At 20,
Jeremy Deberry surely is the best football player at Central Piedmont
Community College in Charlotte, N.V. He practices six days a week,
plays both ways and is generally regarded by his peers as among
the nation's elite performers, having earned the moniker the Champ.
Few address the sophomore as anything but. [1]
The accolades
above were not directed at a high school all-American or even a
finalist for the John Wodden award, but a video game player. Jeremy
Deberry is one of many talented virtual athletes, cashing in on
hand-eye success with fame and fortune. Donning jerseys, talking
trash, and working from excessive levels of testosterone, these
virtual sporting competitions are a ripe source of critical inquiry.
Whether examining the performativity of masculinity, heterosexuality
and whiteness, these emerging public competitions replicate the
ideologies and nature of nineteenth century minstrelsy. The resemblance
to minstrelsy transcends the fact that white cyber athletes primarily
compete, but with the ideologies, images and power that define this
high-tech form of blackface.
The sports gaming
industry is the crown jewel of the video games world. It is a one
billion dollar per year industry; sports games account for more
than thirty percent of all video games sales. While Tony Hawk and
other extreme sports games, all of which deploy race (whiteness)
in particular ways, are growing increasingly popular, the most popular
games remain those sports dominated by black athletes. Since 1989,
over 19 million units of John Madden Football have been sold. In
2002 alone, EA sports sold 4.5 million units. [2] "Today's
gaming resides squarely in mainstream America, and for them fantasy
means Tigers and Kobes. [3] As such, sports games represent a genre
in which characters of color exist as actors (protagonists) rather
than victims or aesthetic scenery. Eight out of ten black male video
game characters are sports competitors; black males, thus, only
find visibility in sports games. Just in larger society, the video
game industry confines (and controls through image and ideology)
black men to the virtual sports world, limiting the range and depth
of imagery. It is our task to examine briefly the range of images,
in terms of both individual and communal representations, demonstrating
the ideological and representational connections between minstrelsy
and the virtual sporting world.
High-Tech
Blackface
In a recent interview, Adam Clayton Powell III referred to video
games as "high-tech blackface," arguing that "because
the players become involved in the action … they become more
aware of the moves that are programmed into the game." [4]
With this in mind, this paper explores the ways in which sports
games reflect a history of minstrelsy, providing its primarily white
creators and players the opportunity to become black. [5] In doing
so, these games elicit pleasure, playing on white fantasies as they
simultaneously affirm white privilege through virtual play.
According to
historian Eric Lott, minstrelsy was a "manifestation of the
particular desire to try on the accents of 'blackness' and demonstrates
the permeability of the color line." He writes that blackface
"facilitate[s] safely an exchange of energies between two otherwise
rigidly bounded and policed cultures." Like minstrelsy, video
games may be "less a sign of absolute power and control than
of panic, anxiety, terror, and pleasure." [6] Video games break
down these same fixed boundaries with ease, given their virtual
realism, allowing its participants to try on the other, the taboo,
the dangerous, the forbidden and the otherwise unacceptable. [7]
A
Return to Minstrelsy: Sports in its Purest Form
Imitation, in both the real and virtual worlds, is not the highest
form of flattery. Norman Mailer, in his often cited, 1957 piece
entitled "The White Negro" asserts, "it is no accident
that the source of hip is the Negro for he has been living on the
margin between totalitarianism and democracy for two centuries."
Video games reflect this cultural reality, bespeaking black coolness
through its ubiquitous articulations of white supremacist ideologies,
grounded in a belief of black savagery and animalism (athleticism).
