Carlos Delgado and John Carlos: Politics in Modern Sports

“Athletes are human beings. We have feelings too. How can you ask someone to live in the world, to exist in the world, and not have something to say about injustice?” -- John Carlos

“Because you’re a baseball player that doesn’t mean you get detached from society — at least you shouldn’t” -- Carlos Delgado

Carlos Delgado never appeared destined for superstardom.

He spent the most productive years of his career playing in Canada, for a team that never won much. That alone surely blunted the impact of his 473 home runs and 1512 RBI.

By the time he arrive in New York, the moment had passed. He was a great player, a great contributor and a feared hitter, but the fickle realm of superstardom cares little for stats or impact.

He was older and clearly in decline, not fit for spokesmanship. Besides, there were younger, more energizing talents around him, the David Wrights and Jose Reyeses and even Carlos Beltrans of the day.

I’m left wondering if Carlos Delgado—the one with over 2,000 career hits, the one who owns every significant hitting record in Blue Jays franchise history—even could have been a superstar.

Maybe in a different town? Probably not. He just didn’t project the marketable ebullience of a Ken Griffey Jr. or Sammy Sosa.

Besides, his achievements didn’t amount to much in an era of unprecedented power. Delgado was never connected to steroids, so maybe someday he’ll surpass Sosa in popularity, but it will only be in posterity.

Well, if not in a different town then maybe in a different time? Maybe.

As Dave Zirin and others have noted, there was a time when athletes of sound mind and strong opinion became heroes—and Delgado is certainly of both. An outspoken, left-leaning political advocate on many issues, including the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Delgado famously refused to stand for renditions of ‘God Bless America’ while a member of the Blue Jays.

When that refusal naturally turned Delgado into a target he told the New York Times, "It takes a man to stand up for what he believes."

There was a time when such statements created superstars, a time when men like Muhammad Ali transcended their sport because they stood for something. Now, in the aftermath of Michael Jordan and other apolitical marketing machines, one only achieves supserstardom in spite of active conscience—the less, the better.

As Jordan himself said, "Republicans buy sneakers, too."

Those words became the mantra of sports' corporate culture and an epitaph for the prior era. Whether or not you agree with Delgado, that much is certainly true.

Now, nothing about Delgado suggests he could have been like Ali, neither his talent nor his personality suggest that level of affect. But I do see something of a steely John Carlos in Delgado’s defiant posture—a raised fist, an unbowed man.

And 40 years ago, that moralistic spirit could have transformed slugger—or sprinter or boxer—into symbol.

The role of athletes in society has changed so thoroughly since then, it's hard to even imagine Carlos Delgado as a folk hero. It's difficult to envision his stoic face plastered across college dorm rooms or situated at the center of an intimate documentary—the notion borders on absurd.

Those days are long gone, Delgado's retirement simply adds emphasis.

Exit the soul, enter the shoe.

Further Reading:

Tom Verducci

Craig Calcaterra

Matthew Pouliot

The Toronto Star

SB Nation