Raheem Sterling, the cultural lightning rod
Raheem Sterling has unwittingly become the point of discussion for the intersection of race, culture and globalisation on the sports media landscape in Britain.
Raheem Sterling has found himself at the centre of a debate about racism in football, an issue long thought relegated to annals of history, removed from the modern British game, with its last vestals festering in some minnow leagues on the continent. However last weekend, racism in the beautiful game had seemingly reared its ugly head again. It should be noted that the abuse so far is only alleged to be racist in nature, rather than the run of the mill abuse fans hurl at players for the crime of being talented enough to play professionally. As such, one should hold their judgement as it relates to racism until the facts have been clarified. However, what is more interesting is the simmering cultural fault lines the debate has unwittingly thrown up. Debates around what particularly about Sterling’s character draws such negative attention his way, and who that negative attention stems from. Raheem Sterling like it or not has become the poster child for a discussion about the role race and culture play in modern football, a discussion rarely had on this side of the Atlantic or at least seldom spoken about in any form of frank honesty.
The Americanisation of the British Sports Star
The influence of American popular culture and particularly black American popular culture on modern Britain is clear to see, from the lexicon; twerk and bling to music; by the fact multinationals have used the music of Dead Prez and DMX to sell consumers 4x4s’s and fried chicken. Popular culture in the United States is heavily influenced by the amalgamation of different African American subcultures, mostly prominently in the spheres of sports and entertainment. Which have overwhelming influenced popular culture and in which black America dominates in terms of labour but not in terms of ownership. The NBA and the NFL has bared witness to the good, bad and in between of the impact of African American culture on sports, as can been seen in the likes of Deion ‘Must Be the Money’ Sanders, Allen ‘The Answer’ Iverson to the modern black boy joy of Odell Beckham Junior. The different aspects of African American culture each of these athletes have showcased, be it in the form flamboyant celebrations, attire, haircuts or displays of wealth, is no longer limited to that of American athletes, it has increasingly become the adopted swagger of British sports stars to.
Everybody Hates Lewis Hamilton
Lewis Hamilton on paper should be a national treasure; a good looking, five times world champion, with an obligatory come-up story of parental self-sacrifice. Lewis Hamilton should be beloved by all that bear witness to his talent, at least in theory. But the public’s relationship with Lewis can be described as begrudgingly respectful at worst or awkwardly proud at best. Maybe it’s the fashion choices, the tax haven residential status, the constant socialising with celebrities or the flaunting of wealth on social media. Where such behaviour is the standard of the modern American sports superstar, such behaviour is still frowned upon in the UK, especially if it is not accompanied with a heavy side of humility genuine or fraudulent. Such reservations would go some way to explaining why Dave Kitson might think players like Sterling make themselves targets with their social media posts. Sterling has been accused of flaunting his wealth on social media, and the media circus that followed his transfer away from Liverpool did not help the perception of him. So, if Sterling and company do not demonstrate the correct behaviour of a sports star, then who pray tell does?
Respectability politics tight rope
Frank Bruno can easily be described as a national treasure to some Britons who can remember the fighter in his pomp. The idea of a national treasure, of an individual being so beloved that they embody the collective pride and geniality of a nation, is like transcending race in the United States. The Mount Olympus of public opinion, the halo which O.J. Simpson had striven for and the crown to which Oprah Winfery and Michael Jordan wear. In the contexts of the United Kingdom, one could easily argue you that another boxer, Anthony Femi Joshua, currently bask in the transcendent glow the status of national treasure bestows. A better illustration of this transcendence would be Frank Bruno. I will admit my knowledge of Bruno’s popularity is limited to what I have read and seen years after Bruno was at the height of his powers. I can only go off watching Piers Morgan give him puppy dogs eyes as he reels off praise for the man, and by the description of differing perceptions of the man by sections of the black community in ‘Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ by Akala. Akala highlights Bruno’s royalism, Thatcherite politics and refusal to respect a cultural boycott of Apartheid South Africa as bones of contention. Stances which may have endeared him to one section of Britain but made him a pariah or worse still an uncle tom to another. For a black British athlete to transcend race and reach national treasure status they will be forced to navigate a difficult course of respectability politics, where they are forced to constantly reach and embody the expectations of others, regardless of what their true character might be.
The Tanning of the United Kingdom
Where the likes of Sterling may never embody the characteristics demanded of certain sections of British society, he is right on trend when it comes changes manifesting themselves in British youth culture and an increasingly globalised world. Youth culture in the United Kingdom is rooted in its cities and is multi-racial in complexion and influences. Nike’s ‘Nothing Beats a Londoner’ advert is a celebration of this reality. The changing complexion of British youth culture mirrors what Steve Stoute termed as ‘tanning’ in his book ‘The Tanning of America: How Hip-Hop Created Culture That Rewrote the Rules of the New Economy.’ As the influences on youth culture have increasingly come from ethnic minorities, groups which have looked to the United States for inspiration, while at the same time embracing the cultures of their parents and grandparents’ homelands, the cultural influences from both these places for better and for worse will end up seeping into British popular culture. In the premier league this has manifested itself in elaborate dap displays by Son Heung-min and his team mates, the Fresh Prince of the Premier League that is Paul Pogba or the viral dances such as the milly rock and shaku shaku accompanying a goal. The change taking place may seem like a reflection of cultural norms to one generation or section of society, but to another may seem completely alien or represent a wider cultural shift they do not feel comfortable with.
So, I say all of that to say this, where existed separate celebrity, sporting and musical cultures, now with the proliferation of social media, popular culture in the United Kingdom is drawing from a greater variety of influences. A diverse globalised popular culture is emerging, filtered at times by national domestic influences but global in nature regardless. That’s is why online you can watch a video of Romelu Lukaku (Manchester United) and Leonard Fournette (Tennessee Titans) share a phone call and see Odell Beckham Junior (New York Giants) have a meal with David Alaba (Bayern Munich). The abuse that gave rise to the Sterling debate is a reaction to the cultural upheaval that is birthing an emerging globalised popular culture, manifesting itself in allegedly racist form. But such behaviour must be put into context, the perpetrators are a minority and do not reflect most football fans. However, what does need to be explored and discussed is how British society as a collective is going to adapt to the changing cultural headwinds both internationally and domestically.
