At one point earlier this season, some of the ghosts of Philly Black quarterbacking past visited to let Jalen Hurts know they had his back. Michael Vick and Donovan McNabb met up with Hurts on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art for a conversation moderated on ESPN by Robert Griffin III, himself a one-time groundbreaking Black quarterback.
The Eagles have long led the way when it comes to playing Black quarterbacks, though that was never without backlash. True pioneer Randall Cunningham, a flashy scrambler in the highly regimented 1980s league, took to wearing a cap reading “Let Me Be Me” when the critics loudly complained of his improvisational and inscrutable ways.
Like Cunningham, McNabb and Vick felt the sting of integrating a largely White category — they heard the announcers call their White counterparts “heady” and were keenly aware of all the references to their “natural athletic ability,” as if they’d emerged from the womb with the ability to play the most demanding and cerebral position in sports.
“They want to assume everything about you,” McNabb said of his overwhelmingly White critics. “And when you don’t look like them, you don’t sound like them, or you don’t play like them, there’s nothing good that you can say positive about them.”
“People don’t like to be woken up,” Hurts observed.
For his part, Vick acknowledged that he was part of changing the game by remaking the way the quarterback position was played — in your face, at a blinding pace that had not yet been seen, an ad-lib style that threatened the establishment. “Now, it’s like, White, Black, indifferent,” he said.
“You just being you,” Hurts said.
“You just be you,” Vick said. “And you can get it done. You got a job.”
Playing off racial stereotypes
Fast forward to this record-breaking season, on the eve of leading his team to the NFC Championship Game — one win from the Super Bowl. It’s clear that, like his mentors, Hurts has heard his doubters through the years, too, using their questioning of his talents as fuel. But, perhaps thanks to the advances made by those predecessors who joined him at the Art Museum, strikingly few of the criticisms of Hurts have seemed to play off racial stereotypes.
This isn’t to say that racism is dead in the NFL — far from it. It’s been there from the invention of the league in 1920 to the repudiation of Colin Kaepernick in 2017. Yes, despite the slogans on the backs of helmets, and the large (and largely publicized) donations to social justice causes, the NFL — especially when compared to the NBA — still struggles with matters of race, particularly when it comes to diversity in coaching hires, front office personnel, and team ownership.
“They want to assume everything about you,” McNabb said of his overwhelmingly White critics. “And when you don’t look like them, you don’t sound like them, or you don’t play like them, there’s nothing good that you can say positive about them.”
Today, 70 percent of the league’s players are African American. And yet, the league only last year banned the use of race norming, a practice that assumed a lower baseline of cognitive abilities for Black players — and, according to estimates, prevented hundreds of retired Black players from getting compensated for dementia resulting from football-induced head injuries.
Also, there’s virtually no Black representation among NFL leadership. Out of 32 teams, not one majority owner is Black or Brown. The NFL currently has three — 3 — Black head coaches.
But on the field of play, Jalen Hurts’ breathtaking creativity has been accepted, even celebrated. He is praised for his poise and leadership. Might Jalen Hurts represent — finally! — not only the acceptance of a Black quarterback, but the transcendence of race in the discussion around the position?
Of course, Hurts has had his detractors. Two-and-a-half years ago, NBC Sports’ Dave Zangaro referred to the newly drafted Hurts as a “stupid pick.” Sports pundits on Bleeding Green and WIP, fans on Twitter and Reddit, even fans who were no fans of incumbent quarterback Carson Wentz, were there to resoundingly agree. But those critics — now so disproven— weren’t calling Hurts stupid. Their ire was aimed at Eagles GM Howie Roseman for drafting a quarterback — any quarterback — with a second-round pick, when the team had already invested so much in Wentz, ostensibly a franchise quarterback.
There were questions about Hurts’ talents. He had been benched in college by Alabama Coach Nick Saban in the national championship game, but none of the doubts about him had to do with character or intelligence. The rap on Hurts revolved around whether his arm was strong enough for the NFL, questions he has now affirmatively answered.
