Just because you have the right to do something doesn’t make it a good idea. In Nevada, for instance, someone has the right, legally speaking, to empty their bank account on a Sunday, spend some of it at a particularly colorful Assembly candidate’s place of business, drink their weight in hard liquor, then spend the rest of their money at a casino. That doesn’t mean it’s wise, or that they won’t face a few consequences for their actions the next day.

I mused about this when the NFL released their new protest policy which, to a close approximation, satisfied absolutely nobody. To wit:

The 32 member clubs of the National Football League have reaffirmed their strong commitment to work alongside our players to strengthen our communities and advance social justice. The unique platform that we have created is unprecedented in its scope, and will provide extraordinary resources in support of programs to promote positive social change in our communities.

The membership also strongly believes that:

-All team and league personnel on the field shall stand and show respect for the flag and the Anthem.

-The Game Operations Manual will be revised to remove the requirement that all players be on the field for the Anthem.

-Personnel who choose not to stand for the Anthem may stay in the locker room or in a similar location off the field until after the Anthem has been performed.

-A club will be fined by the League if its personnel are on the field and do not stand and show respect for the flag and the Anthem.

-Each club may develop its own work rules, consistent with the above principles, regarding its personnel who do not stand and show respect for the flag and the Anthem.

-The Commissioner will impose appropriate discipline on league personnel who do not stand and show respect for the flag and the Anthem.​

Those opposed to Colin Kaepernick-style kneeling protests against police brutality demanded far more draconian action. Former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee, for example, recommended locking the players in the locker room. President Donald Trump, meanwhile, posited deportation as a possible solution. Several celebrities and columnists including Reno Gazette-Journal sports writer Chris Murray have suggested boycotting the NFL. State Sen. Tick Segerblom opined that, owing to Nevada’s subsidy of the Raiders’ new stadium in Las Vegas, there’s a chance that the 1st Amendment — which usually only protects against government censorship of speech — might also apply to the NFL.

Personally, I’ve been “boycotting” the NFL for years, taking the principled stance that the games are boring and take too long. Admittedly, it isn’t the most pressing social justice issue of our time, but I feel good about refusing to watch more than three hours of television packed with bad commercials, Nicean interpretations of what a “catch” is or isn’t, and nail-biters like the 46-9 shellacking of the Colts that opened the Anaheim St. Louis Los Angeles Rams’ season last year. (Personal aside:  I was a Rams fan growing up. We weren’t allowed to wear Raiders colors in school in Southern California because of gang activity.)

I’m apparently not alone in my casual boycott.

The NFL’s ratings have been declining steadily since at least 2013, well before my favorite former Nevada Wolf Pack quarterback took a knee to start a game instead of to finish one. My thoughts regarding the new policy largely mirror Reason’s — yes, the NFL can do this, and it might even be understandable, but that doesn’t make it smart or right. The NFL just pressed its cleats firmly into the field of the interminable culture wars, but did so in such an equivocating, bureaucratically technical fashion that it merely hides the problem and guarantees far more noticeable acts of surreptitious resistance — assuming, of course, the new policy doesn’t run afoul of existing agreements with the NFLPA.

In other words, like a “catch” and a “tuck," a “protest” is ultimately going to be in the eye of the beholder. I can’t wait for NFL football games to start with a five minute booth review of where everyone was standing during the playing of the national anthem.

While we wait for the referees to decide whether to assess a 15-yard penalty or the inevitable incontinence and impotence medication commercials to play to their awkward finish (the NFL is clearly targeting a younger demographic), I wonder:  how did we even get here? Why is “The Star-Spangled Banner” played at the beginning of sporting events? And why do we have a national anthem in the first place?

A history of national anthems

Blame the Dutch.

In 1572, when the Protestant Dutch revolted against Catholic Spain, somebody (nobody knows who, thought there have been some recent breakthroughs) wrote an inspiring piece of music called “Wilhelmus van Nassouwe.” It told the story of William of Orange — the Dutch Revolt’s equivalent of George Washington — and his desire to serve God, the Dutch and King Phillip II of Spain. Now, giving a nod to the Spanish monarch might seem like an odd thing to embed in a ditty that served as the revolt’s equivalent of “A Prayer for Marta,” but it made political sense. William of Orange was hoping King Phillip would make the revolt unnecessary by ending the anti-Protestant Inquisition, lowering taxes and allowing local rule.

Unfortunately, that line of reasoning didn’t work any better than it did when our Founding Fathers tried the same approach on King George against Parliament, and for the same reason:  Both monarchs were quite fond of the policies that sparked the respective rebellions and, correspondingly, quite fond of the people responsible for carrying them out. And so the Dutch ultimately and violently cast off Spanish rule, but both during and after the revolt, “Wilhelmus” was still played whenever William of Orange or his descendants (the future monarchs of the Netherlands) held official business requiring pomp. Finally, after centuries of serving as an unofficial national anthem (a status that “God Save the Queen” still holds in the UK), the Netherlands made the song their official national anthem in 1932.