These powerful ideologies emanate through these games, and reflect
their connection to minstrelsy. Elijah Anderson, a professor of
sociology at University of Pennsylvania, argues that abundance of
racial stereotypes reflects longstanding fascination with blackness
as mysterious and cool, while simultaneously playing to deep-seeded
desires and needs of white game enthusiasts. "Blacks have always
been the other in this country. Many people living in the suburbs
admire this fire and this funk they see in blacks, a kind of aggressiveness
a lot of them want too. A lot of these suburban, white-bread kids
hunger for this kind of experience." [8] As with the history
of minstrelsy, sampling of the other is neither liberatory nor transgressive
-- it does not unsettle dominant notions through breaking down barriers
or increasing exposure. The ideas of blackness introduced through
video games reflect dominant ideologies, thereby providing sanction
for the status quo, legitimacy for white supremacy and evidence
for the common sense ideas of race, gender, sexuality and nation.
Sports games
represent a site in which white hatred and disdain for blackness
and its love and adoration for blackness is revealed through popular
culture. In borrowing from Eric Lott's work on minstrelsy, video
games reflect, "the dialectical flickering of racial insult
and racial envy, moments of domination and moments of liberation,
counterfeit and currency." [9] In other words, these games
reveal white supremacy in the form of both contempt and desire.
The contempt materializes in different ways, but in reflecting an
oppositional binary, sports games legitimize stereotypical ideas
about black athletic superiority and white intellectual abilities.
The adoration materializes in the approval and value we offer black
athletes, whether through financial rewards, posters on our walls,
or imitation. Video games fulfill our desire to not only emulate
Allen Iverson's killer crossover, Shaq's thunderous dunks, Barry
Bonds' homerun swing, or Barry Sanders spins, but allow the virtually
occupation of black bodies. It provides the means to experience
these supposedly unattainable skills, while deriving pleasure through
black male bodies. The desire to "be black" because of
the stereotypical visions of strength, athleticism, power and sexual
potency all play out within the virtual reality of sports games.
As Janis Joplin once noted, "being black for a while, will
make [you] a better white." Video games, like hip-hop and Malcolm
X hat, provide this opportunity, facilitating a process of racial
cross-dressing in which a primarily white game playing population
sample the other, experiencing an imagined coolness associated with
America's vision of blackness.
The
Virtual Black Athletic Body
It becomes quite clear through these games that blacks dominate
America's major sports and do so because of genetics. In each of
the sports games, the emphasis lies with black male bodies, whether
physicality and muscularity, or pure athleticism. The cover of NFL
Street embodies the racial text of sports video games. A muscle-bound
Ricky Williams, who bulges out of the box, is breaking free from
a tackle of Shannon Sharpe. While the emphasis on their muscles
(ten times their life size), and tattoos plays to authentic visions
of blackness, the depiction of each man as virtual gorillas situates
this game within the larger project of black minstrelsy.
Beyond the images,
black virtual athletes invariably reflect dominant visions of blackness
as it relates to athleticism. Whereas white athletes succeed because
of hard work, the mastery of black athletes emanates from their
God-given/genetic talents. The discursive articulations within both
the virtual and the real worlds that positions black athletes as
genetically athletics dialectically reinforce one another, articulating
and disseminating this widespread racial project.
Jumping as high
as the sun, knocking their competitors through concrete walls, and
making unfathomable moves on the court, sports games reveal both
innate black athleticism and their superhuman strength, endurance,
speed, and jumping ability. The few white players who do appear
within NBA Street, NFL Street, and several other
games have nowhere near the athleticism or the muscles of the black
players. The white player's dominance comes from their ability to
shoot, which comes from hard work and long hours on the court, not
good genes.
The genre of
sports games represents a site of pleasure in which game players
secure happiness through virtually occupying black bodies. C. Richard
King & Charles Springwood argue that the "black athlete
has been constructed as a site of pleasure, dominance, fantasy,
and surveillance." While certainly not writing about video
games, they further argue, "African Americans have been essentially
invented, policed and literally (re)colonized through Euro-American
ideas such as discipline, deviance and desire." [10] Identical
to real the world of sports, and its surrounding discourse, sports
games indulge white pleasures as they affirm stereotypical visions
of black bodies, as physical, aggressive and violent, while simultaneously
minimizing the importance of intellectualism and hard work in understanding
the supposed dominance of black athletes.
