who has become more self-absorbedly
juvenile as he’s aged.
For another thing, Cam Newton’s Panthers’ winning or losing
the Super Bowl will not have much impact on the nation or the world (apart from
further discrediting lingering racist ideas about who’s genetically
disqualified from sports leadership positions).
Donald Trump’s partisans (and Trump’s own protean media-savviness)
propelling the Apprentice-meister into becoming the actual Republican
Presidential nominee would have a huuuuge national and global impact.
One that I fear would be disastrous. Which is why their
strategic and, yes, flexible-talent similarities are interesting, perhaps
illustrative, but no more than that. Cam Newton and Donald Trump were separated at birth by a host of factors: not the least of
which is that one seems to have imbued with common decency and fellow-feeling,
whereas the other . . . not so much, or not at all.
