As the omicron variant of COVID-19 spreads like wildfire, deeply held pieties about combating the virus have fallen away: the idea that COVID-19 could be defeated, as the Biden administration and other governments around the world had previously promised, or the notion that the unvaccinated constitute a uniquely immoral caste, worthy of little besides denunciation and ostracism.
Though these evolving realities have hit hard all over, the world of sports offers an interesting microcosm of the state of play. To casual spectators and the chattering class, sports serves as a grandiose morality play, full of easily identified heroes and villains whose actions convey important cultural truths. Retired quarterback Colin Kaepernick, who knelt his way into a lucrative Nike contract, and tennis star Naomi Osaka, who has turned decisions to avoid press conferences and tournaments into an emerging mental health brand, represent the forces of good. Vaccine-hesitant players such as all-time tennis great Novak Djokovic, NBA guard Kyrie Irving, NFL wide receiver Cole Beasley, and NFL quarterback Aaron Rodgers constitute a veritable rogue’s gallery, with support from careless players such as Dodgers third baseman Justin Turner, whose COVID-19-positive presence on the diamond during a 2020 World Series photo shoot exposed his fellow teammates to unnecessary risk.
This narrative has collapsed thanks to changing quarantine guidelines and omicron’s rapid spread. Previously, leagues such as the NBA and NFL had prescribed lengthy quarantine periods for the infected, mandated onerous protocols for unvaccinated players, and even allowed teams to deactivate unvaccinated players, such as the Brooklyn Nets had done with Irving. Now, owing to evolving CDC guidelines shortening quarantines along with rosters depleted of vaccinated players dealing with positive COVID-19 tests, pro teams could justify decisions to reactivate Irving for games outside New York or reinsert recently infected and unvaccinated Colts quarterback Carson Wentz into the lineup in advance of games with playoff implications.
Djokovic, unvaccinated but a few weeks removed from a COVID-19 infection, received a medical exemption from the state of Victoria’s Department of Health that would enable him to defend his Australian Open title. Although the Australian Border Force detained him when he entered the country because he failed to meet entry requirements for un vaccinated travelers, an Australian court quickly ordered his release. At the time of writing, the government has chosen not to deport him, and he remains eligible to play in the tournament.
Critics bemoaning this fallen state of affairs appeared in quick succession. In the Atlantic, Jemele Hill denounced the NBA and NFL for “essentially wav[ing] the white flag” and “ced[ing] to the forces of capitalism.” In the New York Times, Lindsay Crouse chastened Rodgers, who had himself recently mocked reporter Hub Arkush by remarking that the sanctimonious Arkush wanted to give an award to the “Most Valuable Vaccinated Player,” for citing “bodily autonomy” as a reason to eschew vaccination.
Such claims are too glib by far, particularly with regard to professional athletes. Their bodies are their businesses, and while there are still compelling reasons to justify widespread vaccination for individuals over 40, the omicron variant’s ability to evade the vaccine’s protections and lower virulence may have complicated that cost-benefit analysis for many.
For athletes, the decision not only varies by the rules of the sport — leagues with players unions that treat athletes as employees rather than independent contractors have attempted to encourage compliance strongly, while associations of independent contractors such as the UFC, PGA, and the ATP tennis tour have established guidelines to keep COVID-19-positive individuals out of competition while respecting their “free choice” regarding vaccination, but also by the nature of the sport itself. Within the sport of sumo, where morbid obesity combined with a tradition of communal living has led to repeated COVID-19 outbreaks and long recovery times, vaccination may have saved the lives of several at-risk athletes. In the ranks of professional bodybuilding, where the competitors already use heroic doses of performance-enhancing drugs and top competitors frequently find themselves forced to dispel rumors of their premature deaths, several athletes I interviewed over the past year explained that they eschew even routine flu shots because the slightest immune system response could send them to the emergency room.
Other athletes, whose bodies are supremely conditioned yet not nearly as taxed by excessive weight or steroid use, have their own reasons for receiving or refusing vaccination. Rodgers drew criticism for formulating his opinions about mRNA vaccines after listening to episodes of Joe Rogan’s podcast, but Rogan, who does color commentary for the UFC, carries a lot of weight in the sports community. Others, such as 23-year-old Greek tennis pro Stefanos Tsitsipas and veteran French player Gilles Simon, have cited more conventional reasons, noting that they were too young to have major concerns about COVID-19 but were worried about side effects such as myocarditis, which has a slight but medically confirmed association with the mRNA vaccines. And 23-year-old Orlando Magic forward Jonathan Isaac drew attention last year for speaking out against the vaccine in terms of religion and religious freedom, stating that he was putting his faith in God because “you can’t always put your trust completely in people.”
As the pandemic drags on, we have an opportunity to reflect on aspects of safety theater, some of which have been discarded. For some, this represents a moment of great shame, when collective sacrifices were undone by crude free-market imperatives. But it surely is a time of relief for athletes such as Irving, who lost an entire period of his storied playing career, or former Tampa Bay wide receiver Antonio Brown, whose own recent mental health flare-ups might have been tied to whatever compelled him to acquire an immunization card that the league determined to be counterfeit following a byzantine investigation. Though perhaps “relief” is stretching it a bit, particularly if their reputations and pocketbooks already took a hit during the heyday of “safetyism.” But at least they may have slightly more freedom to play ball than they did a few months earlier, assuming risks not altogether different than their predecessors did during the Spanish influenza epidemic of 1918 and surely less daunting than the ones related to CTE and other crippling injuries they already do face.
Their critics may still try to shout them down, but the volume of those shrill voices will likely diminish amid record COVID-19 caseloads falling heavily on both the vaccinated and unvaccinated.
Oliver Bateman is a journalist, historian, and co-host of the What’s Left? podcast. Visit his website: oliverbateman.com.
