What Chicago’s Loss Might Mean

Was sitting in class the other night -- my SU International Sports Relations course for those of you keeping track at home -- and asking what Chicago’s loss in bidding to host the 2016 Summer Olympic Games might mean to America. After all, Chicago and the U.S. Olympic Committee (USOC) had spent more than $50-million dollars and asked President Obama and the First Lady to drop everything (Health Care, Afghanistan, Economic Reform, the White Sox) and jet off to Copenhagen to inspire a few International Olympic Committee (IOC) voters to pick the Windy City. Most folks thought Chicago was a lock to make the finals.

As you know, it didn’t work. Chicago lost in the first round, Rio won big and America quietly went back to the NFL, baseball playoffs, college football and the start of the NHL season.

So I asked, in that Socratic way, (think ‘So-Crates’ blowing his dust into the wind during Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure), whether America was slipping as an international sports power and even, more broadly, as an empire.

We ended up with an interesting discussion. On some levels, undergraduate students of the early 21st century are not too worried about whether America is going to follow the historic arc of the Romans, Ottomans and British when we talk empires. Their America is one of freedom, IPods and cheese pizza. It’s a pretty good gig and even better if their basketball team is ranked in the pre-season Top 20.

And I’m not too sure they were overly concerned about the U.S. not hosting a global sports party like the World Cup or Olympics for possibly the next 13 years. In their minds, the FIFA World Cup in 1994 and the Atlanta Summer Olympics (1996) and Salt Lake Winter Olympics (2002) were proof enough that every so often the sports world comes to the U.S.

In time, they suggested, it will come again.

But here’s the rub: With the U.S. out of 2016 and 2018 (the U.S. will not bid for those Winter Games) and unlikely to bid for the 2020 Summer Games after losing 2012 to London and 2016 to Rio, it falls to U.S. Soccer to bid for the 2018 or 2022 World Cup. My sources tell me that the U.S. is a decent chance for 2022 but of course anything could happen. For the sake of this blog, though, let’s just say America gets the 2022 Cup. That means 20 years will have passed since 2002 for America to host something globally significant (with no disrespect intended for rugby, yachting or cricket).

Twenty years is a long time in a digital age and it suggests we are entering a time when America is no longer the optimal choice. That despite our wealth and financial influence, the world’s decision makers believe other places are better or more deserving. That they can live without Uncle Sam paying for the balloons and party hats.

Is that symbolic of something larger? Something creeping out there in the night just beyond the perimeter?

Sure, you can write off sports events as a means to provide good things for elite athletes. Maybe there is even some economic benefit to the local stakeholders. But what does it mean if, to quote Wayne and Garth, “we’re not worthy.” Does it mean America is falling behind? Does it portend a subtle, even subliminal undercurrent that Americans are starting to sense but can’t yet articulate? To paraphrase that little old band from Texas (ZZ Top), ‘we might be bad, even nationwide … but we’re no longer the sharpest dressed dudes.’

To their credit, my students didn’t think the world was ending or the sky falling but they did recognize (or at least suggest) that America has lost much global currency in the last decade. And could lose more if something doesn’t change. Evidence of their hope was supported just that morning by President Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize. It suggested America might climb back on top after a long winter hibernation.

To my way of thinking, though, it certainly means that U.S. sport management programs need to prepare the next generation of David Sterns (NBA), Gary Bettmans (NHL) and Don Garbers (MLS) who can bring the world’s athletes to North America but we also need intelligent graduates to volunteer to help build up global sport federations that drive sport at the grass roots level worldwide.

Let’s also hope that U.S. Soccer and the USOC can get America back in gear by 2020 or 2022. That’s only 11-13 years from now and by then a lot of my students will have had their first children and that Generation Next might, if we do our job well in the decade to come, potentially see America as a global sports hub again.

That, my friends, is the final word … for now.