Staff Reports
In a world where national anthems are supposed to unite us, one singing event tried to push some buttons, and boy, did it hit the “not interested” crowd like a bad dad joke at Thanksgiving dinner. Imagine a big game, the kind that makes folks put on their jerseys and paint their faces. The spotlight is bright, the crowd is buzzing with excitement, and then—bam!—it’s time for the Black national anthem. Cue crickets. Seriously, folks, it felt like showing up to a party and realizing you’re the only one who brought chips and guac.
Now, let’s be real. Singing any anthem is supposed to fill the air with pride and patriotism, but as the song floated over the stadium, you could practically hear a pin drop. NBC, the beloved network that will somehow find a way to make a cupcake competition dramatic, zoomed in on the audience. And instead of joining in on the solemn moment, what did the cameras catch? A sea of people who looked more confused than a cat at a dog show. Hands were casually shoved in pockets like, “I’m just here for the nachos.”
But here’s the real kicker—what’s the accepted etiquette here? If you’re white, do you just stand there, hand over heart, feeling like you were asked to do the chicken dance at a wedding? That’s a pressure cooker of awkwardness right there. Maybe some folks were just trying to figure out whether to clap or look somber, like a game of “Do I Stay or Do I Go?” It’s a strange ritual when everyone can’t quite agree on how to respond.
The singer had talent, that’s unquestionable. Her voice could melt ice caps on Pluto, but in those moments, it felt like she was belting out a solo in a room full of people who just wanted to order wings. If you thought the responses would unify the crowd, think again! Many were left shaking their heads, mumbling about “woke” politics and “why not just stick to the good ol’ red, white, and blue?” It can leave one scratching their head—like, is America ready for a remix to its soundtrack? Or is the only tune allowed the one from that famous baseball game?
Before you blame anyone for the tension, it’s worth noting that the whole ordeal just adds to what some folks are calling “black fatigue.” It’s that feeling when you’ve been overloaded with messages about race, culture, and everything in between—like getting served broccoli cake at a birthday party. Surprise! Now, is that cake supposed to taste like joy or remain wrapped in layers of political correctness? If a national anthem is meant to bring everyone together, maybe we should just stick to the one that most of us have memorized—and hope for a less awkward encore next time. After all, isn’t that what sports and Americana are all about?
