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Silent Sunday
© St. Petersburg Times, TAMPA -- You could hear the cars zooming up and down Dale Mabry Highway. You could hear birds chirping near the entrances. And you could hear the annoying hum of heavy machinery as workers fixed a sewer pipe along Tampa Bay Boulevard. It's what you couldn't hear standing outside Raymond James Stadium early Sunday afternoon that was so deafening. You couldn't hear the crunch of pads, of vendors hawking cold beer and cannons blasting in triumph. You couldn't hear the roar of 65,000 fans as Keyshawn Johnson snagged another driving-sustaining catch over the middle on third down. Nor could you hear a collective sigh as Donovan McNabb narrowly squirted out of the grasp of Warren Sapp. These were the sounds of Silent Sunday, a day we can hope never will be repeated. Stadiums, ballparks and arenas around the country sat silent much like Raymond James, where the only thing that moved was the security guard who whizzed around the stadium periodically. By 1 p.m., when the Bucs were supposed to kick off against the Eagles, the morning newspapers delivered to the stadium were still sitting conspicuously outside the east club suite entrance. "Nobody's thinking about football," Giants cornerback Jason Sehorn told reporters in New York this weekend. That's how it should be. There will be time for games, competition and victories, but Sunday wasn't it. It was a day for us to think beyond the playing field. For rivalries to give way temporarily to reflection. For bats and balls to be laid down in the name of bereavement. It was a day to honor our heroes, those men and women in uniform who face the kind of blows that can't be softened by shoulder pads or helmets. And for remembering those tackled on Tuesday who will never get back to the huddle. The empty stadiums and ballparks represented the emptiness in our hearts. The silence was an expression of our sorrow for those who no longer can speak. On Tuesday, President Bush said: "Today our nation saw evil." On Sunday, evil saw the goodness of our nation. If you're like me, you didn't know exactly what to do Sunday. Some people undoubtedly spent the day in church. Others perhaps worked around the house or played golf or went shopping. Clearly, it was not a day for painting your face, swilling 12-packs of beer and screaming your lungs out at Raymond James Stadium or Tropicana Field. The NFL's decision not to play seemed the right one when commissioner Paul Tagliabue announced it Thursday, and even more so Sunday. Can you imagine asking the Giants guard Jason Whittle to play a game Sunday when his best friend's brother, injured in the World Trade Center attack, is fighting for his life in a New York hospital? Or any member of the teams in Washington and Pittsburgh, whose lives are probably forever changed by the events of last week? No, sports got this one right for a change. In doing nothing Sunday, sports did a lot. It stood somberly Sunday in its proper place, in the back row of our consciousness, just off to the side. Today, of course, will be different. Today, we'll begin to move forward, to reach for some semblance of normalcy again as major-league baseball resumes and NFL teams return to practice, readying for a season that won't soon be forgotten, if ever. "You try to not forget, but just put it aside for a little bit," Ravens defensive tackle Tony Siragusa said. It's okay now, because our empathy will carry on. There will be more tributes, dedications and demonstrations at ballparks and stadiums for weekends to come. And there will be more moments of silence, perhaps not on the same scale as Sunday, but moments nevertheless. Listen for them. Listen for the comfort they bring. And listen because, frankly, it's what we should do.
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Times columns today Howard Troxler Jan Glidewell Darrell Fry From the Times Sports page Attack aftermath Rays Sports Etc. |
