Lebron also recently set the record for most games played in NBA history. Both Close and James have made recently headlines for their work on the court but also through their words they show they struggle to understand “regular people”.

Over the past half-decade, Name, Image, and Likeness, aka NIL, and the transfer portal has changed college sports in a major way. Those changes have made the responsibilities of coaches like Cori Close increased. During her team’s road to the NCAA women’s basketball national championship, Close discussed the challenges saying, “I’ve never been as tired as I’ve been in the last two years, and it’s made me think how much longer I can do this. And I’m just being transparent with you about that. There are so many things that are harder, and we keep losing incredible people on the men’s and the women’s side.” Close has been the head coach of the UCLA women’s team for 15 years so she has seen the changes in not only women’s college basketball but college sports as well. It is also worth noting that she also made reportedly close to $900,000 in salary in her position which is lower than her fellow Final Four peers as head coaches but certainly a livable wage even in Los Angeles.

College head coaches who complain about NIL and transfer portal are certainly inadvertently complaining about the power that the newfound power that the collegiate athletes have in this new era. Today’s college athletes have more power than any generation and that ranks a lot of college coaches that had all the leverage as it relates to retaining players and making decisions on the careers of collegiate athletes. It is notable that Close’s words about being a college basketball head coach were not shared by some of her colleagues such as Louisville’s Jeff Walz, who stated, “My favorite line, I would tell her, if you don’t like your job, find a new job. I mean, I’m listening this morning at 4:20 as the workers outside my window at the hotel in the street are working. I mean, you choose your profession. If you don’t like it, find a new profession.” Also, fellow competitor South Carolina’s Dawn Staley said, “I welcome change. I like challenges. I like to figure out things and still find a way to be successful. I think when that leaves me, then I know it’s time for me to move on.”

LeBron James famously was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers as the “savior” of the team closest to his hometown of Akron. He apparently would not have wanted to be drafted by the Memphis Grizzlies when he entered the NBA in 2023. In the interview with Bob Does Sports, James joked that a star athlete his age would not be staying at the Hyatt in Memphis and he feels that the Memphis Grizzlies team should relocate to Nashville. James’s issues as an NBA player playing in Memphis are a true example of an “out of touch” professional athlete complaining about situations that the average person doesn’t have to encounter. It is noteworthy that James’s comments were made on the golf course and are an example that he has been a multi-millionaire longer in his life than he hasn’t been even though he grew up in humble financial circumstances as the son of a single mother. Sports figures like Cori Close and LeBron James need to have some humility when they complain about aspects of their jobs to better understand the challenges that everyday people face.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines

The subjective and somewhat mythical title of “face of the league” is based on a number of factors. The first is the player’s talent as they have to be among the best at their sport at that particular period of time. The professional sports league must also market that athlete through commercials and ads which show the athlete’s charisma, and it is also important that the athlete who is the “face of the league” shows leadership qualities to not shy away from the spotlight placed on them. In sports history, it is easy to name some of the recognizable “faces of the league” in different sports like Michael Jordan and LeBron James in the NBA, Wayne Gretzky and Sidney Crosby of the NHL, and Ken Griffey Jr. in Major League Baseball. It could be said that it is as important for women’s professional sports leagues to have a “face of a league” to draw more casual fans and continue to develop the interest around women’s sports.

While the WNBA has continued to grow in popularity in the recent years, some of that can be attributed to a new “face” of the league, Caitlyn Clark. Clark isn’t the best player in the WNBA, as that would be A’ja Wilson, but she is the most recognizable name and face of the league due to numerous factors. Trinity Rodman had a built-in factor that makes her a compelling sports figure due to her last name. As the daughter of Basketball Hall of Famer Dennis Rodman, she has now made her own legacy separate from her father, whom she has had a very rocky relationship with. At just 23 years old, Rodman’s skills, flair on the soccer field, and age made her so important to the NWSL that the instituted new league clause to give their teams a better chance to retain U.S. soccer stars from leaving to play in alternative soccer leagues overseas.

Soccer is the global game so while Trinity Rodman is talented she is not the best women’s soccer player in the world. She ranked 37th of ESPN’s top 50 women’s soccer players in the world and among the best U.S. soccer players. Rodman has battled injuries at times in her young career but the NWSL is putting all their hope that she can draw casual sports fans and keep diehard soccer fans glued to the league as their “face of the league”.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “public relations” as “the business of inducing the public to have understanding for and goodwill toward a person, firm, or institution”. The NFL has made several quality public relations moves over the past two decades including moving the NFL Draft to a different NFL city every year and upgrading kickoff returns in game. However, the NFL recently winning its grievance to stop NFL Players Association Report Cards can be viewed a public relations negative in multiple ways. Last month, an arbitrator found in favor of effectively banning the union from publishing future player report cards and that the report cards violated the collective bargaining agreement by “disparaging NFL clubs and individuals.”

