If the national anthem is good enough to be played before shows and birthday parties, it certainly needs to remain part of the professional sporting experience.
The Dallas Mavericks players and team stand during the national anthem before the first half of an NBA basketball game against the Atlanta Hawks in Dallas, Wednesday, February 10, 2021. (AP Photo / Tony Gutierrez)
I really miss going to the shows. This has been one of the most difficult parts of life in the pandemic – not being able to attend a live show and personally experiencing the visceral reaction that comes from a renowned guitarist totally melting your face.
I bought a live broadcast of a show a few months ago, and it didn’t work for me, mainly because the artist’s feed went through some technical problems that shut down everything for 10 or 15 minutes.
But do you know what I miss most about not going to the shows? The deeply patriotic emotion of all candidates for the national anthem.
I can’t even describe to you how much my heart would swell when I heard “The Star-Spangled Banner” fill the concert hall, just before the Behemoth band’s sonic and chaotic performance against the laws of religious fundamentalism in Poland.
I have all the sensations now.
I can only express my gratitude for covering Utah Jazz, which allowed fans in the building for all games and, fortunately, continued to have the anthem played before the game every time. Can you imagine if I were in Dallas? Covering the socialist Mavericks of that Mark Cuban charlatan? On Wednesday, the NBA had to issue an official notice to force them to start playing the anthem again before the game, because they were jumping.
If I had to endure the indignity of covering a sporting and entertainment event that happened without a presentation of the national anthem that precedes it, how could I at least focus?
Worldwide knows that guys running in sleeveless T-shirts and shorts and putting a ball in the hoop are not the same if, beforehand, fans have not had the chance to solemnly honor this country by whistling and whistling at the singer’s deliberate pause after the words wave ”or grabbing a few chicken fingers at a restaurant in the lobby while it’s running.
God bless you, Adam Silver, for maintaining this sacred and extremely relevant tradition.
Without it, I would be limited to just listening to “The Star-Spangled Banner” played on video screens at gas stations, or sung by the DoorDash delivery man while he leaves a chicken masala tikka on my porch. Oh – I almost forgot – also just before each episode of “The Mandalorian” starts on my Disney + app.
God knows that this pandemic is the worst way to stop me from getting my full patriotic dose in all the old and typical places.
As in the cinema, for example.
As the snowflake that I am, I will embarrassingly admit that I am not yet ready to spend three hours in a small, closed place with random strangers. Which is unfortunate, because there is nothing like watching the cinematic action unfold on the big screen … right after each cinephile represents the anthem.
Believe me when I say that there are not enough words in my lexicon to impress you how much I look forward to the day when I can take my big old tube of buttered popcorn to a dark cinema to watch “Avengers 7 – Gender Wars: Dazzler and Elsa Bloodstone vs. Urthona and Manifold. “
Partly because this film will be [expletive] epic, but even more because my soul feels empty now for losing the tradition of sitting in eight trailers … turn on the lights, get up, put my hand on my heart and sing along with the performance of the hymn in sweet, sweet surround sound Dolby Digital … then settling in the dark to present the feature.
Not seeing my co-workers was also difficult.
The editors of the Salt Lake Tribune made the decision, in the early days of the pandemic outbreak, to insist that everyone work from home for safety reasons. Since then, they have loosened their restrictions somewhat, although there may still be no more than six people in the office at the same time.
Anyone who has ever enjoyed their work can appreciate the camaraderie that comes from personal interactions with their business friends, not to mention the daily 10 am ritual with alternate employees singing the hymn.
You didn’t live until you heard the 14-syllable version of film critic Sean Means from that opening “O”. Dude, how I envy those of you in your offices who participate in this everyday.
I hope, however, that someday soon I will once again be able to start traveling to other arenas and hear even more hymns played as a result of decree, decree and mandate from the commissioner.
It’s getting harder and harder to justify spending so much time at the supermarket just to hear the butcher’s lovely interpretation on the store’s speakers every hour.