A majority of
sports games, from those based in real life to the extreme fantasy,
depict black males as physically and verbally aggressive and having
unusual body types. Black men are excessively muscular and hyper-masculine,
talking trash and crushing bodies with sheer force. Black players
tend to engage in other forms verbal assault with greater frequency
as well. A study by Fair Play concluded that eighty percent of African
American sports competitors engaged in verbally and physically aggressive
behavior, compared to fifty-seven percent of white characters. The
proliferation of hip hop / street games has further led to the exaggeration
of blatant racialized stereotypes and tropes.
Given the dominance
of black men within virtual sporting event, there lies a necessity
of control and surveillance. The performativity of sports video
games and their popularity, in fact, reflects a desire to reclaim
and control the world of sports, sanctioning, and ultimately controlling
black bodies. As blacks supposedly control sports in the real world,
video games allow white players to not only become the other, but
to discipline and punish. While there are a number of potential
examples, I want to talk briefly about NFL Street.
While encouraging
taunting, through bonus points and rewards ("stylin is what
separates the players from the Playaz"), the game seems to
police this practice as well. As you showboat, you run the risk
of fumbling or otherwise stumbling in the game -- there are consequences
for playing street. After several attempts to defeat the mighty
49ers, I had them on the ropes, leading 32-24 (on the street, you
play to 36) with ball in hand. All I needed was a touchdown. With
a tinge of nervousness, I launched a pass across the field, completing
it through a sea of defenders. As my man marched toward the promise
land, I decided to hold the ball back over my head as to rub my
imminent victory into my imagined opponent's head. Unfortunately,
I started my victory stride a bit early coughing the ball-up right
into the hands of Terrell Owens, who ran it back for a touchdown.
I, of course, went on to lose the game. As I slammed down my controller
as any male video game player might do, I could hear Chick Hearn
screaming "the mustard is off the hot dog" or the voice
of any number of announcers that habitually condemn and demonize
(black) athletes for excessive celebration. NFL Street,
like the NFL Rules Committee, and the NBA with its ban on baggy
shorts, visible trash talking and hangin' on the rim, polices those
actions see outside the spirit of the game. It reveals the consequences
of becoming street, compelling obedience to the hegemonic vision
of sportsmanship and etiquette. NFL Street thus embodies
America's simultaneous love and hate of black urbanness, reflecting
dominant desires to both police and become the other.
Virtual
Playing Fields
The most popular genre within the sports game is the street basketball
game, as evident in both NBA Street, Street Hopes
and NFL Street. The problematic nature of these games transcends
their acceptance and promotion of stereotypes that emphasize the
athletic power of black bodies. The ubiquitous focus on street basketball
and the glorification of de-industrialized spaces of poverty contribute
to common sense ideas of inner city communities and the constancy
of play with the black community. For example, NFL Street
takes traditional football gaming into both the streets and realm
of hip-hop. As you start against the NFC and AFC West, the initial
street battles take place on the EA Sports campus, a pristine field
with a few trash cans littered about, and a brick wall for out-of-bounds,
and the beaches of the Pacific Ocean, with waves proving to be the
only obstacles to a touchdown. Upon defeat of all eight teams, you
are able to unlock the other conferences, battling on the dangerous
streets of Detroit or New York rooftops. Interesting, and not surprisingly
given its namesake, the goal of the game is to be able to play on
the streets, within America's ghettoes, rather than on a sports
field.
The popularity
of the game has less to do with its game playability, but its emphasis
on an imagined street (black) culture. Whether the never-ending
hip-hop soundtrack or the numerous shots of graffiti art, the game
plays America's love affair with urban America, particularly that
which is imagined as black. As games glamorize inner city spaces,
commodifying them seedy and dangerous places, structural shifts
continue to worsen these spaces of life. Reflecting the hyper-visibility
and glorification of de-industrualized inner city community, games
like NFL Street and Street Hopes reflect the commodification
of African American practices of play within popular culture. This
process of borrowing is not limited to the generation of pleasure
for players, but is evident in the usefulness of black bodies and
ghettos within NFL Street. The commodification of black
urban aesthetics, in the form of trash-talking, taunting, showboating,
tattoos, earrings, violence and aggressive behavior signifies patterns
of minstrelsy given the pleasure of becoming the or becoming part
of an imagined black body, community, or aesthetic.