The annual NFLPA report cards issue letter grades in areas such as player amenities, travel accommodations, coaching and ownership. They also focus on how NFL players’ families are treated including family meeting areas pregame and postgame and they matter a lot to NFL players. Every year when they are published, there are NFL organizations that are lauded for their overall amenities and treatment of players and their families while there are other NFL organizations that receive negative attention for being subpar in comparison to other NFL organizations. Having those important factors publicized forces NFL organizations to keep up if they are lacking in areas and improves things overall for all NFL players and NFL organizations, i.e. owners, wanting no publicity about some of the more daily aspects of their organization can be viewed as negative PR.

Over the last 20 years, the NFL is aiming to stop the NFL Players Association’s annual report cards grading each of the 32 franchises can be viewed among the three worst PR moves by the NFL on the last 20 years. Here are the three worst PR decisions by the NFL of the last 20 years (from fifth worst to the worst):

3. NFL wins grievance to halt NFLPA’s public release of team report cards-Not wanting the NFL players to grade the positives and negatives of NFL organizations for public release is not the best look for NFL team owners or NFL organizations.

2. Roger Goodell’s mea culpa on video to Colin Kaepernick-Back in 2020, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell publicly said he wished the league had “listened earlier” to polarizing former NFL quarterback Colin Kaepernick, known for protesting during Star-Spangled banner in 2016. Kaepernick never played in the NFL again after 2016.

1. 2012 “Fail Mary” NFL game-The importance of actual NFL referees was emphasized in 2012 when a last second Hail Mary throw by Seattle quarterback Russell Wilson was first grabbed by Green Bay safety M.D. Jennings. Jennings was able to pin the ball to his body as he fell to the ground and landed on top of Seattle wide receiver Golden Tate. Tate tried to wrestle the ball away, and his efforts led to confusion among the refs. After several minutes of replay review, the NFL replacement refs ruled it was shared possession and a touchdown for the Seahawks. The call was universally considered to be wrong and the call was a major reason that two days later, an agreement was reached to end the referees’ lockout.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines

Laila Edwards is a two-time national championship senior forward for the Wisconsin Badgers. Her inclusion on the U.S. women’s hockey team for this year’s Winter Olympics set history. When she made her Olympic debut at the 2026 Milan Cortina Games earlier this month, Edwards became the first Black woman to compete for the U.S. women’s ice hockey team. She recorded an assist that same game and on the following game during the Team USA’s 5-0 victory over Canada, she became the first Black woman to score a goal. At just 22 years old, Laila Edwards is considered a future high draft pick for the PWHL, the highest profile women’s professional hockey league in North America.

Hockey has long been considered the most unwelcoming historically to Black people among the five major sports (basketball, baseball, football, soccer, hockey) in the U.S. Despite groups like The Black Girl Hockey Club, it has been difficult to draw in more Black people as participants and fans of the sport. Growing up in Cleveland Heights, Laila Edwards began playing hockey at age 5 and often played on hockey teams as the only girl on the team due to a lack of girl’s hockey teams and leagues. Now as a young adult, Edwards has some awareness of her being on the U.S. women’s national hockey team. “I take a lot of pride in it,” she said. “Just to have the ability to be a role model and hear that people are looking up to me, that’s something I really appreciate.”

Being from Cleveland Heights also links Laila Edwards to the well-known football brothers, the Kelces. Former Philadelphia offensive lineman turned NFL television analyst Jason Kelce and current Kansas City tight end Travis Kelce donated a combined $10,000 to a GoFundMe to help Edwards’s family see her in-person play at the 2026 Olympic Winter Games in Italy. It is worth noting that the Kelce brothers did not personally know the Edwards family they just knew that they were from Cleveland Heights. They also shouted out Laila on their podcast “New Heights” prior to making the donation.

