The Changing face of sports in the United States is the Black male athlete who does what he wants, when he wants. Steven Rushin discusses this humorously in his article "Tardy On!" (Sports Illustrated, May 3, 2004). In the article, Rushin mentions many athletes that are famously unpunctual. The athletes he mentions vary between all sports, ranging from Allen Iverson and LeBron James of basketball fame, to Pedro Martinez of baseball to Lawrence Taylor of football. The common link between these great athletes, other than their untimeliness, is their race; all of these athletes are black. Rushin jokes that these athletes display that once fame and fortune enter into an athlete's life, punctuality and other minor aspects of daily life are forgotten. Showing up on time is not important to the athlete and should not be important to anyone else. Rushin mocks a quote by Iverson that was made after a missed practice,

"Practice? I mean, listen, we're talking about practice. Not a game. Not a game. Not a game. We're talking about practice. Not a game. Not the game... Not the game. We're talking about practice, man... We're talking about practice... We're talking about practice, man. What are we talking about? Practice. We're talking about practice, man."

Rushin uses this ridiculous quote to illustrate how little Iverson thinks of a missed practice. To Iverson, a missed practice is not even something to talk about, because he doesn't think it's important. Rushin introduces us to a larger issue that has been focused on black male athletes. It is common thought that these athletes have no regard for the precedent that 'white America' deems important.

Kobe Bryant is another figure that 'plays by different rules', rules not set by white America. Many people look to his abilities on the court to make this point. When his rookie year started, people began to acknowledge him as an heir to the Jordan throne. In the seven years that have passed since that season, Bryant hasn't taken that role fully. In Ralph Wiley's article, 'The Good, the Bad, the Next MJ,' (ESPN.com, May 7, 2004), Kobe Bryant is presented as the "Bad Jordan." This claim comes not from his current legal troubles, but rather his play on court. He is criticized constantly as a selfish player, who has little drive for team success. The article argues that he is willing to step up his game in the event that he would look less powerful or athletic, but he would not play hard on an everyday basis. It is for this that white America has looked upon Bryant disapprovingly in past years. Though Todd Boyd would argue that Bryant is just playing with a Hip-Hop/ playground mentality, when he seems selfish on the floor, raising the sport to a new level, this argument is lost on many, especially as his team is now quickly losing the tight grip it had on the NBA just a few years ago.

In the article "Race hasn't left the ballpark," Richard Lapchick (ESPN.com, April 14, 2004) presents a similar case for baseball superstar Barry Bonds. Lapchick comments on mainstream medias attention of Barry Bonds in comparison to past baseball sluggers, specifically Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa. Lapchick defines Bonds as a good ballplayer that doesn't give into the pressures of white America. Much like Kareem Abdul-Jabaar's famous image, Bonds refuses to smile to placate the norm. Lapchick argues that things haven't changed since Abdul-Jabaar's time. He says that because Bonds presents the image of a strong, independent black man, white America fears him and in fearing him presents him in a negative light. It is Bonds refusal to give into mainstream America that produces a media that ignores his charge to break the homerun records of whites, whether it is McGwire or Ruth. It is also because of his race and refusal to placation that allows the mainstream's call to put an asterisk next to his records due to his steroid use. Lapchick argues that McGwire didn't elicit this response because he was a big, burly white man, which doesn't evoke the same racist images of a strong, independent black man. Boyd would make the same argument here for Bonds, as he would have for Bryant in regards to the previous article. Lapchick ignores all other possibilities of the media and the mainstreams negative stance against Bonds and says, "we want to avoid what may be a real factor regarding the public's unwillingness to accept Bonds... [he] plays by his own rules, not the rules of baseball decorum or white social norms." Lapchick uses historical examples of racism in the homerun race to prove his point. He points to the constant death-threats that marred Henry Aaron's race to beat Babe Ruth. Lapchick argues that nothing has changed in the thirty years that has passed since these races. He also ignores the fact that Aaron played for a team in the deep south only 10 years removed from the height of the civil rights movement, while Bonds plays in arguably the most liberal city in America. Furthermore, Lapchick ignores the death threats that Roger Maris received when he was attempting to beat Ruth's single season home run mark in 1961. Maris was a white, country, farm boy, as his image was presented in the media. American's however refused to let anyone, regardless of race, take away the most powerful record that Ruth held. Boyd would have argued that Bonds is bringing the Hip-Hop ideals of "keeping it real" and individualism to baseball, and white America is offended with this, because a strong, black man is 'hijacking their game."

