O’Neil, Sean. Spirit and Sport: Religion and the Fragile Athletic Body in Popular Culture. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 2022. Pp. 210. $50.00 paperback and e-book.
Reviewed by Łukasz Muniowski
Sean O’Neil introduces himself in the Preface to his book as “an ordained Christian minister and a bishop” (p. xi). And both occupations set the tone for Spirit and Sport, as it is devoid of religious objectivity. That is not to mistake this work as a piece of Christian propaganda; it is not that. Rather, it may be perceived as an overly-enthusiastic and -analytical account of a life filled with various trials and tribulations, with extra layers of examination of cultural texts included to back up the author’s devotion to the idea of faith as the guiding force to all Earthly events.
As positive and uplifting as this perspective may be, it must be stated that the tissue connecting these stories is sometimes very thin, just as some events one would regard as coincidental are, instead, forcefully ascribed to God. Granted, for some people, faith often steps in when no scientific explanation is possible, and O’Neil does not assume that his beliefs will align with those of his readers. Nonetheless, I found my mind all too often wandering rather than wondering during the read, unconvinced by O’Neil’s belief in a higher order and God’s plan. That being said, I found the book at times quite compelling and informative, as some connections made by the author between works of popular culture and sports stories simply work. Some, however, seem far-fetched.
The connection between sports and religion is simple, almost natural, with myths, rituals, and symbols used by both to conjure up and enforce meanings, making life more bearable. One of the most common myths that the author also addresses in Spirit and Sport is the American Dream or the myth of individual opportunity, which O’Neil connects with the Great Sports Myth, “the widespread belief that sports are intrinsically good, and that people can either preserve that purity or sully it by their misdeeds” (p. 6). Seen that way, finding meaning equals finding goodness, as if the two were interdependent with each other, existing symbiotically to inspire and motivate. It is hard not to agree with that idealistic view, even though achieving that in real life all too often involves putting yourself first.
In popular culture, a physically-inferior athlete often beats a larger and stronger opponent because of strength of will or character. From a narrative perspective, underdog stories are the most compelling, as watching a stacked team or a star athlete steamroll through the opposition, while impressive, does not make for a gripping story. The craving for narratives––the need to bend reality in order to make it fit into familiar archetypes and tropes––fuels the way sports stories are told. While the author does not include this narrative in his book, when the LeBron James-led Cavaliers faced the Golden State Warriors in the NBA Finals for four-straight seasons (2015-2018), they were presented as the underdogs, even though both teams were filled with NBA stars. It was just that the Warriors were a better run organization with a better-constructed roster.
To give an example of how compelling O’Neil’s arguments can be, he juxtaposes the career narratives of Tim Tebow and Dak Prescott. Both quarterbacks who have enjoyed some success in the NFL, albeit Prescott is better and more reliable. Tebow’s success, while short-lived in comparison to Prescott’s seven-season-and-counting spell as the quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys, was more publicized and presented as more unlikely, even though Prescott was a fourth-round pick while Tebow was selected in the first round. Both men are devoted Christians, but, because Tebow is white, faith is more likely to take center stage in the construction of his media persona. Prescott, like many African-American athletes, was criticized for something a white athlete would be lauded for; in his case, it was speaking out about anxiety during games. Therein lies the conflict between the demand for Black athletic bodies and the rejection of the minds of African-American athletes, which the author so precisely connects with Jordan Peele’s Get Out. Similarly to the way the antagonists of the movie want to inhabit the bodies of African Americans, the media sees Black quarterbacks as playing in a more unorganized way, as if they are too reliant on their physical abilities instead of the intellectual capabilities often ascribed to white athletes. Even as more and more players are proving that narrative to be untrue, a certain bias exists in the media whenever a Black athlete commits a mistake.
The author sees the racism in that narrative, and he is not hesitant to point out the hypocrisy of media representations, regardless of race or religion, of other athletes as well. To show the complexity and unpredictability of this work, I would have to go chapter by chapter, as O’Neil packs a couple of threads in each and connects them with the aid of religious writings, characters, and/or learnings. The writing itself is compassionate and inclusive, filled with personal anecdotes and accounts, regardless of if he is conducting movie analysis, writing about disability, or deconstructing athlete career narratives. Even though the argumentation does not always work, the book is worth a look because of the argumentation that actually works.
Łukasz Muniowski recieved his Ph.D. in American Literature from the University of Warsaw. He is the author of Three-Pointer! A 40-Year NBA History (McFarland, 2020), Narrating the NBA: Representations of Leading Players after the Michael Jordan Era (Lexington, 2021),and The Sixth Man: A History of the NBA Off the Bench (McFarland, 2021).
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