The magnitude of the path of getting to the Olympics also is something that Laila Edwards is aware of. “I have had so many people help me get here, and especially my family. They sacrificed time, money, you know, experiences,” Edwards said. During the course of her hockey career, it will be interesting to see and hear about her growth not just as a hockey player, but socially and as an advocate for both gender and race issues as many in her generation outside of sports have done.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines

Azeez Al-Shaair was undrafted entering the NFL in 2019 after playing college football at Florida Atlantic and eventually made the San Francisco 49ers team where he shared a position room with 49ers star linebacker Fred Warner. After a year with the Tennessee Titans in 2023, Al-Shaair joined the Houston Texans where his former defensive coordinator DeMeco Ryans, was the head coach of the team. Ryans thought well of Al-Shaair’s talent and play to make him a starting linebacker for Houston the past two years. As a player, Azeez Al-Shaair is a rangy, hard-hitting linebacker who has been known for being fined for the hard hits he has given to opposing players the past few years. He was even suspended during the 2024 NFL season for a hit on Jacksonville quarterback Trevor Lawrence.

For football players, it can be an interesting challenge to turn on the violence and energy on the football field and be a thoughtful and kind person off the football field. During an interview on NFL Network earlier this year, Al-Shaair discussed the differences of his on-field play and off the field personality. His community work is due to his mother’s values and his Muslim faith as he mentioned during the interview.

Azeez Al-Shaair was nominated as the Houston Texans club winner for The Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year Award because of his work with the non-profit organization United Way, an organization that helped him and his family when he was young. He also visited Covenant House with Special Teams Coordinator Frank Ross and his teammates to provide support and free haircuts, and also provided opportunities to young people during separate events who are in challenging financial situations due to their familial situation.

During the NFL Playoffs, Azeez Al-Shaair made a statement for what he was wearing and not what he was saying vocally. During Houston’s first playoff game against the Steelers, he wore eye black etched with the phrase “Stop the Genocide” in referencing Israel’s policies and actions in Gaza against thousands of Palestinians. The NFL levied a $11,593 fine to Al-Shaair for a violation of the NFL uniform and equipment rules, citing the display of a personal message. It did not stop him from again wearing eye black with the same message during the pregame huddle with his Texans teammates before their team’s loss to the Patriots. He did not wear it during the game. Al-Shaair is taking a stance on a smaller level than freedom fighter legends Malcolm X and Kwame Ture, who supported Palestinian rights. Al-Shaair previously used the NFL’s annual “My Cleats My Cause” initiative to demonstrate his support for the “Free Palestine” cause.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines

In December 2025, President Trump issued a sweeping proclamation expanding travel restrictions to 39 countries and individuals traveling on Palestinian Authority-issued documents, effective January 1, 2026. This move doubled the number of countries under full or partial bans compared to earlier in the administration. The stated goal: protect U.S. citizens from terrorist threats, visa overstays, and unreliable documentation.

The new rules differentiate between “full suspension” countries—where entry of immigrants and nonimmigrants is barred—and “partial suspension” countries, which face limited entry rules. Notably, exceptions for immediate relatives, Afghan Special Immigrant Visas, and international adoptions were removed, making the bans more restrictive than ever.

The Trump Administration’s expanded travel bans have led to reciprocal actions from several countries. Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger, for example, now bar U.S. citizens from entry or renewal of residency permits, forcing Americans living there to return home. This tit-for-tat approach has created a dual crisis: Americans must navigate both where they cannot safely travel and where they are no longer welcome. This is particularly upsetting for Black Americans that would want to visit African countries that are on the travel ban list. Due to the actions of the Trump Administration Black Americans are being barred from Black spaces simply because they are American. Though it’s understandable it is still unfortunate.

In total, the State Department has issued “Do Not Travel” warnings for 22 countries, including Afghanistan, Belarus, Burma, Central African Republic, Gaza, Haiti, Iran, Iraq, Libya, Mali, Niger, North Korea, Russia, Somalia, South Sudan, Sudan, Syria, Ukraine, Venezuela, and Yemen. In some cases, such as Venezuela, Americans are advised to “depart immediately” due to escalating instability. The offense of this administration has made American travelers targets, and for those that work abroad financial stability can be deeply affected.

The Trump Administration’s policies are rooted in national security concerns, citing high visa overstay rates, unreliable documentation, and terrorist threats. While these measures aim to protect Americans, they also create new risks for travelers:

• Heightened scrutiny at U.S. entry ports: Americans may face longer wait times and more rigorous screening, especially when traveling with non-citizens from banned countries.
• Legal and bureaucratic hurdles abroad: Some countries have introduced confusing bans on items like tobacco, prescription medications, and have tightened entry requirements. Failure to comply can result in detention or deportation.
• Limited consular support: In countries with reciprocal bans or strained diplomatic relations, Americans may find it harder to access U.S. embassy services in emergencies.
• The ripple effects of these policies extend to the travel industry. International travel to the U.S. has declined, with a projected loss of $12–19 billion in tourism revenue for 2026. American travelers abroad are also feeling the pinch, as some destinations impose new taxes, fees, and vetting requirements. For example, the “Visa Integrity Fee” now adds $250 per person for non-immigrant visas, making travel more expensive for families.

