From Bush's First Pitch After 9/11 To Epic Fail At Sugar Bowl, ESPN's Collapse Came Fast | Clay Travis

On October 30, 2001, at Game 3 of the World Series, President George W. Bush walked from the New York Yankees dugout to the pitcher's mound to throw out the first pitch. The nation's wounds from the September 11, 2001 terror attack were still raw. Bush, striding with purpose and conviction, was followed by cameras as he marched across the field. Later we would learn that he was wearing a bulletproof vest, but at that point in time we didn't know. 

Yankee Stadium, filled with many New Yorkers who had likely voted against Bush, roared with approval. 

Bush took the mound, stared down at the catcher, reared back and threw a strike. 

Yankee Stadium came undone.

It's one of the most iconic sports moments of the 21st century, a time when all Americans, regardless of their race or politics, came together to celebrate the common humanity of sports and the healing power of competition. The message on that night was clear: America was undaunted, we would not be defeated by terrorists. Games of sport, small as they might be in the larger geopolitical stakes, were important markers of America's resilience and playing and attending them sent an important message: we would not let the terrorists win. 

In the generation since that moment, Bush's pitch has continued to reverberate throughout history. 

So much so that in the fall of 2015, ESPN made a 30 for 30 documentary entitled simply, "First Pitch," about the impact of that George W. Bush first pitch for sports fans.

I thought about that movie, even went back and watched it, this Saturday morning as I was contemplating how a sports network like ESPN could have failed to cover the national anthem and the moment of silence in New Orleans the day after the Sugar Bowl was postponed in the wake of a deadly terrorist attack on Bourbon Street. 

Even though it was just nine years ago, it feels like a totally different era at ESPN, a time when the sports network existed to unite sports fans of all races, sexes, ethnicities, and, yes, political beliefs in common love of competition, before the network became infested with identity politics, before woke sports destroyed the ESPN brand. 

How in the space of less than a decade did ESPN go from making a documentary about the importance of a first pitch in the wake of a terror attack to not even acknowledging a moment of silence the day after a terror attack that required the very game it was covering in that city itself to be moved by a day?

And, in so doing, how much does this decade represent a lost unity, the collapse of sports as something that brought us together, and became instead yet another political wedge of divisiveness?

If you haven't heard about it, on Thursday afternoon in the Superdome in New Orleans, ESPN failed to cover the national anthem, the moment of silence for terror victims, the incredible USA chants echoing throughout the stadium and Notre Dame running on the field led by a player carrying the American flag. 

Each of these moments was iconic and important, a symbol of the people in that stadium, the players and coaches, and the city of New Orleans, rallying as one and letting the terrorists know they would not defeat us, that the spirit of America is unconquerable. 

I talked about it yesterday on my OutKick Show and on Clay and Buck. You can watch what I said here. 

Millions of people across Twitter, Instagram, Tik Tok, and Facebook have watched this video. 

The clip has gone mega-viral because it's not just me who feels this way, it's the vast majority of Americans. 

Given an opportunity to unite all Americans by simply saying nothing at all and allowing the innate goodness of the American sports fan to triumph and reveal itself in the stadium, ESPN completely and totally failed.

This isn't just my opinion. This morning I talked to sports TV producers at CBS, NBC, and Fox. ESPN too! (The ones not on this telecast.) All of them were in disbelief over this ESPN failure. Carrying the pre-game moments the day after a terror attack in New Orleans that required the game to be moved is the easiest editorial decision in sports history. It's a moment of historic significance, one that every person on the planet with even a semblance of intelligence would recognize was incredibly significant. 

Yet ESPN didn't cover a single moment of it. 

ESPN explained that they failed to cover it because of "timing issues."

But everyone I spoke with in sports TV production said this was completely untrue. Big sporting events are timed by the second. And they can be altered if necessary by TV. ESPN made a calculated decision not to carry the anthem, the moment of silence, and the resulting USA chants. As well as Notre Dame's team running on the field with a flag.

This wasn't an accident. 

It was a calculated and intentional decision.  

How did this happen?

The network isn't talking. 

At least not yet. 

