We’ve talked before on Friendly Atheist about Tim Tebow‘s tempting eyes.

Seriously, who could resist this face? It makes me want to run out and get (re-) baptized.

But once Tebow graduated, the NCAA had to spoil everyone’s proselytizin’ fun by banning messages on eye black, or as it’s called in the official rulebook, “eye shade.”

So where does that leave Illini quarterback Nathan Scheelhaase, whose eye black is now in a cross shape?

Scheelhaase has begun wearing eye black in a cross shape. (Jonathan Daniel/Getty photo)

There are two aspects to this question. The first is what the NCAA rules actually allow. The second, which we’ve been asking ourselves for as long as public figures have been outspoken about religion, is what should be acceptable in a respectful, pluralistic society.

The first is easy enough to answer. Let me just flip open my copy of the 2011-2012 NCAA Football Rules and Interpretations (PDF) to Optional Equipment, Article 6, subsection e:

Eye Shade. Any shading under a player’s eyes must be solid black with no words, numbers, logos or other symbols.

Well, it sounds like Scheelhaase is in a bit of a technical grey area. His eye shade is, in fact, all black, and sports no words, numbers, logos or symbols upon it. It just happens to be in the shape of a cross. Which you may or may not consider a symbol. To me, this seems like a pretty obvious case of respecting the letter of the law while disobeying the spirit. Would the atheist scarlet letter logo garner the same respect? An upside down cross? A swastika? The same problem that existed with allowing white-on-black written messages exists in allowing players to create shapes with their eye black.

As for the second question, the line in a pluralistic society is probably “back thataway.” There’s something to be said for genuine dialogue, but Scheelhaase is using a bully pulpit of athletic recognition to push something totally unrelated and divisive. He wants viewers to take note that he’s not just a football player; he’s a Christian football player:

While he can’t reach an evangelical audience as wide as Broncos quarterback Tim Tebow, he still hopes his outspokenness about his Christian beliefs will make people at least consider his views.

“A lot of people watch my moves and watch my actions,” Scheelhaase said. “If I can plant seeds in people, that would be awesome.”

He says he supports open dialogue and talks about how he enjoys conversations with “teammates who worship differently than he does.” But he doesn’t really mean it.

His Twitter feed is filled with Bible verses, and he blocked one follower who asked him to “ease up” on voicing his faith.

Scheelhaase’s face-crosses are a pretty clear-cut violation of NCAA policy, and the restriction should be enforced as it would for any nonreligious symbol. But beyond that, it would be nice if the vociferously religious would quit trying to find ways to push the envelope and play the football game without attempting to push their Christian privilege.

(Thanks to Alex for the link!)

Robert Wilonsky, blogger for the Dallas Observer, reports that Westboro Baptist Church will protest the TicketCity Bowl in Dallas on January 2^nd.

Why that game in particular? Well, the participants are Penn State and the University of Houston:

You can probably figure out why The Most Hated Family in America is out to get the Lions: “Penn State is like all of the universities in doomed USA: full of proud, fornicating, brutish sinners, bowing down to college sports. That’s why Jerry Sandusky had full reign to rape little boys, under the noses of the likes of your hero Joe Paterno and his bosses.” As for the Cougars? “Houston, meanwhile elected a dyke for Mayor.”

Victim-blaming and homophobia: standard operating procedure for the WBC.

But they won’t go unopposed. Occupy Dallas is planning a counter-protest.

Westboro will also picket the AT&T Cotton Bowl Classic in Arlington on January 6^th (you know, since they’re already in the area…):

If you gave even a fraction of the time, money, or interest in serving God that you give to the players on the field, this country wouldn’t be in the mess it is in. We are coming in warning to this foolish evil generation.

Tough love, considering one of the teams in that game is from their home state of Kansas. There’s no protest planned for that one, to my knowledge, but I’m sure someone can start one…

If you see them at either protest, be sure to let us know how it goes. (And take pictures!)

Frank Deford at Sports Illustrated has an article up about the role of sports in holiday celebrations. “[S]ports are pretty agnostic when it comes to religion,” he says, and he has a point.

From Thanksgiving football to the five games the NBA has scheduled for Christmas Day this year (to begin their shortened season), sports are making inroads as yet another secular focus for traditionally religious holidays.

Image courtesy of shutterstock

Deford writes:

All that old-fashioned Currier and Ives/Norman Rockwell stuff — with the family gathered around the turkey and then the Christmas tree — is nice, but winter holidays are now primarily for gathering the family around whatever games are on television.

The occasional conflict occurs for observant athletes, as when Sandy Koufax famously sat out a World Series game on Yom Kippur or when Brigham Young University women’s rugby team said they wouldn’t be able to play for their sport’s championship because a vital postseason game was scheduled on a Sunday (a day of rest). But from the fan perspective, these games are one more way to celebrate that doesn’t involve sectarian beliefs. (Religious ones, at least. I can’t speak to any differences in college football loyalties.)

Is the shift a symptom of an increasingly secular culture or one of the causes for it?

I’m inclined to say it’s a bit of both, a feedback loop probably initiated by league bigwigs hoping to pull in more advertising money. And while I don’t exult in the stress placed on religious athletes who may have to choose between job and faith (even if I think said faith is silly), I’m all for more secular ways to celebrate the holidays.

Sports create narratives. Really appealing ones — underdog stories, hard-work parables, rags-to-riches daydreams. But ultimately, sports teams are run by businessmen, not writers, and athletes are people with jobs first and heroes second (if at all).

Fans of the St. Louis Cardinals got a painful reminder of exactly that last week, when superstar first baseman Albert Pujols took his talents to the Los Angeles Angels for a 10-year, $254 million deal.