For Americans planning international travel in 2026, preparation is more important than ever:

• Check the latest State Department advisories for your destination and monitor updates regularly.
• Verify entry requirements and visa status before booking travel, especially for countries affected by bans or reciprocal restrictions.
• Prepare for extra vetting and documentation requests at both U.S. and foreign borders.
• Avoid non-refundable bookings and consult immigration attorneys for complex cases.
• Enroll in the Smart Traveler Enrollment Program (STEP) for real-time alerts and consular support.

Major global events, such as the 2026 FIFA World Cup, the 2028 Olympics, and the world tours of musical artists such as BTS are also affected by these policies. Visa restrictions and travel bans may prevent athletes, fans, and officials from participating or attending, raising questions about the inclusivity and success of these international gatherings.

Under the Trump Administration in 2026, Americans face a more complex and restrictive environment for international travel. While the stated aim is to enhance safety and security, the reality is a patchwork of bans, reciprocal restrictions, and heightened scrutiny that can make travel more challenging and, in some cases, less safe. Americans must stay informed, plan carefully, and remain adaptable to navigate this new era of global mobility.

If you are planning to travel, as a Black American, it is important to be extra careful. The list of things to check can double because you can become more of a target with less access to assistance than normal. Many may look at their travel plans against the global landscape and say, “you only live once”. This is true, life can be an adventure, but it is okay to adjust your plans due to the climate. In many cases safety must be prioritized of experiences.

Staff Writer; Christian Starr

May connect with this sister over at Facebook; C. Starr and also Twitter; MrzZeta.

Also via email at; CStarr@ThyBlackMan.com.

Ali understood something early that many Black men learn late, if at all. If you wait for this country to give you permission to be yourself, you will die waiting. His words were not crafted for posters or classrooms. They came from pressure, from surveillance, from punishment, from sacrifice. That is why they still land with weight today.

These nine quotes are not just inspirational sayings. They are cultural markers. They speak to Black struggle, Black pride, Black discipline, Black faith, and Black self definition in ways that still feel painfully current.

1. “He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life.”

As a Black man in America, risk has never felt optional to me. Even surviving comes with consequences. I learned early that fear is already built into the system, so living cautiously does not guarantee safety. All it really guarantees is smallness. Playing it safe does not protect us from scrutiny or punishment. It only makes us easier to overlook.

This hits home for me because I have heard my whole life that we should be patient, wait our turn, keep our heads down, and not rock the boat. That advice is often given out of love, but history shows it rarely protects us. Ali ignored that guidance publicly and paid for it with titles, money, and years he never got back. Still, I believe the real loss would have been silence. Watching his life unfold taught me that dignity costs something, but silence costs more.

I still wrestle with this today. Do I speak up at work and risk being labeled difficult or aggressive, or do I stay quiet and feel myself shrinking? Do I tell the truth when it is uncomfortable, or do I protect someone else’s peace at the expense of my own? Ali reminds me that risk is not recklessness. It is clarity. It is choosing growth over approval.

Nothing meaningful has ever been handed to Black people without pressure. Every gain came because someone accepted the cost of standing out. When I sit with Ali’s words, I am reminded that courage is not optional if I want more than survival. It is the price of self respect.

2. “I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’”

This speaks directly to the kind of discipline I was raised to understand. The kind that does not get celebrated or filmed. Ali was honest about the pain. He did not pretend the work was glamorous. He admitted that it hurt and still committed to it. That honesty resonates with me.

As a Black American, the grind feels familiar. We are often taught that we have to work twice as hard for half the recognition, and sometimes none at all. That exhaustion did not start with us. It was passed down. Ali did not deny that reality. Instead, he reframed it. He treated suffering as temporary and purposeful rather than endless and imposed.

The pain was never the point. Endurance was. Ali chose short term discomfort over long term regret, and that mindset echoes what I watched in my own household. Parents sacrificing rest, comfort, and ease so their children could stand a little taller and walk a little freer. That kind of sacrifice rarely makes headlines, but it builds foundations.

This reminds me that discipline is not about motivation. It is about commitment. I show up even when I hate it because quitting costs more than pain ever could. Pain fades. Regret stays.

3. “Age is whatever you think it is. You are as old as you think you are.”

