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ity Councilman Frank Reddick is not a man of
many words. So, when he speaks, especially about local politics, people stop doing whatever it is they’re doing and listen closely.
Several weeks ago, Frank Reddick cleared his throat to speak. And in a manner of speaking, this is what he said.
He said he was concerned about the upcoming situ- ation in Tampa’s voting District 5 – a district which his- torically has had one of the largest Black constituencies in the City of Tampa (and here’s where Reddick’s brogue began to tremble), but because of an ever-pre- sent trend of gentrification, finds its predominately Black majority suffering the same fate as the Antarctic ice-shelf (if you get our meaning).
And here’s Reddick’s second hiccup: Just recently, by rumor or registration, no less than 5 Black candi- dates have made noises to the effect they plan to run for District 5 City Council seat. Reddick could be silent no longer.
No rocket science is necessary. If a slew of Black candidates run for the District 5 Seat (which is their in- alienable right), history suggests a dark horse (or per- haps, a white horse) will appear from left field, gallop onto a fractured (blood-soaked) voting battlefield, and walk off with the prize.
It has happened before.
But, is it fair to fret a situation of intense democratic interest and involvement, especially in a community where the vast majority of potential voters don’t vote?
And how should the “Fearsome Five” (or more) con- duct themselves behind closed doors so as to present a united front in the light of day? Or did Tampa’s Black folks think we would be majority-minorities forever?
Frank Reddick has done his duty by speaking. Now we must do our duty by voting.
oraslongasIcanre-
call, I’ve never been fond of the NFL combine, the annual event where the nation’s best college football players are invited to show- case their skills to potential employers.
To me, the image of mostly young Black athletes standing half-naked on podi- ums while hundreds of mostly white men measure their body parts, test their physical abilities and marvel at their physiques harkens back to a time when en- slaved Africans were bought and sold on auction blocks in a strikingly similar fashion.
The only difference be- tween then and now is that the Africans suffered their indignities under force while their descendants willingly allow themselves to be sized up like livestock in hopes of a big payday.
What makes this specta- cle even worse is that, after the young men are thor- oughly examined and prod- ded, they’re asked to meet with team representatives from across the League who further degrade them through a highly controver-
sial interviewing process where they’re asked a series of inappropriate questions with racist undertones like: Do you like sleeping with men? I heard your mother smokes crack, is that true? And how do you feel about her being a prostitute?
It is hard to imagine any other Fortune 500 corpo- ration engaging in this type of inquiry with the talented college graduates that they hope to recruit. But, of course, this is the NFL, an institution that seems to pride itself in keeping the plantation mentality alive.
To justify their actions, team officials say that the volatile questions give them a chance to see whether or not the person, who they’re willing to invest multiple millions into, is capable of maintaining his composure under duress. Ironically, this is a strategy also used in dog training.
In preparing a guard dog to live around a family with children trainers often pur- posely antagonize the ani- mal, testing its temperament in an effort to gauge if it can be provoked into biting the
hand of its master. And, judging by the fact that no stories have surfaced about one of these League inter- viewers having their jaw bro- ken after talking disrespectfully about some- one’s mother, I think it’s safe to say that the players the NFL allows into its fold are just as thoroughly tamed.
Even though the NFL’s hiring practices are ex- tremely offensive, it’s hard for me to come to grips with what’s going on behind the scenes without giving some of the players, who seem to tolerate their toxic working environment, a little side eye. After all, it isn’t like there’s a requirement for these young men to put up with the nonsense.
All the NFL does is place a “jobs available” sign inside of its door. If a man walks through, sees how he’s going to be treated at his new place of employment, and doesn’t leave, you can’t be mad at the NFL for successfully run- ning game.
The onus is on the mark to realize he’s being played. And, If he doesn’t, he de- serves everything that comes with knowingly embracing the role of a sucker.
Reality On Ice is © by the Florida Sentinel Bul- letin Publishing Com- pany. You can contact Mr. Barr at: cbar- ronice@gmail.com.
A Game For Suckers
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Tampa District 5: Drama Or Democracy
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