Anthony Harris wrestled with the consequences of what he wanted to do versus the potential outcome.
The Minnesota Vikings safety was on his way to the grocery store one evening in early June when he noticed a police car driving through his neighborhood in Richmond, Virginia, his offseason home. He thought about pulling over and putting on his flashers to get the officer’s attention.
Harris wanted to talk. Human to human — Black man to white police officer — about the events taking place across the nation. The unrest and activism began after George Floyd was killed while in custody of the Minneapolis Police Department on May 25.
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Harris’ intentions came from a place of hurt, wanting to bring forth healing. He saw an opportunity to use his voice and platform as a prominent Black athlete to create change and understanding.
After weighing the risks, Harris decided it was worth it.
“It crossed my mind that I could be potentially shot or viewed as a threat just for what I was trying to do,” said Harris, who talked to the officer for 25 minutes, according to the Minneapolis Star Tribune. “I made sure I proceeded with extra caution so I didn’t surprise them or, with everything going on in the world, that I tried to make them feel comfortable. It kind of just kept things in perspective of, no matter where you go or no matter what you’re really doing as an African American man, that’s something that you can’t shake.”
Harris and his Vikings teammates watched the video of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin kneeling on Floyd’s neck for seven minutes and 48 seconds, according to Minnesota prosecutors. It happened in the community where so many Vikings had donated their time and resources.
In 2018, the Vikings launched a social justice committee in which players can discuss racial matters openly and support organizations battling systemic issues in the Twin Cities. According to a survey by ESPN’s NFL Nation, Minnesota is one of 17 teams with a social justice committee. Three other franchises have similar programs in the works.
Now, the Vikings are at the epicenter of a social justice movement that has gone international. The team’s presence in the Twin Cities community should help give them a platform to foster a dialogue about racism and remove barriers that hinder the vulnerable and underserved.
“These issues are very real,” linebacker
In the days after Floyd’s death, Vikings players, coaches, front-office personnel and ownership held a series of meetings and expressed anger, sadness and pain. Harris and Kendricks released videos on the team’s website in which they wrestled with their grief and expressed a desire to help while struggling to determine the best course of action. “More minds are greater than just one, and that’s the attitude we’re taking, and we’re all putting our heads together and trying to really create change,” Kendricks said. When Vikings general manager Rick Spielman and co-defensive coordinator Andre Patterson came up with the idea of a teamwide social justice committee, they received immediate support from ownership. The Wilf family, which owns the Vikings, donated $250,000 to the committee in 2018 and again in 2019. That money was allocated to scholarships and school supplies for low-income students, legal aid, youth services and programs that aim to improve the relations between law enforcement and the community. In the aftermath of Floyd’s death, Vikings ownership announced a $5 million donation to social justice causes across the nation. The social justice committee also created an endowed George Floyd Legacy Scholarship to benefit Black high school seniors in Minneapolis-St. Paul who are pursuing post-secondary education. Chief operating officer Andrew Miller called the Vikings’ opportunity to make an impact “both a privilege and an obligation.” Players on the committee, including Harris, Kendricks and running backs Ameer Abdullah and Alexander Mattison, are ready to lead the charge. It comes after another African American was killed by police. This time, however, the circumstances feel different. “Through time, the Black community has been telling the world that this has been going on,” Patterson said. “And a lot of people didn’t want to believe that it was going on, that the person had to do something wrong to either get choked to death, or shot, or whatever. “But this is the reason why this one’s different: Because the whole world got to see life leave that man’s body. … Not only did they get to see him lose his life — they got to see it from start to finish.” Almost 30 years ago, Patterson learned progress can be made when you foster communication and understanding. Like many of his African American players at Washington State, where he coached from 1992-93, Patterson often was followed home by police or stopped without reason. He went to then-head coach Mike Price and asked to be a liaison between the team and police department with the goal of bridging a gap. Patterson met with the police chief regularly. He arranged for players to take part in ride-along programs with officers and held joint softball games and barbecues. Building trust was crucial. “One of the things that I ended up finding out was the police thought that all of the players we were bringing in from California were Southern California gangbangers,” Patterson said, noting the racial tensions at the time after Rodney King’s assault by the Los Angeles police. “They were already on alert because they heard all the stories about what was going on in L.A. and the gangbangers and how violent they were. That’s how they viewed our players, and because of us being able to spend time around them … it changed, and they started to treat our guys differently. Our guys started to treat them differently.” He shared that experience during the Vikings’ social justice committee’s first meeting in 2018, and players saw an opportunity to make a similar impact. That winter, members of the social justice committee teamed with police in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area to read books to children. They did it again in 2019. • Officer Charles Adams III was at that meeting. He is a police officer and the head football coach at his alma mater, Minneapolis North High School, which produced Tampa Bay Bucs receiver “It’s hard to have people understand that I wear blue but I’m Black. So all I try to do is let each and every one of the kids I mentor and I coach, let them know where my heart’s at.” Charles Adams III, Minneapolis police officer and high school football coach And he asked for Vikings players to help. “I just told them, straightforward, that we need your guys’ support as an organization in letting people know that you support us, but you identify the problems and are willing to continue to provide to the community to make change,” Adams said. “Publicly, people need to understand that this is an isolated incident that has put a huge black eye on our department, but this is not the characteristic of every single person in this department. “It’s easy for organizations to be like ‘What do you guys need?’ And I never ask for anything monetary, because I know people can give me thousands of dollars and I can never see them again. I always tell people that it’s more important to have the time and showing your face. I think kids and people appreciate that more. The fellowship and the outreach in the community is a big thing.” The Vikings’ social justice committee wants to be a part of the solution. They want to take action. The big question is how. For many, it starts with the most basic element when seeking change: starting a dialogue. “How can I get individuals who aren’t affected [by issues of racism and other forms of systemic injustice] to be more aware, and somehow draw them into the issue and the topics that are going on?” Harris asked. “… How can I draw the person who is unaffected, who hasn’t experienced that? How can I draw them closer to this situation? “Those are the people who I’m trying to reach, to create more of a dialogue and brainstorm, and really just draw behind the rally of acting in the best interests of the country and standing behind what’s right and what this country is supposed to represent and look like.” Vikings players believe having “uncomfortable” conversations and creating an alliance to help expand the committee’s reach and impact is part of the solution. The Vikings have had a diverse group of players among its membership. Tight end
TAMPA, Fla. — Former Tampa Bay Buccaneers team president and senior executive Gay Culverhouse, who devoted her life to helping former NFL players dealing with health issues including chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), has died at the age of 73, a family spokesperson told the New York Times.