I have never accepted the idea that the world gets to decide when I am finished. For Black men especially, age has often been used as a quiet dismissal. Too young to be taken seriously. Too old to matter. Too late to change direction. Ali rejected all of that, and so do I.

This challenges the lie that growth has an expiration date. I feel the pressure to figure everything out early because I know society does not always offer us grace later. Mistakes stick longer. Second chances come slower. Ali’s words push back against that anxiety and remind me that time does not erase purpose.

Even as his body slowed, Ali’s authority grew. Watching that taught me that strength is not only physical. Wisdom deepens. Presence sharpens. Dignity matures. Those are forms of power no one can take away.

This encourages me to see aging not as loss, but as layering. Each year adds perspective I could not have earned any other way. Ali’s life showed me that relevance is not assigned by numbers, but by intention. I am not done simply because someone else is done with me.

4. “I don’t have to be what you want me to be.”

This feels deeply personal to me. From the beginning, Black people in America have been told who we are allowed to be. The entertainer. The athlete. The worker. The symbol. Rarely the full human being with contradictions, complexity, and autonomy.

Ali refused to perform gratitude or obedience, and I understand why. He refused to soften his voice to make others comfortable, and I have felt the pressure to do exactly that. Shrinking yourself to fit someone else’s expectations is a slow kind of erasure.

I still navigate spaces where authenticity feels dangerous. Code switching is not a preference for me. It is a skill learned for survival. There are rooms where telling the truth costs opportunity, and Ali knew that reality long before many of us could name it.

This stands as a declaration of self ownership for me. I do not owe the world a version of myself designed for its comfort. Ali showed me that freedom begins the moment I stop asking permission to exist fully.

5. “Hating people because of their color is wrong. And it doesn’t matter which color does the hating. It’s just plain wrong.”

When I sit with this, I hear moral clarity, not convenience. Ali was not speaking to win points or soften realities. He was speaking from a place of hard-earned understanding. As a Black man, I know what it feels like to carry anger that did not start with me. I also know how easy it is for that anger to harden into something that quietly reshapes how you see everyone around you.

Ali never denied power or structural reality. Neither do I. Racism has teeth. It shows up in laws, institutions, economic barriers, and daily interactions. It leaves scars on bodies and minds. But Ali was drawing a line between confronting injustice and allowing hatred to take root inside you. I have watched people with every right to be angry become trapped by that anger, unable to rest, unable to trust, unable to heal.

What this forces me to confront is whether my struggle is rooted in dignity or dominance. Ali chose dignity. He refused to let racism turn him into something smaller, colder, or crueler than he already had to be. That kind of restraint is not weakness. It requires discipline. It requires a sense of self that is not dependent on revenge for validation.

In a time when racial conversations are often reduced to shouting matches and online performance, Ali’s words steady me. They remind me that freedom is not about mirroring the harm we received. It is about refusing to let hatred decide who we become in the end.

6. “To be able to give away riches is mandatory if you wish to possess them. This is the only way that you will be truly rich.”

I grew up understanding that wealth was not just about money. It was about who showed up when things got tight. Who shared when resources were thin. Who made sure nobody was left behind if they could help it. Ali spoke from that same foundation. He understood that money without generosity is hollow.

When I reflect on this, I think about how American culture encourages hoarding. Stack what you can. Protect it. Guard it. Separate yourself. Ali rejected that logic completely. To him, possession without purpose was insecurity pretending to be success. Giving was not charity. It was proof that you were not controlled by what you owned.

This resonates deeply for me because Black survival has always depended on circulation. From church envelopes passed quietly down rows, to borrowed rides, shared meals, and emergency help that never made the news, we endured because somebody gave even when it was inconvenient. Ali honored that truth by living it publicly.

What this reminds me is that legacy is not built by accumulation. It is built by impact. What I give away tells the real story of my values. Ali understood that real wealth leaves fingerprints on other people’s lives long after the money is gone.

7. “Life is so, so short. Bible says it’s like a vapor.”

This hits me in the chest every time. Ali understood how fleeting everything is. Fame fades. Bodies break. Applause stops. I feel that urgency too, especially as a Black man watching how quickly life can be interrupted without warning or explanation.

Faith has always been both shelter and strength in our community. It was never about passivity or escape. It was about endurance and grounding. Ali’s belief did not make him quiet. It made him fearless. When you truly accept how brief life is, fear loses its leverage over you.

I take this as a reminder not to postpone my truth. Too many people wait for the right time, the right approval, or the right conditions that never come. Ali did not live that way. He moved with urgency, but not panic. With intention, not anxiety.

