By Mansfield Frazier
Motorcycling weather is (finally, at last!) making a comeback to the region, and so too is a sort of cycling dilemma I’ve been confronted with over the years. While it’s certainly not earthshaking, it is somewhat illustrative of where we are as a society and where we’re going.
It has to do with the practice of motorcycle riders acknowledging each other as they approach from different directions. I call it the “low five” instead of the “high five.” Riders, usually with a balled fist, thrust their hands towards to ground in an act of acknowledgment and solidarity with other riders. If their hands are busy operating their bikes they might just nod.
There’s an unofficial code among bikers which states they are duty bound to look out for each other; this means, among other things, you don’t simply ride past another cyclist who’s stranded on the side of the road with mechanical problems or some other form of distress — you go back and offer help.
So far, so good … but here’s where my little dilemma comes in: Some riders don’t adhere to these rules of camaraderie, or at least suspend them over race. Here’s what I mean: I’m riding along a main thoroughfare on the Westside, trailing behind another Harley. The approaching rider gives the low five to the biker in front of me, but recoils in horror from offering me the same courtesy, making me feel somewhat like a jerk with my arm extended downwards in friendship towards him.
The only difference between me and the other rider in front of me is that he was white (as was the approaching rider) which leads me to the inescapable conclusion that race played a role in this little vignette. It’s happened enough times for me to come to this conclusion.
In any case my dilemma is easily solved: I simply wait to see if the other rider is going to acknowledge my humanity before I make a gesture (that, in the end, is really what this social interaction is all about: humanity.) Problem solved, and my little feelings don’t get bruised.
But here’s the cool thing: Over the course of time since I resumed motorcycling close to a decade ago, the number of white bikers who do acknowledge other riders irregardless of their race has increased dramatically.
While my little study is empirical in nature — there is no scientific study to back it up — I still take it as a sign of continuing progress being made in this country along racial lines.
LeBron redux?
Back when LeBron James was the best thing since sliced bread and the Cavs won his services via the NBA draft, I wrote a cautionary piece in which I attempted to warn the local citizenry against placing too much of our region’s hopes, dreams and aspirations on the shoulders of an 18-year-old. However my entreaties fell on deaf ears … and I’m sure this article will have the exact same impact: Zero.
Browns fans (the term “fan” is short for “fanatic” but you already knew that, right?) are all abuzz over the drafting of Johnny “Football” Manzeil, perhaps the most electrifying player to come down the pike in the last few years, but they could be setting themselves up for a huge disappointment. As the saying goes, those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.
It’s all a matter of physicality, and James was blessed by the basketball gods with an almost perfect blend of size, quickness, resiliency and brains. He’s the total player.
Manzeil, unfortunately, comes up short in one critical department: his height. The reason he was passed over by so many other teams is the belief (being stated repeatedly by knowledgeable football experts) that, try as he might, Manzeil won’t be able to make up for this glaring lack by his ability to scramble.
But hope beats eternal in the breasts of diehard fans, and no fans in the country are as dedicated as those of Cleveland’s professional sports teams; if any city in the country deserves a winner, it’s our town.
And we’ll finally get a championship once we get rid of Chief Wahoo. What fans can’t comprehend is that Native Americans put a curse on Progressive Field when it first opened (I was there to witness it) and, as curses sometimes do, it morphed over and has infected the Cavs and the Browns.
Now, I know that many fans are not superstitious, but most professional athletes are … and, after all, they’re the ones trying to score points with various sized balls. And as long as they believe Cleveland is cursed, their level of play is going to be effected.
After a few seasons, just ask Johnny Manzeil about the curse (if he lasts that long).
From Cool Cleveland correspondent Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com. Frazier’s From Behind The Wall: Commentary on Crime, Punishment, Race and the Underclass by a Prison Inmate is available again in hardback. Snag your copy and have it signed by the author by visiting http://NeighborhoodSolutionsInc.com.
One Response to “MANSFIELD: To Recognize or Not to Recognize, That is the Question…”
John Ettorre
Really interesting, your anecdotal sense of bike camaraderie and its racial component. Glad to hear it’s going in the right direction.