Writing about
shoe commercials, Robin Kelley argues that popular images of street
basketball "romanticize[s] the crumbling urban spaces in which
African American youth play." Such "representations of
'street ball' are quite remarkable; marked by chain-link fences,
concrete playgrounds, bent and rusted nettles hoops, graffiti-scrawled
walls, and empty buildings, they have created a world where young
black males do nothing but play." [11] The process of commodification
is not limited to the generation of pleasure for players, but is
evident in the usefulness of black bodies and space to the video
games industry. From the phenomenon of And-1 streets tours to ESPN's
street diaries, street basketball has become increasingly popular
over the last five years. Robin Kelley, again, demonstrates the
power of consuming the racialized other's space in both an ideological
and capitalist project.
Nike, Reebok,
L.A. Gear, and other athletic shoe conglomerates have profited enormously
from postindustrial decline. TV commercials and print ads romanticize
the crumbling urban spaces in which African American youth play,
and in so doing they have created a vast market for overpaid sneakers.
These televisual representations of "street ball" are
quite remarkable; marked by chain-link fences, concrete playgrounds,
bent and rusted netless hoops, graffiti-scrawled walls, and empty
buildings, they have created a world where young black males do
nothing but play. [12]
In other words,
those living outside these communities often refuse to engage "ghettos"
at a political, economic or social level, but enjoy playing inside
those spaces from the safety of their own home.
Moreover, the
ideological trope of limiting discussions of ghetto communities
to the play that transpires within such communities obfuscates the
daily struggles and horrors endured in post-industrial America.
The realities of police brutality, deindustrialization, the effects
of globalization on job prospects, and the fact that most parents
work three-jobs just to make end meet, are invisible as the dominant
image of street basketball continues to pervade American discourses.
The ubiquitous levels of poverty, the conditions that give rise
to chain-link fences and net-less hopes are lost to the "virtual
ghetto tourist." Enjoyment is not only garnered through this
process, but these games serve an ideological / political function
within contemporary America. Social problems are, thus, the result,
of community or individual failures. The constant focus on inner
city play, within video games, on ESPN and within popular culture,
leaves the impression that rather than working, rectifying social
problems and improving the community's infrastructure, black males
are too busy playing. Relying on longstanding notions of black laziness
and athletic superiority, these games reinforce sincere fictions
[13] about black males "kickin" it in the hood, while
simultaneously glamorizing and commodifying these spaces.
The exploitative
relationship with the black community and the video game industry
is significant within these urban sports games. Companies and its
players benefit through the consumption of inner-city communities,
while poverty, unemployment, and police brutality run rampant. As
more and more Americans "live in their" world, that world
is getting poor and poorer. The richest one percent of the population
in the US controls over half of the nation's wealth; the richest
ten percent controls nearly eighty-five percent. The poorest twenty
percent of the population, some sixty million people, are sharing
less than one-half of one percent of the wealth. Currently there
are nearly forty million people living in poverty in the United
States; another forty million people are one paycheck away, a 200%
increase from thirty years ago. As many as ten million people are
homeless or near homeless, most are women and children and half
are black; twenty-five percent of Americans do not have basic health
care. With each of these social problems, communities are not surprisingly
over-represented. Blacks and Latinos make up nearly half of all
those in poverty. While politicians and news media lament the strength
of the economy (by which they usually mean the financial speculations
of those wealthy enough to play the stock market), unemployment
for some groups is almost fifty percent. One out of five kids is
born into poverty in the US, one out of two black kids and American
Indians, one out of three Latinos. Under such worsening conditions,
the video game industry prospers, making money while directing our
attentions away from the depravity and sadness of inner-city America
towards the excitement and pleasure of street basketball. A critical
literacy that bespeaks to both the power of sports video games,
in their articulation of stereotypes, and the affirmation of racialized
stereotypes is necessary. A willingness to engage games not purely
as toys, but vehicles of ideological meaning and cultural products
affirming contemporary hegemony, is needed for understanding color-blind
racism in the 21st century.