This pushes me to speak while I have breath. To stand while I have strength. To love honestly while time allows it. If life really is that fleeting, then what I choose to do with my moments matters more than comfort ever could.

8. “All black Americans have slave names. They have white names; names that the slave master has given to them.”

This forces me to sit with the weight of identity in an uncomfortable but necessary way. Names are not neutral. They carry memory, ownership, and erasure. Ali understood that deeply. When he rejected his birth name, he was not rejecting his parents or his upbringing. He was rejecting a system that assigned identity without consent.

I see this as an act of psychological freedom. Answering to a name tied to ownership is not just about sound or tradition. It is about inheritance and power. Ali refused to carry that weight silently, and that refusal unsettled people because it exposed how normalized that history had become.

Even now, this still stirs discomfort because it goes to the root of who gets to define us. Who names you shapes how you see yourself. Who you answer to shapes how you move through the world. Ali chose himself, publicly and without apology.

What this reminds me is that liberation is not only external. It is internal. It lives in how we see ourselves and what we accept as truth. Naming yourself is an act of power, and Ali claimed that power fully.

9. “I had to prove you could be a new kind of black man. I had to show the world.”

When I read this, I feel the weight Ali carried. He knew he was never just representing himself. He was pushing against a narrow script written long before he arrived. He understood that visibility creates permission, whether he wanted that responsibility or not.

Ali showed the world a Black man who was loud, thoughtful, spiritual, defiant, compassionate, and unapologetic all at once. He refused to flatten himself to be accepted. Watching him made me realize that complexity itself can be a form of resistance.

For generations of us, Ali cracked the door open. He made room to exist beyond stereotypes that shrink us and box us in. He showed that confidence is not arrogance and that pride is not criminal. He allowed us to imagine ourselves more fully.

What lasts is not just what Ali achieved, but what he expanded. He widened the definition of Black manhood simply by being himself without apology. That kind of legacy does not fade. It keeps breathing through everyone who chooses to stand fully in who they are.

Muhammad Ali did not just speak to his time. He spoke for ours. His words remain relevant because the struggles they address never fully disappeared.

For Black Americans, Ali is not just a legend. He is a reminder of what it looks like to stand tall without permission.

Staff Writer; Jamar Jackson

This brother has a passion for fitness, poetry and music. One may contact him at; JJackson@ThyBlackMan.com.

James Nnaji is a 7-foot-tall, 21-year-old Nigerian whose basketball background has caused controversy in college basketball. He was chosen in the 2023 NBA Draft second round by the Detroit Pistons as an international player playing in Turkey but returned to Europe without a contract and without ever appearing in the NBA. Nnaji spent four years playing professionally in Europe before Detroit drafted him as an 18-year-old with the first pick of the second round in 2023. Since Nnaji never signed an NBA contract and never set foot on an NBA court as an official NBA player he was eligible to play college basketball and joined Baylor in December 2025 after enrolling.

Nnaji’s eligibility situation has more than opposing fans angry as longtime college basketball coaches such as John Calipari and Tom Izzo have publicly decried the process and rules that allowed Nnaji to be eligible to join college basketball in 2026. During a long post game rant last month, Calipari exclaimed, “Does anybody care what this is doing for 17- and 18-year-old American kids? Do you know what this opportunity has done for them and their families? There aren’t going to be any high school kids,” Calipari said after he coached Arkansas’ 103-74 win over James Madison. “Who other than dumb people like me are going to recruit high school kids? I get so much satisfaction out of coaching young kids and seeing them grow and make it — and their family and life changes — that I’m going to keep doing it. But why would anybody else, if you can get NBA players, G League players, guys that are 28 years old, guys from Europe? Do we really know their transcript? Do we have somebody over there? Do we really know their birth certificate or don’t we?”

Before Calipari’s rant regarding the eligibility situation around Nnaji, Tom Izzo publicly said, “If that’s what we’re going to, shame on the NCAA. Shame on the coaches, too. But shame on the NCAA because coaches are going to do what they’ve got to do, I guess. But the NCAA’s the one. Those people on those committees that are making those decisions to allow something so ridiculous and not think of the kid. Everybody talks about me thinking of my program or selfish. No. Get that straight, for all of you. I’m thinking of what is best for my son if he was in that position, and I just don’t agree with it.”