Culverhouse, the daughter of late Buccaneers owner Hugh Culverhouse, died Wednesday at her home in Fernandina Beach, Florida. Culverhouse suffered from complications from myelofibrosis, a form of chronic leukemia inhibiting the production of red blood cells. She had battled the condition, which left her severely anemic, since 2003.
She was originally given just five years to live and survived 17 years with the illness.
“We are saddened to hear of the passing of Gay Culverhouse earlier this week,” Buccaneers owner and co-chairman Bryan Glazer said in a statement. “During her family’s ownership of the Buccaneers, Gay was a leading figure in and around the Tampa Bay community who was defined by her compassion for helping others. Her tireless work as an advocate for retired NFL players is also an important part of her personal legacy. We send our heartfelt condolences to her children, Leigh and Chris, and the entire Culverhouse family.”
Culverhouse joined the Buccaneers in 1986, years after her father was awarded the expansion Buccaneers in 1974. Before joining the Buccaneers, she worked as an instructor at the University of South Florida College of Medicine from 1982-1986, specializing in child psychiatry after earning her doctorate from Columbia University.
She remained with the organization until 1994, resurfacing 15 years later to serve as an advocate for retired players, testifying in a House Judiciary hearing on head injuries among NFL players in 2009.
“One of the things you, as a committee, need to understand very clearly is the fact that the team doctor is hired by the coach and paid by the front office,” Culverhouse said. “This team doctor is not a medical advocate for the players. This team doctor’s role is to get that player back on the field, even if that means injecting the player on the field.”
“My men have headaches that never stop. They cannot remember where they are going or what they want to say without writing it down. Some are on government welfare. Some are addicted to pain medication. Some are dead.”
She called for mandatory benching of players suffering from concussions and for independent neurologists not affiliated with teams to be on the field for every game evaluating players. Thanks to her efforts, the league implemented this policy in 2013, which includes fines and even forfeiture of draft picks should teams fail to follow concussion guidelines.
It was the death of former Buccaneers lineman Tom McHale of an accidental drug overdose in 2008 that prompted Culverhouse to take up the cause of helping former players. McHale was just 45, but his brain, researchers found, was marked by signs of the neurological disease CTE.
“I became very concerned and started looking more thoroughly into concussions,” she said. “And I thought, ‘I’ve got to do something. I can’t let this fester.’ “
She formed the nonprofit Gay Culverhouse Players’ Outreach Program, paying for medical exams for dozens of retired players while assisting them with the necessary paperwork to receive medical benefits.
When asked why she chose to adopt the cause of retired NFL players, Culverhouse said in 2010, “Because it needs to be done. If not me, then who?”
Culverhouse didn’t shy away from her father’s unpopular and often controversial decisions, which included a low-ball salary offer to then-Buccaneers quarterback Doug Williams, who would later become Super Bowl MVP as a member of the
The Washington Redskins face renewed pressure to change their nickname, but this time protestors are targeting their sponsors, Adweek reported.
According to the report Wednesday, Nike, FedEx and PepsiCo each received letters signed by 87 investment firms and shareholders worth a combined $620 billion asking the companies to sever ties with the Redskins unless they change their controversial name. There has been more pressure in recent weeks to change their name given the social climate following the death of George Floyd in Minnesota.
The Redskins have contributed to some of that change, removing the name of former owner George Preston Marshall from their ring of fame. Marshall was the last NFL owner to integrate his roster, and did so only under pressure from the government to avoid losing a 30-year lease on federal land.
But Native American leaders want owner Dan Snyder to change the name, which the franchise has used since 1933. In the past, groups protested the name and tried to win in court. Those efforts failed. Now investors are appealing to the sponsors, something that one former high-ranking Redskins employee called “different.”