It has become
commonplace in the world of sports to blur reality with the virtual
through the deployment of video games. Whether on TNT's NBA Tonight
or ESPN's College Game Day, the sports are increasingly
relying on video games technology as a tool of imagination and fantasy.
Bypassing actual game footage, media outlets are now able to force
Yao to battle Shaq, even if the big Aristotle is injured, or see
a pass play despite the coach's decision to run at the end of the
game. Whether on ESPN.com or within sports telecasts, the last five
years have thus witnessed a merging of the virtual and the real
within the sport world.
Beyond the fantastical
desires or that of spectacles, sports video games increasingly serve
as a tool of prognostication. If you are curious about the outcome
of a game or are planning to make wager, video games exist as a
pedantic source of information. This was no truer than during the
pre-game festivities for the 2004 Super Bowl. As the teams prepared
in the locker room, the CBS pre-game show provided viewers with
a preview using virtual technology -- EA Sports Football.
As to further obfuscate the divide between virtual and real, their
homage to video games allowed not just representations of game and
players, but a virtual reincarnation of the announcers as well.
Upon completion of the simulated scenarios that might present themselves
after kickoff, the coverage fluidly shifted from the virtual conversations
of Jim Nantz, Boomer Esaison, Dan Marino and Deion Sanders to their
actual (real) bodies, leaving Primetime speechless. Without hesitation,
Sanders lamented the absence of realism in their virtual treatment,
exclaiming, "It looks nothing like me. It looks like something
from the planet of the apes." Pulling out his cell phone, Primetime
continues telling his silent white peers, "I am calling Johnny
Cochran to get this straightened out." As one researches sporting
video games, it is clear that the racialized representation of Deion
Sanders reflects the guiding ideologies and image of the virtual
sports world, given the preponderance of gorilla-like images, and
jungle settings. The hegemony of whiteness as both producer and
consumer of such games, as well as the longstanding pleasure / power
generated through becoming the animalized black man or playing within
dangerous black spaces, places sporting video games within the history
of minstrelsy.
References:
[1] John Sellers, Sports Illustrated on Campus (February 2003),
p. 17
[2] Evan Ratliff, "Sports Rule" in Wired, 94-101
(January 2003), p. 96
[3] Ibid.
[4] Michael Marriott, "Blood, Gore, Sex and Now: Race"
in The New York Times (October 21, 1999). Retrieved July
8, 2003 from http://query.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=FA0A14FA385D0C728EDDA90994D1494D81
[5] Greg Costikyan, "Games Don't Kill People - Do They?"
in Salon.com (1999). Retrieved July 8, 2003 from http://www.salon.com/tech/feature/1999/06/21/game_violence/print.html
[6] Michael Rogin, Blackface, White Noise: Jewish Immigrants in
the American Melting Pot (University of California Press: Berkeley,
1998), p. 35
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid. [2]
[9] Eric Lott, Love & Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the
American Working Class (Oxford University Press: New York,
1993), p. 18
[10] C. Richard King and Charles Fruehling Springwood, Beyond
the Cheers: Race as Spectacle in College Sport (State University
of New York Press: Albany, 2001), p. 101
[11] Robin Kelley, "Playing for Keeps: Pleasure and Profit
on the Postindustrial Playground" in: Waheema Lubiana (ed.),
The House that Race Built (Vintage Books: New York, 1998),
p. 198
[12] Ibid., p. 195-196
[13] This term was initially offered by Joe Feagin and Hernan Vera
in White Racism: The Basics (New York: Routledge, 1995)
to refer to white myths about race and communities of color within
contemporary America.
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