Jayson Williams presents an interesting contradiction. Williams is a former superstar for the New Jersey Nets that impressed fans, black and white. His personality was famous, with a huge grin and stories that would impress anyone. When his career ended he moved to the announcer's booth and still won crowds of all races. Tragically though, two years ago he was involved in the death of his limousine driver. Williams's trial just ended, and though he was acquitted for manslaughter, he was convicted of four charges in the cover-up of the shooting. Williams was accepted by white America to a certain extent, whether he attempted to or not. In "The Two Faces of Jayson," (Sports Illustrated, May 10, 2004) Phil Taylor argues that the jury was unable to overcome his charismatic and gregarious personality. Taylor argues that this inability to convict based on Williams's personality was a reckless mistake. Williams is a figure of the strong, independent black athlete, who was able to enjoy the benefits of the approval of white America, and through those benefits, he was able to escape charges of manslaughter. This contradicts Lapchick's statements on Barry Bonds to an extreme measure. Lapchick argued that Bonds race is one of the factors implicating his steroid use charges, while Taylor says that though Williams is a strong, black, male presence, he was still saved by white America.

Beyond that contradiction lays another black male athlete that has made news in the past six weeks. When the University of Connecticut Huskies won both NCAA basketball championships, many people talked about their star athletes. Because of the patriarchy alive in sports today, Emeka Okafor's name came up much more often then Diana Taurasi, his female counterpart. Okafor lead the male Huskies to the championship in many facets. His individual statistics were staggering: 17.6 points per game, 11.6 rebounds per game, and 4.1 blocks per game. His play transcended individualism however. He was a force on defense that allowed UConn to lead the nation in opposing field-goal percentage, by closing the lane. He opened the entire floor on offense though. It was his leadership that empowered UConn to win the Big East tournament, even while Okafor was unable to play due to back pain. His abilities carried beyond the basketball court earning him a 3.76 GPA and a degree in finance a year before his classmates. In "Slam Dunk," (Sports Illustrated, April 19, 2004) Seth Davis presents Okafor as an example of a strong, black athlete accomplishing the demands of white America, yet he still falling under the radar screen. Names like Iverson, James, Bryant still attract all the attention in white media though they are said to have gone against white Americas conventions which is detestable according to columnists and authors. Boyd's head would explode at such a concept. Much like Tim Duncan, who Boyd mentions scantly in his text, Okafor is doing everything exceptionally, fulfilling both the demands of 'white' America and 'black' America or Hip-Hop culture. Boyd and other like-minded writers cannot account for athletes such as Okafor. He transcends individualism, plays well as an individual, and fits into the norms of white America. In Wiley's article a similar point is raised about Timber-wolves superstar Kevin Garnett. This years MVP recipient is named "The Good Jordan" in Wiley's review. This amounts to still only half of the Jordan necessary to become the next Jordan. Wiley argues that it is selfishness, arrogance, and mean-spirits that Garnett lacks to make him a truly great player. It is difficult for white America, or black America for that matter, to accept an athlete that plays by the rules and does everything right, and nice. From both race, comments on the skills of the black athletes who run against the norms are heralded, because it is argued that the mainstream refuses to acknowledge them. In the effort to acknowledge those who do not fit into the prototype that mainstream America wants we often ignore the greats that come around that do fulfill that promise. These athletes are Emeka Okafor, Tim Duncan, Kevin Garnett, and Albert Pujols. Because they are not "bad" they are ignored.

One can break the mold and show their greatness however. This is shown in men like Sylvester Croom. Croom was hired to be the first African-American head coach of an SEC school. In Rick Bragg's article "Long Time Coming," (Sports Illustrated, April 19, 2004) the head coaching position of a southern state school is compared to governor. This high position had yet to be granted to a black man before Sylvester Croom just a few months ago. Croom's history with racism and football in the Deep South did not start with his signing to be the coach of this team. It started before in his childhood. As the child of a civil rights activist, Croom would kick imaginary game-winning field goals over his clothesline in his backyard. He imagined playing for the University of Alabama, but he knew that was a fantasy as Bear Bryant had yet to integrate until 1970. He went to a newly integrated junior high school where he was ignored by all of his white classmates except for on the football field. A story that Croom recalls in the article describes the three-mile walk that the black athletes had to take to the practice fields. One day the white quarterback of their team drove by them and stopped. The black players could not all fit in the back seat of the car so the quarterback and his mother invited one of them to sit in front with them. This was taboo and could earn one a death sentence from the Klan at this time. Croom's story continues to include him in the second class of black players to play for Bear Bryant at the University of Alabama. There he earned regards as an All-American and was named a team captain. After a brief career in the NFL, Croom left to coach both as a head coach and an assistant in the NFL. When Mississippi State hired "a coach not a color" a few months ago they made no mention of him being the first coach of his race in the SEC or the fact that he is of 5 other division 1 coaches of his race, out of 117 programs.