BY MARK CHIN

In print | Published April 29, 2010

One of the items on the application for The Phoenix asks the applicant what ideas he or she might have for the position for which he or she is applying. For an individual applying for a columnist position, this might entail a description of the goals the applicant might have in writing the column, or perhaps the material he or she wishes to cover in the column.

When I first applied for the columnist position last semester, I remember writing something vague and cheesy about wanting to share my passion and love for sports with others on campus, even those who weren’t that interested in sports. I also remember writing something along the lines of wanting to provide perspectives on sports at a professional level that I felt wasn’t as prevalent in the journalism on campus at the time. Now it’s all fine and dandy to have great ideals when starting as a columnist, but I believe the columnists that you read every Thursday do deviate from their initial goals every once in a while. And The Phoenix, as far as I know, is okay with that (especially the sports section, considering the seemingly perpetual shortage of writers).

But that’s not to say that the writer’s voice doesn’t matter. It matters a great deal more than one would expect — more than I expected after having written my column for nearly two semesters. I’ve followed my initial goals as best as I could, and never considered the idea that the two goals I had could have been working against one another the entire time. People who aren’t as interested in sports won’t necessarily understand all the jargon I use to describe circumstances of professional sports, and people who are interested in the technical, nitty gritty statistics I love to pepper my columns with don’t necessarily care for my musings on broader connections between the sports world and the more general population. I suffered from what you might call a confused identity in my voice as a writer, and I hope that all this confusion hasn’t lead to an inferior product (SUBTLE SEGUE!).

The same thing can be said about teams in professional sports. A strong identity can be a powerful tool for any team; the members of the roster feel united under a common goal, are strengthened knowing that they can excel in one particular area, and are upfront about their weaknesses and strengths.

The importance of having an identity isn’t measurable in how many games it wins a team. You can’t put a value on it like you can on the number of TDs a football player scores, the WAR of a baseball ace, or the plus/minus of an NBA star. Identity isn’t an individual metric. It’s an idea represented by an entire team.

The recent successes of many professional sports teams can be attributed (at least somewhat) to the establishment of a strong team identity. The 2008 Tampa Rays reached the World Series in baseball for the first time behind a roster that was built on youth, improved defense (one of the best in the league for the season), pitching and small ball (they led the AL in stolen bases). The Rays weren’t flashy in that they hit tons of home runs, or struck many batters out —but they did do all the little things right. They knew their strengths (youth and speed) and didn’t try to outplay other teams through what they couldn’t do (like outbid the Yankees for powerful free agents).*

*I do want to note that my friend attributes the Rays’ amazing turn around (an improvement of 31 wins) solely on the fact that they appeased God by changing their name that offseason from the Tampa Bay Devil Rays to just the Rays.

Football teams that have established identities have also experienced incredible success as well. The Minnesota Vikings of the 1970s (The Purple People Eaters) played in four Super Bowls behind an emphasis on a blistering defensive line. This emphasis on defense was more recently replicated by the Steelers, who won two Superbowls this past decade behind the defensive schemes of the innovative Dick LeBeau.

That’s not to say all identities that professional sports teams assume are good. The Detroit Lions assumed the identity of drafting wide receivers in the first round for a few years this decade and I daresay those choices didn’t lead them very far. The Portland “Jailblazers” era also comes in mind when thinking of established identities that didn’t necessarily result in positive outcomes (something seems wrong to me when a basketball team is known for its players’ animal abuse and drug possession). Also, a team’s lack of success can be attributed to a lack or loss of identity. After winning the 2007 Super Bowl behind an identity founded on stringent defense and a tough, road warrior mentality, the New York Giants faltered in 2009 because they lost their defensive firepower. The team went 8-8 and missed the playoffs behind a defense that allowed the third most points per game (26.7) for the season. A similar situation occurred for the 2009 Celtics. After winning the 2008 NBA finals bolstered by an emphasis on team play and defense, last season’s team faltered in the playoffs. The team’s identity of strong defense was inspired by the acquisition of Kevin Garnett (eight time All-Defensive first team) the previous season, but with KG sidelined with injury for the 2009 playoffs, the Celtics found themselves without their defensive leader and leader in what the team represented. (This season, the Celtics seemed once again doomed to fail in the playoffs. Not only have they become a terrible rebounding team, they acquired Nate Robinson during the season to help out their bench. They traded for a point guard that definitely doesn’t invoke images of stunning defensive play or a team-first attitude. Identity confusion is just as bad as identity loss — just ask last year’s Phoenix Suns, who ruined the most entertaining team that thrived on up-tempo play by acquiring Shaq. Not exactly the most fleet-footed center in the NBA.)

Identities change, and I think that professional sports teams don’t often realize that. This lack of realization results in the cycles of success and failure that seems to mark every franchise’s life. Every season new players are drafted, traded and acquired. Yet teams try to hold on to older identities that don’t necessarily fit with these new players. There are always new people who bring new things to the table. The inability to recognize a change/loss/confusion of identity can ruin a year, it can ruin a season … it can ruin a semester.

Frodo consoles Sam (SPOILER ALERT) after telling him that he is leaving Middle Earth forever at the end of “Lord of the Rings,” saying, “You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years.” It might be just me, but I don’t think that the Ringbearer had in mind that sports teams should find their own identities and adhere to them while adapting at the same time. Yet there is something deep and true about what Frodo says. Before any group of people, or any individual, can set out to become successful, they must first decide on exactly what they want to be successful.

Mark is a sophomore. You can reach him at mchin2@swarthmore.edu.

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