Maybe the virality of the criticism will eventually force some sort of bland statement disclaiming responsibility, but I think the lesson is much larger here. Given one of the most important moments in modern sports history, ESPN failed utterly to honor the deaths of the innocent and the resilience of the American sports fan. 

If George W. Bush were throwing this first pitch today, instead of making a movie about it, ESPN wouldn't cover it. 

And I believe that's because the culture of ESPN has been destroyed by identity politics.

Loving America isn't seen as cool, chanting USA isn't popular with the woke identity politics set. And those people have been elevated inside ESPN to positions of such power that people are scared to speak up and counteract their awful decisions.  

Which is sad. 

Because that terrorist who drove down Bourbon Street didn't veer to avoid anyone based on their perceived identities, he wanted to kill everyone, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, male and female, and he did.

He hated all of us because of where we live and the freedoms we all have. 

The people inside the stadium understood that. Unfortunately ESPN's executives didn't. 

The absolute least ESPN could have done was been silent as those who were killed and maimed were honored on the football field. 

Heck, it's the very least we all could have done.

Because that could have been just about anybody in that stadium dead, including ESPN's own employees. 

Instead, they chose to ignore it all. 

Which is absolutely indefensible. 

Let me say this, there are a ton of stellar, amazing, ESPN employees. I'm good friends with many of them. They're embarrassed by what the network has become and by the fact that an error of this magnitude could occur. But an error like this isn't an accident, again, it was very intentional. ESPN has been destroyed from the inside, by the people who have been hired and elevated.  

Let me also pause here to point something else out: The SEC Network, which has steadfastly avoided all identity politics lunacy because of the leadership of commissioner Greg Sankey, covered every minute of the pregame tributes. 

Indeed, this provides an interesting window into culture itself and its importance. Why did the people running the SEC Network have the good sense to air all of this and the people running ESPN didn't? It's a fascinating story, the kind that might be told if we had honest people covering sports media in this country. Instead of partisan bootlickers, which I'll get to in a moment.    

But I want to address this paragraph directly to the three people running ESPN today, Disney CEO Bob Iger, ESPN president Jimmy Pitaro and ESPN's next highest up Burke Magnus. All three of you guys are legitimately huge sports fans. We may disagree on who should be president, but I know all three of you love sports. Some people fake being sports fans, you guys don't. You genuinely love sports. Don't all three of you have to meet and discuss how a failure like this happens? How you've allowed the culture inside of ESPN to become so toxic and you've promoted so many morons based on their identities as opposed to their talents, that a failure like this could even happen? Are you proud of the fact that in less than 10 years, ESPN has gone from making a film about how a president's first pitch can bring the country together after a terror attack to not even covering the national anthem and moment of silence the day after the terror attack in a city where the game is being played?

Your company's incompetence stole a moment of sports unity that could have echoed for a generation with American sports fans. 

Instead of airing on your network, the videos from inside the stadium have gone viral, fans proud of what they saw and wanting to share it with others. 

You failed immensely on the biggest stage of the year for your network, shouldn't you address why that was, fix it and ensure it never happens again?

I would if it happened at OutKick. 

Are you guys such cowards that you're afraid of what the reaction might be from your woke employees if you try to cure the rotten core that you've allowed your sports company to become?

Think about this: Two years ago your network covered a moment of silence protest against the so-called Florida "don't say gay" bill. Yes, of course, that's not what the bill actually said, and it turns out overwhelming majorities of parents agree with it -- all the bill does is say you shouldn't teach gender identity to kindergarten, first, second and third graders in Florida. Yet you've created, enabled and promoted such a culture of morons that this moment of silence aired on your network.  

So ESPN can cover a misguided moment of silence directed at a state law, but they can't carry a moment of silence for terror victims?

It's amazing how there were no "timing issues" when it came to the "don't say gay" bill, huh?

Your choices show what matters to you and ESPN is telling the vast majority of sports fans that it hates them and their values, their love of country, their innate belief in the exceptionalism of our country, its athletes and its history. 

Are you proud of what you've allowed sports at your company to become Bob Iger, Jimmy Pitaro and Burke Magnus?