“In my 32 years of experience, I’ve seen the NFL and its fanbase evolve in ways I didn’t think was possible,” says Marcus Hayes, longtime Daily News and Inquirer sports reporter. “There may be some undercurrent of racism in judging Black QBs to this day; however, I think by and large that most Black QBs are judged by their abilities on the field and their potential when they are acquired.”
Bearing the historic burden of his race
Hurts’ numbers don’t lie. We’re watching a legitimate league MVP. During the regular season, he has rushed for 747 yards (13 rushing touchdowns), passed for 3,472 yards, and thrown 22 TDs with only five interceptions. He’s the third-ever quarterback to complete 150 rushing yards, paralleling Hall of Fame running back Walter Payton. Hurts is also the first Eagles QB to rush for 85 yards in consecutive games — and the eighth QB in the entire league since 1970 to do so. And this is only the tip of the Hurts iceberg
All of it has been accomplished while bearing the historic burden of quarterbacking while Black. Not only do quarterbacks lead and motivate their entire team, they also represent an all-American ideal of leadership and patriotism. Combine that with a team based in Philadelphia with a bald eagle for a mascot … Yeah, it doesn’t get more American than the Eagles. And our patriotic team has proudly broken the mold with its litany of Black QBs: Cunningham (1985-95), Rodney Peete (1995-98), McNabb (1999-2009), Vick (2009-13), Vince Young (2011) and, now, Hurts.
“In my 32 years of experience, I’ve seen the NFL and its fanbase evolve in ways I didn’t think was possible,” says Marcus Hayes. “There may be some undercurrent of racism in judging Black QBs to this day; however, I think by and large that most Black QBs are judged by their abilities on the field and their potential when they are acquired.”
In Cunningham’s prime, he became an innovator of that out-of-pocket dual-threat style of play. But, back then, number 12 received more than his share of criticism from commentators and NFL fans who claimed Cunningham couldn’t possibly throw and run with the ball. Also, after he’d been named NFL MVP, he was too “full of himself.” (He was even rebuked when he deigned to miss a game in order to be at the birth of his child.)
In his book, A Hard Road to Glory: A History of the African-American Athlete, tennis great Arthur Ashe observed that, when finally given a chance, Black athletes tend to remake their sports by bringing an aggressiveness to bear in otherwise overlooked statistical categories. What Lou Brock did for the stolen base, Julius Erving did for the dunk: Made it into a weapon of intimidation. Cunningham and a handful of others did the same for quarterback play, by passing and running, keeping defenses off-balance, always reacting.
That phenomenon continues to delineate by race. A 2020 study revealed that the average White QB who logged a minimum of 100 plays ran 6.7 percent of the time, while the average Black QB ran 11.3 percent.
Being a Black quarterback has always raised questions not just about athletic performance, but also what it means to be a Black leader. McNabb used to get criticized for smiling if his team was losing. Yes, he was called out for displaying joyousness. There is still sensitive territory to navigate. Being a Black quarterback now means far more opportunity than it did decades ago, but it also means you remain within a realm that exercises the forgiveness of Jerry Jones and the condemnation of Colin Kaepernick.
“You just be you,” Vick said. “And you can get it done. You got a job.”
Into this milieu steps Hurts, a coach’s son, who pays respect to his elders like McNabb and Vick, and who peppers his public comments with talk about “character” and “preparation.” To Hurts, as Vick observed, those are neither White or Black values; they’re universal values. They’re the values of winning football.
It’s telling that, when the Inquirer released a poll ranking the most popular Philly athletes, there was Hurts at number three, right behind Bryce Harper (who just led his team to the World Series!), and almost tied with his teammate, Jason Kelce. There is, perhaps, no bigger Hurts fan within the Eagles locker room than Kelce, hero to working-class Philly. And that’s because game recognizes game; they may come from vastly different backgrounds, but there’s no daylight between the values of Hurts and his center.
Jalen Hurts will always be a Black man in Philadelphia, which carries its own stresses and traumas. On the field, though, unlike his predecessors, he is more unburdened and free to fly.
