The Super Bowl And Jesse Jackson
Commentary by Phil Valentine  /  February 1, 2000

After a week of sounding pitiful each afternoon on the radio, a listener finally called in during our special Saturday broadcast from the NFL Experience in Atlanta with one ticket to the Super Bowl. I had never been to a Super Bowl and spent the next 24 hours in eager anticipation of the big event to come. After watching the pre-game shows all day, I threw on my overcoat and headed into town toward the Georgia Dome. I arrived at around 4PM and the traffic was horrendous. I spotted a parking attendant right across the street from the stadium and asked him how much it cost to park. $30. $30? Just to park? But I thought, what the heck. I've got a free ticket to the Super Bowl, for crying out loud. What's thirty bucks? I parked, locked up, pulled the collar of my overcoat up around my ears and walked across the parking lot to the street. As I crossed, I found myself in the middle of a protest. It was Jesse Jackson's protest against the Confederate flag in the Georgia State flag. Until that very moment, I had completely forgotten about the protest and Jesse's suggested boycott of the Super Bowl. A couple of dozen protesters peacefully marched in a circle singing a protest song and carrying placards on a cold and dreary day. There were several camera crews around but no Jesse. I looked around to see if he was possibly nearby giving an interview but he was nowhere to be found.

Understand, I am not completely unsympathetic to their cause. Although I was born and raised in the South, I understand what the Confederate flag means to many black people. I understand their desire to see it removed from the state house in South Carolina and the flag of Georgia. I believe there are better, more constructive ways for us to celebrate our Southern heritage that don't include that symbol. I also understand Jesse Jackson. Like in Decatur, Illinois, he seeks out ways to perpetuate his usefulness. Instead of picking and choosing his causes carefully, he jumps at any opportunity to promote himself and thrust his face in front of the cameras in the name of saving his 'people.' As one black listener of mine pointed out, he didn't recall ever electing Jesse Jackson to anything. He vowed to give him full consideration at the next "leader of the black people election." The whole Super Bowl protest begged the questions - Why here? Why now?

Flash forward a couple of hours. It turns out that the ticket I was given was in the club section. Front row, no less. This is the section with the carved prime rib and the private band. I couldn't believe my luck. The governor of Tennessee was in my section. Several other celebrities as well. Ironically, this ticket had come to me, in a round about way, from the Democratic National Committee! (That's a story for another column) If anyone ever wondered if God has a sense of humor there's no doubt about it now. There I was, a conservative talk show host, sitting next to a lobbyist and former DNC official along with a whole row of fine folks from the party. I should also add that they couldn't have been nicer. As I mingled through the crowd before the game enjoying the band and the atmosphere, I decided to step out in the hallway leading to my seat and just watch the people go by. I had already run into a half dozen people I knew and figured I may see more making their way to their seats. I had no sooner staked out a place to stand when guess who came walking by? That's right, Jesse Jackson and his entourage. I was instantly enraged. While those dedicated ideologues and Jesseittes braved the harsh elements outside, Jesse Jackson himself was being escorted to his warm, comfortable seat in the club section. While he preached the evils of the Confederate flag, the injustice of it being included in the Georgia flag and the necessity of showing that disdain through protest and boycott, he was not going to deprive himself of the pleasure and excitement of the biggest event in sports. I had, no doubt, come face-to-face with hypocrisy. And it made me ill. This was the same Jesse Jackson who once told me in an interview when I worked in Philadelphia that the graffiti which marred the buildings and signs of the inner city was the "hieroglyphics of oppression." This was the same Jesse Jackson who stood up for thugs and gang members in Decatur calling them "misguided youth." This was the same Jesse Jackson who constantly makes excuses for the inexcusable. I wonder what his excuse for betraying his followers for the cozy confines of the Georgia Dome will be?