It has not been unusual in sports history for college football players to be former drafted Major League Baseball players who return to play college football at an advanced age like Heisman Trophy winner Chris Weinke in the year 2000. There are several European basketball players who have entered college basketball in recent seasons who played professionally overseas who have not gotten the attention of Nnaji, who was drafted by the NBA, but there is a case to be made that in some Euroleagues the competition is better than the G-League that Nnaji competed in before joining Baylor. His eligibility is getting undue negative attention.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines

At the center of this global spectacle are the players. Their labor, discipline, physical sacrifice, and talent form the foundation upon which the leagues are built. Yet the distribution of power within these organizations reveals a troubling imbalance. While players receive significant compensation during their careers, the true centers of long term wealth and decision making remain largely inaccessible to them.

Approximately 80 percent of NBA players and roughly 70 to 75 percent of NFL players are African American. Despite this demographic reality, ownership of teams and control of league governance remain overwhelmingly white. African Americans rarely occupy principal ownership positions, and when they do participate at the ownership level, it is often through minority stakes with limited influence. This raises a critical question that goes beyond salaries and contracts. Why do those who generate the value exercise so little control over the institutions they sustain?

Ownership, Access, and Structural Barriers

Professional sports ownership is not simply about having money. It is about access. Ownership groups are approved by existing owners, creating an internal system of validation that prioritizes familiarity, social alignment, and legacy over merit or contribution. This structure ensures continuity of power within a narrow class and makes upward mobility into ownership exceedingly difficult for outsiders, particularly former players.

Even African American athletes who accumulate substantial wealth face barriers that extend beyond financial thresholds. Ownership requires not only capital but acceptance into elite networks that have historically excluded Black participation. These networks often function through inherited relationships, corporate alliances, and long standing social trust that players are rarely positioned to access during or after their playing careers.

Players, by contrast, operate under short career windows. The average professional career lasts only a few years, during which athletes must maximize earnings while managing health risks and long term financial uncertainty. Ownership, however, offers stability, leverage, and generational wealth. It provides influence over league policies, labor negotiations, franchise valuations, and civic partnerships with cities and states.

This disparity reveals that compensation alone does not equate to fairness. High salaries do not compensate for the absence of ownership pathways. Labor without control remains labor, regardless of income level.

Labor, Risk, and the Illusion of Equality

Professional athletes bear extraordinary physical and psychological risks. Injuries, long term health consequences, and post career instability are common realities. While league revenues continue to grow, these risks are disproportionately absorbed by the players, not the owners. Guaranteed contracts and benefits offer partial protection, but they do not address the fundamental imbalance between labor and capital.

Owners profit whether teams win or lose. Franchise valuations continue to rise regardless of player turnover or performance. Media deals and revenue sharing insulate ownership from volatility. Players, on the other hand, are replaceable commodities within a system that emphasizes constant renewal and youth.

This dynamic creates the illusion of equality. The visibility of wealth among star athletes can obscure the deeper structural inequality that defines the system. Players appear empowered, yet they remain subject to rules, approvals, and limitations imposed by those who control the institutions.

Cultural Labor Beyond Sports

The dynamics present in professional sports mirror those found in other Black dominated cultural industries. Music, fashion, and entertainment all follow similar patterns. Black creativity fuels global demand, yet ownership of intellectual property, distribution infrastructure, and revenue channels often remains outside Black control.

Hip hop and R and B generate billions annually, influencing global language, fashion, and identity. Yet artists frequently enter contracts that strip them of ownership over their work. Masters, publishing rights, and catalogs are commonly owned by corporations that did not create the culture but profit from it indefinitely.

This recurring pattern reflects a broader economic reality. Black labor and innovation are welcomed, even celebrated, but Black ownership remains restricted. Cultural influence without economic sovereignty leaves communities vulnerable to extraction without reinvestment.

Economic Distance from Black Communities

A frequent point of discussion involves the limited reinvestment of athlete wealth into Black neighborhoods. While some players establish foundations, sponsor programs, or support educational initiatives, large scale economic reinvestment remains rare. This absence is often misinterpreted as personal neglect or indifference, when it is more accurately understood as the result of systemic pressures.

Once athletes enter elite economic spaces, their financial decisions are shaped by advisors, institutions, and risk frameworks that prioritize conventional investments. Real estate, equities, and partnerships are often directed toward established markets perceived as stable and secure. Investments in historically Black communities are frequently labeled risky or discouraged outright.

This guidance is not neutral. It reflects long standing assumptions about value, safety, and legitimacy. As a result, capital generated by Black labor often exits Black communities permanently, reinforcing cycles of underinvestment and economic stagnation.

This process is not accidental. It is structural. Wealth flows toward established power centers while communities that produced the talent remain economically marginalized.

