Choctaw ball players
OK, I can’t
stand it anymore. I have to jump into this moronic dialogue about the
Washington Redskins.
OK, so I may
sound a little perturbed and impatient. I am.
Our country has become a pathetic, moaning mass of sympathy seekers. We live in an age when attention-seeking groups, and usually just
attention seeking individuals, demand fairness or consideration in the name of
some formerly persecuted minority group. And more often than not, they get
carried away until serious authorities actually respond the way they want…
regardless of the truth or the cost, or what is right.
I am fed up
with all the nonsense. The present controversy, really just a silly objection,
over the name “Redskins,” proves that we are a society that has lost its mind
and one which allows anyone to rewrite our social guidelines. Anyone. Any insignificant, ignorant malcontent with a
persecution complex who has learned that this society is predisposed to listen
and care about the most contrived causes, can put a whole professional sports
organization on the whipping post.
The supposed
purging of bigotry in America has birthed a jihad even more egregious than
racial prejudice. It is a sort of intellectual terrorism, where accusations are
hurled like Molotov cocktails at anyone perceived vulnerable. Somehow, even
though a preponderance of Native Americans insist they are not offended by the
term “redskin,” the United States Government is taking punitive action towards
the Washington Redskins, all because of their name. The problem with the
plaintiffs, and the problem with the morons in the government, is they know
nothing about the term redskin. They are ignorant of the history. Americans of every ethnic group should be ashamed of their ignorance of of our history. Their history. And this is a major example.
Redskin is a Native American term. More accurately, it is a
translation of (and here’s the irony) a Native American SPORTS team. Granted “redskin”
was probably not a word any tribe used before the white man came, because they
did not speak English. But the Cherokee, Natchez, Chickasaw, Seminole, Creek, Sioux, Choctaw
and probably many other nations were passionate ball players… probably more
passionate about playing chunkey than Americans today are about football, and they
basically divided the teams according to… skin color.
There were
the red skins and the white skins. From ancient times the Native Americans, at
least those in the so-called “Five Civilized Tribes” and others who met them on
the ball field, recognized that some tribes were darker than others, or redder,
and others lighter, or white. Players often painted themselves so as to be more
red or white, if there was any doubt. Since everybody played naked, it was
handy that there were sort of built-in uniforms. Many, perhaps millions of
proud warriors played chunkey under the name “red skin.”
Chunkey was
the Native American predecessor to lacrosse. Dozens of red skin and white skin players
used long rackets with rawhide baskets on the end to sling a round stone disc,
often knocking some guy’s lights out. It was a tough game. It was in fact a good
substitute for real aggression between neighboring tribes.
It turns out
that there were whole “red” tribes and “white” tribes; “Red” towns and “white” towns.
It turns out that red tribes were considered hawkish, or warlike, and whites
were peaceful. There were “red” chiefs and “white” chiefs. War councils only
went to war after both agreed. There has never been a society more defined or governed
by red and white than many Native American tribes.
And yet today
a few Native Americans are offended at the name Redskin. But the Red Man has
called himself red man, or red skin for a long time. Apparently no one else has
the right to call him, or anyone by that designation, even if it is to bring
honor, no matter how inadequate, to his race.
I could go
on… But actually, Redskin is much closer to what the Native Americans called themselves...
at least some of them, than “Indian” or Native American.” And it conjures up
images of proud warriors proving their valor on the field. I have no use for
professional football, but I always thought it would be cool to be up in the
stands at a Washington game, in the Capital of our country, waving the tomahawk chop. For one single,
silly moment we are all Redskins, warriors, facing our enemies. But now that
might change forever.
Our whole country
must prove it is caring and sensitive, no matter how ridiculous the complaint.
Some Native American does not even know or appreciate his own heritage, and yet
we all must bend to his pathetic provincialism. So the pundits throw the
redskins to the wolves.
All so some
moron won’t have his ignorant feelings hurt. I will save one last tomahawk chop
for him.