Cardinals fans are understandably pretty upset, and the possessiveness that fandom can generate is leading to some nasty comments about Prince Albert. His wife, Deidre Pujols, took to the airwaves of a Christian radio station (that she and her husband had helped to finance) to tell her side of the story.

“The reason I say I was angry with the Lord is because I felt like when we were at our weakest — both the Cardinals and our family — making this decision, and it just couldn’t get finished and done, I was like, ‘this is when God is going to step in.’ And it didn’t happen. And then when the news broke on Thursday morning after we had made our decision, I don’t think we anticipated the tsunami that came our way.”

Apparently staying in St. Louis just wasn’t in the divine plan, but according to Pujols, “God put [them] on a team called the Angels.” When the sports narrative fails, appeal to the god narrative. It’s foolproof! Pujols also claimed that the devil was deceiving Cardinals fans in order to destroy her family:

“In your walk of life you better [know] who is the author of persuasion and who is the author of grace,” Pujols said. “Because if the devil can persuade, which he has done here by misinforming and lack of information, he knows that then he can kill…or try to destroy us.”

If the presence of a bunch of loudmouth jerks were evidence for the devil, the Wrigley Field bleachers would be Hell.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not defending obsessive or hostile fans. But currying sympathy by claiming that the devil is turning a fanbase against you just strikes me as over-the-top. In addition, by claiming “God’s will,” the Pujols’ abdicate responsibility for their decision, and not only that, they imply that the entire Cardinal Nation is in defiance of the Lord. Anyone smell bridges burning?

And they want you to love it too!

Jessica Hill/Associated Press (NYT)

The University of Connecticut has started saying the Pledge of Allegiance before the national anthem at its men’s basketball games. I think the Pledge is kind of creepy for a whole slate of reasons, including the fact that I can still be patriotic while choosing not to recite my unflinching loyalty in a glassy-eyed monotone. Some members of the UConn community agree:

Those who supported saying the pledge said it was unifying and reinforced American values. Those opposed said they objected to a public university urging people to say “under God” or felt it was gratuitous to ask people to pledge fealty to the United States at a sporting event. Some expressed concern that UConn athletes who are not American citizens could be put in an awkward position.

Oh,  yeah, the “under God” part, too.

Fortunately, they’re making it extremely clear that nobody is required to participate, and UConn’s two German players have stated that they’re comfortable with the recitation. Which is all well and good from a legal standpoint: the school is free to do it, and I’m free to opt out. But if you’ve ever remained seated through God Bless America at a sporting event, you know that the other attendees might have their own ideas about acceptable behavior.

Professor Douglas Laycock acknowledges in the article that, despite the god talk at a public university, the recitation would probably be judged perfectly legal. But a sporting event is supposed to be fun and pleasant, an excuse to engage in a little harmless tribalism. If faith and politics are too divisive for the dinner table, why foist them on people at a game?

On Monday morning, the Baseball Hall of Fame’s Veterans Committee confirmed what Chicago Cubs fans have known for a long time: Ron Santo, legendary third baseman, belongs in Cooperstown.

Ronnie was an elite player in his own era, despite a career cut short by juvenile diabetes (for which there were no reliable treatments at the time). But he cemented his place in Cubs fans’ hearts by returning to the organization, this time as a color commentator for WGN Radio’s game broadcasts. He lived and died with every pitch, his groans and cheers (mostly groans) echoing the sentiments of everyone tuning in. That’s how I got to know him, never having seen him play.

On December 3^rd, 2010, Ronnie died of complications from bladder cancer. He had also lost both his legs to diabetes, but had continued to make the climb up to the radio booth every day to broadcast. Huge crowds turned out to pay their respects.

Yesterday, almost exactly a year later, Ronnie was voted into the Hall of Fame. To know Ron Santo was to know how much this honor would have meant to him. He was passed over by the committee for years, but he was never bitter, and he understood how much he was loved. On the day the Cubs retired his #10 jersey, he declared to a packed house at Wrigley Field: “This is my Hall of Fame.” When asked, however, he stated explicitly that he did not want to be elected to the Hall posthumously. He wanted to be able to experience it himself, or he didn’t want it at all.

I saw a lot of sentimentality in my Twitter feed today. The most popular word was “bittersweet.” Few of the tweets were overtly religious, but most hoped that Ronnie, “wherever he is,” was satisfied, and could tell his fellow deceased veteran players to shove it. Most acknowledged disappointment that Ronnie could not revel in this moment, like this tweet by Sports Illustrated’s Jon Heyman:

To which a minor-league pitcher responded:

I found that decidedly off-putting for a couple of reasons. The first, and most immediate, is that regardless of what I actually think, I’m not going to step into a religious person’s emotionally charged situation and start correcting her in the name of comforting her. It’s arrogant and inappropriate. There’s a time and a place for debates like these. This isn’t it.

The second reason was that I hadn’t really decided, as someone who doesn’t believe in an afterlife, what I thought about Ronnie’s posthumous induction. Despite the warm thoughts and wishes of his many fans, Ronnie isn’t anywhere enjoying this. He’s dead. The Veterans Committee missed their chance to give him the recognition he longed for, and they haven’t made up for anything by inducting him now — in fact, they’ve flagrantly disrespected his stated wishes. Frankly, I’m a little pissed off.

Image by Tim Souers at Cubby-Blue.com

But is there a redeeming factor here for a nonbelieving fan? I’m glad for the Santo family that Ronnie is being honored, so that they can know that the rest of baseball shares their pride in him. I’m glad that future generations will know that he was a great player (and a great man, unlike some of his Hall-mates). But I think those things would have been true whether he was inducted or not. And I think the people who are getting the most comfort out of this, Veterans Committee included, are the people who choose to believe that Ronnie knows.