Once again, America finds itself engulfed in the suffocating fog of yet another “Great White Hopes” era, another grim resurgence of privilege and prejudice that routinely stains the very fabric of our society.

It never went away, it was merely unfashionable, but not any longer!

In the arena of politics, this lamentable reality is glaringly exemplified by the grotesque coronation of this divided nation’s most glorified Great White Hope… Donald Trump, backed by his loyal MAGA Klan. Their stranglehold on power, fueled by bigotry and nostalgia for a whitewashed past, serves as a chilling reminder of the depths to which our nation can sink.

But the rot doesn’t stop there. Cast your gaze upon the world of sports, where the echo chamber of racial bias reverberates loudly.

Hard court lady hoopster, Catlin Clark, is a baaaad woman, no question; she will redefine women’s Basketball, but she is, no fault of her own, unquestionably both a Great White Hope and a Trojan Horse, stuffed full of the expectations of MAGA fans who want to see her get paid, and see her put those mean, nasty lesbian Black girls back in their 2nd place.

MAGA fans, and there are millions, love to see her talk stuff to Black women.  It’s that simple.

Catlin is Larry Bird, and Bird was undeniably a Great White Hope, who saved the NBA because he had enough talent, and enough game to battle Magic Johnson.

Witness the nauseating spectacle of White quarterbacks, bathed in the adoration of a predominantly White fan base and a sports press that mirrors their complexion. It’s a sickening charade, a reminder that even in the supposedly meritocratic arena of athletics, privilege and pigment still dictate who receives the lion’s share of acclaim.

President, Astronaut, and Quarterback. Alpha-male positions have been traditionally reserved for White guys, only.

From the hallowed halls of the presidency to the hallowed turf of the gridiron, positions of alpha-male dominance have long been the exclusive domain of White men. Frederick Douglass, a titan of intellect and integrity, should have shattered this ignominious tradition over a century ago, and been America’s 1st Black President. Yet, the entrenched forces of White supremacy, like petulant children guarding their toys, refused to relinquish their grip on power.

This past weekend, the theater of testosterone and touchdowns, the NFL, found itself thrust into turmoil when two Black men, Atlanta Falcons head coach Raheem Morris and General Manager Terry Fontenot, dared to defy the shackles of convention. In a move that rocked the league to its core, they brazenly snubbed the approval of the white plantation owner, Arthur Blank, by drafting ebony Signal Caller, Michael Penix, Jr. out of Washington University. This audacious act came hot on the heels of the team’s earlier signing of the heralded Great White Hope, Kirk Cousins, leaving pundits and press alike agog, branding the move as unfathomable and asinine. It’s clear that much of the vitriol hurled their way stemmed from the perceived an affront to the White QB establishment.

The news blindsided Cousins, revealed to him mere moments before the fateful pick was made. Are we to take this seriously? These are the same fans who bristled with indignation when Aaron Rodgers and Russell Wilson dared to assert their influence on draft decisions, clamoring for them to “shut up and play.”

Yet now, suddenly, a player with a solitary playoff victory in a career spanning twelve years is deemed worthy of notification and approval for a transaction. The hypocrisy is as glaring as the stadium lights on a Sunday night.

The gridiron, that hallowed battleground where gladiators clash, has long been a bastion of WASP dominance. It’s a legacy born of fear and prejudice, where the notion of a Black signal caller was anathema to the established order. It’s no coincidence that it’s taken an eternity to see the emergence of three Black quarterbacks selected within the first six picks of the NFL draft.

The white men in power were hell-bent on keeping the playing field as pale as possible.

Enter the Denver Broncos’ brain trust, the Sam Walton Family, executing a breathtaking about-face. They pivoted from the “uppity, pompous” Russell Wilson, who dared to challenge the status quo, to reach for their own Great White Hope in Bo Nix, a White Signal Caller. The message is clear: in the game of football, just as in society, the entrenched forces of privilege will stop at nothing to maintain their grip on power, even if it means stifling the talent and potential of those deemed unworthy by their narrow standards.

I toil away in the educational salt mines alongside a good ol’ boy Libertarian and let me tell you, he hit the nail square on the head. Picture this: Bo Nix at quarterback for the Broncos, and suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, the team needs a white receiver. Boom, bang - you’ve got yourself Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, or better yet, the Dukes of Hazzard reincarnated. Bo and Luke, tear up the field in a vintage orange and blue Charger, the Confederate flag fluttering defiantly from the roof, just like in the iconic TV series.

And the merchandising frenzy that follows? It’s like a tidal wave crashing onto the Walmart shelves across the seven-state Rocky Mountain Empire. Tee shirts, mugs, caps, pajamas – you name it, it’ll be adorned with the bronzed visages of our newfound gridiron heroes.

The White fanbase is starved for sports heroes who look like them, and some dudes from the Extreme Kite flying or extreme Tiddly Winks teams on ESPN 8.

Black presidents and quarterbacks become the boogeymen in barbershops, churches, sports bars, and on gun ranges across MAGA land, the scapegoats for a perceived loss of their precious country. Spoiled brats and paper tiger bullies, that’s what most MAGA men are – and here’s the kicker, a lot of white men are MAGA men too, if you catch my drift.

Sure, not everyone who voted for Trump is a card-carrying racist, but let’s face it: every MAGA racist proudly casts their ballot for him. And within the sports world? It’s rife with Trump supporters, from players to owners to the media to the fans, like a toxic undercurrent coursing through the veins of our national pastime. And that, my friend, is not just conjecture – it’s a cold, hard fact.

BlackCommentator.com Columnist, Desi

Cortez, who also writes for

BlackAthlete.com & NegusWhoRead.com,

was hatched in the heart of Dixie, circa

1961, at the dawning of the age of

Aquarius, the by-product of four dynamic

individuals, Raised in South-Central LA,

the 213. At age 14 transplanted to the

base of the Rockies, Denver. Still a Mile-

Hi. Sat at the foot of scholars for many,

many moons, emerging with a desire and

direction… if not a sheep-skin.

Meandered thru life; gone a-lot places,

done a-lot of things, raised a man-cub

into an officer n' gentleman, a "man's

man." Produced a beautiful baby-girl

with my lover/woman/soul-mate… aired

my "little" mind on the airwaves and

wrote some stuff along the way.

Wordsmith behind America's Ten Months

Pregnant . . . Ready To Blow!: Even

Trump Can't "Make America White

Again." A New, More Inclusive, Diverse

21st Century America - Love It . . . Or

Get The Hell Out!. Contact Mr. Cortez

and BC.