Politics has seeped into every corner of sports. As a generation of pro athletes is discovering, politics is often complicated

Open this photo in gallery:

This week, Draymond Green tried in real time to build a logical scaffolding strong enough to support a teammate’s anti-vaccine stance.

The teammate – Canadian Andrew Wiggins – tried to do it for himself, but ended up buried in a pile of steel beams. Wiggins is not vaccinated. In order to play home games in California for the Golden State Warriors, he must be. He tried to get a religious exemption (despite an unwillingness to publicly explain his religious objection) and failed. Now it’s a battle of wills.

Green is one of the most thoughtful guys playing in a thoughtful league. But his thoughtfulness didn’t help him much here.

As per the usual script, it came down to an argument about individual freedom and the sanctity of choice.

“That would be like me telling him, ‘Yo, your wife is going into labour. How dare you leave this team and go tend to your wife,’” Green said.

Uh, all right. I’m not … what’s his wife got to do with … okay, never mind.

This has become characteristic of all arguments between people on opposite sides of the vaccine divide. It starts out apples and oranges, and becomes one guy trying to hand the other a pineapple.

Warriors’ Andrew Wiggins’ vaccination exemption request denied by the NBA

Green was smart enough to understand how little headway he was making. So he ended like this: “I think it’s become very political.”

Yes, politics will do that.

With three weeks to go until opening night, the NBA’s player-vaccination rate stands at 95 per cent. The Toronto Raptors said this week they are one second shot away from total vaccination.

Unless you’ve got a job at Consolidated Syringe Manufacturers LLC, that’s probably a better rate than your work place.

The NBA’s managed this among a cohort of people who should be the least vaccine compliant – young, rich, remarkably fit, leery of anything that might diminish them physically, even for a short time, and American. Ninety-five per cent is a triumph of labour/management co-operation and public-health awareness.

But it’s become a story about the other five per cent. In particular, a couple of ding-dongs who think God’s plan is that we all take our chances, or that Big Tech wants to surveil you via microchip (something it already does via the tracking device that is never more than five feet from your grasp).

This has led to a generalized irritation among the vaccinated players, few of whom want to hold their colleagues to the same standard they apply to themselves. It’s an understandable impulse. Here, let me hand you a microphone. Now, why did you get Medical Procedure X or take Drug Y? Most of us would agree the correct answer is, “None of your business.”

But this has become politics, and sports recently declared itself a political free-fire zone. This is what happens when everything isn’t just up for debate, but must be debated.

Today’s players have no experience of what sports was in the 1990s. It must seem an arid place to them – cynical, brazenly capitalistic, detached from the wider world. Charles Barkley wrapped an entire Nike ad campaign around refusing to be a role model to children.

Imagine a player being asked today about this or that ongoing social ill and saying, “None of my business.” You cannot.

After 9/11, like most of the culture, sports drifted toward jingoism. Flags unfurled during the anthem, fighter jets overhead, politicians squeezing themselves into team jerseys.

That drift became an ooze. Politics began seeping into every corner of our most popular games, prompting athletes to pick sides. That emboldened a few to speak up, and the rest to robotically repeat the most popular talking points. A combo of the means (social media) and the cause (the summer of 2020) put that tendency on turbo.

Every pro is now a spokesperson for some corner of the culture war. Non-participation is not an option. As in all wars, conscientious objectors will not be tolerated. You don’t want to take a knee in the pregame? Then that must mean you’re one of them.

The NBA took the boldest stands, which now means the bulk of the ongoing political work falls on it. And while the players were anxious to talk about race and social justice, they are not so keen to talk about their private choices as regards public health.

But the Great Hive Mind is not discerning. It doesn’t understand how you could be so right on some things (as long as you agree with it) and so wrong about others (because you now disagree). After bravely speaking your truth, suddenly putting up a “Privacy, Please” sign only enrages both sides of the argument.

While the NBA is dealing with the consequences of entering the political fighting pit, the NHL is doing its usual – saying nothing and hoping no one notices.

The NHL is the oatmeal of the four major sporting food groups – mushy and tasteless. Like Charles Barkley back in the day, but not interesting.

By virtue of overwhelming blandness, the NHL has largely avoided the health-and-safety debate. The league has suggested 98 per cent of its players will be vaxxed by opening night. As the Toronto Maple Leafs won’t tell you, the best defence is a good offence.

That defensive posture is now under attack by the Olympics.

This week, China announced that everyone going to Beijing 2022 has one of two choices – be fully vaxxed or undergo a totally isolated 21-day, in situ quarantine before participating.

That’s a lot further than any global sports league has been willing to go. If everyone’s favourite player suddenly discovers that he has a pressing family engagement a week into the Winter Olympics and, gosh, just can’t make it over there, even though he’d do anything to represent the flag, but, y’know, he promised grandma and pop-pop that he’d be there, then you’ll know what’s going on.

All of a sudden, the gears of the Outrage Machine will begin clicking and whirring and chewing up the news cycle. It’s not about the 99 guys who will, but the one guy who won’t.

What is he thinking? Doesn’t he care? Which side is he on (don’t bother answering – we already know)?

What should the powers that be do? Why isn’t he talking? What’s he hiding?

It’s complicated. As a generation of pro athletes is beginning to discover, politics often is.