Mayar Zokaei [email protected]
It’s time for a history lesson.
This much you may know:
The year was 1947, and the Brooklyn Dodgers’ Jackie
Robinson was on his way to becoming a pioneer, the first black
player in the major leagues.
This much you probably don’t:
The year was 1947, and Wat Misaka was on his way to becoming a
pioneer, the first Japanese player in the NBA.
As much as we have always embraced sports in the context of
black and white, it’s important to note that the reality is a
far, more colorful cry from our notions.
You’re probably familiar with the sight of Michelle Greco
sinking a three-pointer.
But did you see that diminutive, Japanese women’s
basketball player slicing her way through the forest of trees and
swish that jump shot?
It might be normal for you to observe DeShaun Foster picking up
20 yards on a carry.
But were you looking long enough to catch a glimpse of that
powerful, Iraqi linebacker lay his foe on his back with that
thunderous tackle?
If you were asked to conjure a cerebral picture of the
stereotypical athlete from any of the two-dozen sports teams at
UCLA, I’d bet you wouldn’t see what I see.
You might see Greco, but did you overlook Natalie Nakase? I know
who counted Foster’s carries, but did you defer Audie
Attar?
From glorified pioneers in professional sports to their less
glossy cohorts in the college ranks, minorities are making strides
in athletics.
Sometimes, though, our eyes don’t always get to see
that.
Stigmas are what hold us back, but role models that have been in
the same position as us are what catapult us to strive and reach
new pinnacles. But it’s hard when the one that’s
supposed to inspire you to do something is buried as a footnote in
NBA lore, or hidden in an enigma that is the NFL media.
Nakase, who is of Japanese descent, probably does know of
Misaka. Two years ago, an exhibition in reverence of Japanese
professional athletes was held in Los Angeles, and it warranted
media attention that actually enlightened many Japanese athletes
that had no idea of the accomplishments of the forefathers.
But what about Attar or other athletes of Middle Eastern
descent? Do they know of Shar Pourdanesh, an Iranian football
player from Irvine, who became the first player of Middle Eastern
background to play in the NFL?
If I hadn’t had the opportunity to go to UCLA, chances are
I might have never seen an Asian play college basketball, a Middle
Easterner excel in football, or a Hispanic dominate in water polo
(i.e., Stanford’s Brenda Villa).
But others aren’t afforded the same opportunities as me.
Our city is a diverse, cultural melting pot, and with 35,323
students strong (according to the school web directory), UCLA
embodies that.
What about that sophomore in Utah? Or the junior at
Colorado?
The proverbial ax can come down on the media. If any entity is
to blame, it’s us.
Every newspaper article written today should come with the
caveat, “contents of these articles may not necessarily
represent all the people who actually read it.”
What is the biggest regret of Misaka, Pourdanesh and other
minorities that have succeeded in fields no one like them has? That
others don’t get the chance to see.
None of these athletes, with the exception of Robinson, have
been recognized by American sports hall of fames for their
achievements. And only a minute percentage, like Misaka and
Pourdanesh, have been acknowledged by the media.
But there is a disparity between mere athletic accomplishments
being overlooked and an illustrious, athletic career and
simultaneous, bona fide, real-life heroism being forgotten by a
respectable institution.
One such victim? Francis Wai, a four-sport, Chinese-American
collegiate athlete in 1939-1940. It’s quite possible that Wai
could have done for Asian-Americans in baseball what Robinson did
for African-Americans. But he never got the chance, being called to
duty for the National Guard and serving under the General MacArthur
led 34th infantry regiment of the 24th infantry division. He died
in battle in 1944.
Oh, and one more thing: he accomplished all this while a student
at UCLA, a fact my colleague Diamond Leung enlightened me on just
yesterday, which no one in my time at UCLA has ever publicly
acknowledged.
So, go ahead, enjoy what’s in front of you the next time
you watch an athletic contest. Just make sure you open your eyes,
because history might just be slipping by.