The Political Economy of Consumption

African Americans collectively spend over two trillion dollars annually in the United States economy. This spending power rivals the gross domestic product of entire nations. Yet the majority of this capital circulates outside Black owned businesses and institutions.

Consumption alone does not create power. Ownership does. Without control over production, distribution, and policy, spending power benefits those who already possess economic leverage. This reality explains why cultural dominance has not translated into economic independence.

Political engagement further complicates the picture. African Americans vote at high rates and play decisive roles in elections. However, tangible policy outcomes that directly address Black economic development, ownership access, and wealth building remain limited. Symbolic representation often replaces structural reform.

This gap between participation and results fuels frustration. It reveals the limitations of influence without institutional control.

Media Narratives and Structural Silence

Mainstream media coverage of professional sports often reinforces existing power structures. Focus is placed on individual success stories rather than systemic analysis. Players are celebrated as role models while the institutions that profit from their labor escape scrutiny.

Discussions of ownership inequality are rare. Conversations about collective bargaining, revenue distribution, and post career outcomes receive limited attention. When athletes speak critically about these issues, they are often labeled ungrateful or divisive.

This framing protects the status quo. It shifts responsibility away from institutions and places the burden of success or failure solely on individuals.

Toward Structural Awareness

This analysis is not an indictment of sports, music, or individual achievement. Nor is it a rejection of opportunity. It is a call for structural awareness. True equity requires access to ownership, decision making authority, and long term economic participation.

Education alone is insufficient if pathways remain blocked. Wealth accumulation without ownership fails to alter power dynamics. Representation without control offers visibility without agency.

African Americans possess the talent, creativity, and economic capacity to shape institutions, not merely participate in them. The challenge lies in transforming labor into leverage and visibility into ownership.

This transformation requires collective strategy, financial literacy, institutional reform, and political will. It requires recognizing that participation is not the same as power.

The future of equity in professional sports and beyond depends on shifting the conversation from compensation to control. From income to infrastructure. From inclusion to ownership.

The challenge ahead is not talent.
It is control, coordination, and capital retention.

5. U.S.-Canada tension: There is and has been a lot of discussion in 2025 about the impact of the Trump administration raising tariffs on nearly all U.S. trading partners and how that would affect consumer goods and those prices for American citizens. That topic also veered into sports as Canadian sports fans voiced their displeasure with the U.S. during sporting events of NHL games and NBA games in Toronto by booing the American national anthem due to Trump’s imposition of tariffs on Canadian goods in early 2025.

4. Super Bowl Statement: The most surprising impromptu halftime action since the Justin Timberlake-Janet Jackson exposure several years ago had much more of a political message as performer Zül-Qarnaïn Nantambu surprisingly displayed a combination Sudanese-Palestinian flag with “Sudan” and “Gaza” written on it during Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime show. Regarding his actions, Nantambu said, “I hope God shifts Trump’s heart to be empathetic and compassionate to those who are suffering in Palestine and do what is right by the Palestinians. And if he can, help the Sudanese — which I’m sure he can.” During his protest, he stood on a car used as a prop for Lamar’s performance and held up the flag before being removed.

3. College Football’s Head Coaching Chaos for Black coaches: Despite most of the top college football players being African/Black, the numbers of African/Black head coaches in high profile positions is relatively low. HBCUs like Norfolk State and Delaware State hoped to replicate the Deion Sanders impact that the former Jackson State football head coach had for that program by hiring former NFL Pro Bowl players Michael Vick and Desean Jackson to their first major football head coaching opportunities. At the Power Five level, two of the most well-known Black football head coaches faced surprising exits from their respective schools as James Franklin and Sherrone Moore did not finish the year 2025 in the same position that they started 2025.

2. Sports betting alters the sports landscape on grand scale: Legal sports betting has increased the revenues and interest for professional and major college sports exponentially. Legal sports betting as also caused a variety of controversies in sports including in the NBA where Basketball Hall of Famer Chauncey Billups and current NBA player Terry Rozier were the big names of a 2025 FBI probe as they were involved in allegedly illegal activities. Time will tell of the future of sports betting and its overall effect on sports.

1. NBA’s link to the Congo: In 2025, the NBA unveiled a new award named for the late Dikembe Mutombo, a native of the Democratic Republic of the Congo and one of the most well-known humanitarians in recent NBA history. However, the NBA also has notable ties to Rwanda’s government, which has led to numerous human rights violations and violence to the people of the DRC. For a sports league known for being predominantly of athletes from the African diaspora, the NBA is under the microscope for its role in the unrest in the DRC.

Staff Writer; Mark Hines