And if you are, which I honestly doubt because while you may employ a cabal of woke morons who won't even acknowledge that men playing women's sports is absurd, you guys are all smart enough to know how ridiculous this all is. 

But is this really what you want your legacies to be, that you destroyed with identity politics a sports network's iconic brand that used to unite everyone?

Plus, let's be honest, your TV network business is collapsing. This year you're launching a direct-to-consumer streaming product. Do you really think American sports fans want to directly give you money for this woke BS that insults the vast majority of American sports fans?

Good luck with that. 

What you're producing isn't just awful sports coverage, it's also bad business. 

Now let me address the sports media "critics," the people who make a living taking posts off television, posting them on social media, and dissecting the most minuscule asides on sports broadcasts on their websites, their Twitter feeds, and their podcasts. You all know who you are and you're all reading this right now too. Where the hell are you guys? You spend tens of thousands of words on what Tom Brady or Tony Romo says about a third-down play and you don't say a word about ESPN neglecting to cover the national anthem and a moment of silence the day after a terror attack in the city where the game is being played? Are you such bootlicking, sniveling sycophants that you don't address historic broadcast failures because you're worried that if you do you won't get a heads up on the latest UFC TV extension five minutes before the press release goes out?

Is this really what you want your life to be, a desperate attempt to Tweet out a press release five minutes before it's released in exchange for your soul?

You guys are pathetic. 

The truth is, I've put my money where my mouth is. OutKick keeps skyrocketing in popularity because so many people out there refuse to call balls and strikes, refuse to just embrace a simple mantra: Sports are good, we all like sports. 

But sometimes, rarely, a moment is much bigger than sports. 

When those moments arise, all of us who are fortunate enough to have a large audience in sports have an incredible opportunity: to simply reflect the innate goodness of the American people, of the American sports fan. 

The brave people in that Superdome on Thursday afternoon deserved better than what ESPN showed of them on television. They were strong, they were unvanquished, they stood together as the national anthem ended and our beautiful flag unfurled on the field in front of them, and in common unison, white, black, Asian and Hispanic, do you know what the sports fans in America did on that day after the awful terror attack in New Orleans?

They came together as one and chanted, "USA, USA, USA." 

It was a glorious generational moment, a chant that should have reverberated on television networks for years to come, the kind of moment that could even inspire its own sports documentary a decade from now. 

And ESPN didn't even show it for the world to see. 

It was the biggest live sports programming failure of the 21st century. 

Heck, if ESPN were a coach, the entire network would have demanded that coach be fired the day after the game. 

Ultimately, the job of a sports network is not complicated; it's to show us what happens on a field or court. And in so doing, every so often, just by doing that, you can get fortunate enough to bring us all history.

And maybe, just maybe, in so doing allow sports to bring us all a little closer together in our common humanity. 

On Thursday afternoon, ESPN had that opportunity. 

All ESPN had to do was just show us what was happening in the Superdome the day after the terror attack as the two teams prepared to play. 

That's it!

Yet ESPN failed utterly and completely.

That's disappointing, but what's even more disappointing? A decade ago, ESPN wouldn't have failed. ESPN would have shown us the national anthem, would have shown us the moment of silence, would have let us hear the USA chants echoing throughout the stadium, and would have let us see Notre Dame running out onto the field with that bright, inspiring American flag held aloft in a player's hand. 

It's one thing to fail -- that happens in sports. 

It's another thing to fail at what you used to do well. 

All sports fans are familiar with this. It's called being past your prime and needing to retire.

On Thursday afternoon, ESPN didn't just fail, it showed us all that it was past its prime, a has-been sports network that was once capable of true greatness is now just a woke shell of itself, no longer even able to hold up a mirror to reflect the innate excellence of the American sports fan. 

On Thursday, sports fans didn't need ESPN to be perfect, we just needed it to show us the unconquerable soul of a sporting nation. 

The fact that ESPN is no longer able to do so wasn't a flaw in the game plan, it's the game plan itself. 

And for that, as an American sports fan, I'm profoundly sorry, even if ESPN and its leaders aren't.