The first official national anthem belongs to the losing side of the Dutch Revolt, albeit well after that outcome was decided. Spain’s “Marcha Real,” the only national anthem with no official lyrics, was written in 1761 and became the official national anthem in 1770. Another revolt against a monarch, a little conflict called the French Revolution, inspired the next official anthem, “La Marseillaise.” During the Latin American wars of independence, which were inspired by the French Revolution, each group of revolutionaries wrote and adopted official anthems for their brand new nations, starting with Argentina’s “Himno Nacional Argentino” in 1813. As the tumultuous 19th century continued, each new nation forged by revolution — and sometimes an older nation or two that just thought having an official national anthem would be cool — declared a specific song as their national anthem.

Because the American Revolution pre-dated the French Revolution, the United States was created before the adorable habit of new revolutionary governments commissioning and assigning national anthems took hold. And so it was that the U.S. initially followed the same path as Great Britain and simply let tradition and custom decide what songs should be played on what occasions. “Hail Columbia,” George Washington’s inauguration song, served unofficially as an anthem throughout the 19th century. By the late 1800s, however, another song was becoming more popular. It was a rather challenging to sing piece based on a popular tune originally written in an aristocratic gentleman’s club in London and whose lyrics had been replaced by a poem written by a slave-owning racist who tried to get an abolitionist executed for distributing leaflets round about the time he was stuck in Fort Henry during the War of 1812.

The poem, to its credit, was much more inspiring than the sleepy libretto of “Hail Columbia” (“Let independence be our boast / Ever mindful what it cost”). “The Star-Spangled Banner” was showy in a way even Michael Bay would respect (“And the rockets’ red glare / The bombs bursting in air”). Between the initial popularity of the tune itself and the vivid imagery of Francis Scott Key’s lyrics, “The Star-Spangled Banner” slowly but steadily gained a following, including for some official uses. Nationally, the U.S. Navy was the first institution to officially adopt “The Star-Spangled Banner” (in 1889). President Woodrow Wilson personally followed suit in 1916, and Congress made it the national anthem in 1931. By then it was already being played locally in various 4th of July celebrations.

“The Star-Spangled Banner” and sports

What really set “The Star-Spangled Banner” apart from songs like “Hail Columbia,” though, was not an act of Congress — but sports.

In 1918, near the end of World War I, the Boston Red Sox and Chicago Cubs — two teams that wouldn’t win another championship for nearly a century — were, yes, in the World Series. Game One was in Chicago, and the crowd was a bit listless. Babe Ruth, pitching for the Red Sox, was in the process of pitching a shutout. The seventh-inning stretch came none too soon for Cubs fans. And for this game’s entertainment, a military band was on hand (not uncommon at the time, especially with the war on). They played a familiar tune.

As ESPN described it when they wrote about it in 2011:

Upon hearing the opening notes of Key's song from the military band, [Red Sox third baseman] Thomas immediately faced the flag and snapped to attention with a military salute. The other players on the field followed suit, in "civilian" fashion, meaning they stood and put their right hands over their hearts. The crowd, already standing, showed its first real signs of life all day, joining in a spontaneous sing-along, haltingly at first, then finishing with flair. The scene made such an impression that The New York Times opened its recap of the game not with a description of the action on the field but with an account of the impromptu singing: "First the song was taken up by a few, then others joined, and when the final notes came, a great volume of melody rolled across the field. It was at the very end that the onlookers exploded into thunderous applause and rent the air with a cheer that marked the highest point of the day's enthusiasm."

The reception was so positive, the Cubs played “The Star-Spangled Banner” again during the seventh-inning stretch of Games Two and Three. The Red Sox followed suit by playing the song before the next home game while introducing some wounded veterans who received free tickets for their service. The crowd went wild — and a new tradition was born. By 1931, baseball was “America’s favorite pastime” and “The Star-Spangled Banner” was our national fight song, birthed in baseball’s popularity and lovingly upheld with other traditions the sport brought to the national consciousness.

By the mid-1950s, however, the thrill had worn off, at least for some. The Baltimore Orioles — the team representing the very city in which Francis Scott Key wrote the lyrics — decided not to play “The Star-Spangled Banner” anymore, as fans weren’t paying respectful attention while it rang out. The Baltimore City Council applied some pressure on the team, which changed its tune a month later, but it wouldn’t be the last time that sports and the national anthem crossed in uncomfortable and now familiar ways.

In 1990, Roseanne Barr attempted to sing the national anthem at a Padres game. She failed almost instantly. Compounding the musical error was an error in comedic timing. Making fun of the gross habits of ballplayers, like their frequent crotch grabbing was common comedic material at the time, but it didn’t go off as hoped:

Barr had a plan. This was the era of "The Naked Gun” and "Major League,” when mocking ballplayers for their nasty habits became comedy gold. She says that some of the Padres suggested, pre-performance, that she punctuate her Anthem with the grab. They thought it would be hilarious. Instead, in the aftermath, two Padres veterans in particular – future Hall-of-Famer Tony Gwynn and pitcher Eric Show – slammed her act as insulting.

President George Bush also wasn’t amused. From Air Force One, he pronounced the performance as “disgraceful” to a televised audience. Roseanne Barr later issued a public apology.

A few years later, Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf, one of the best free-throw shooters of all time, decided early in the 1995-96 NBA season that he wouldn’t stand and salute the flag during the national anthem. Interestingly, nobody noticed — until a local reporter in Denver asked him about it in March (the season started the previous November). The NBA’s response to the controversy the story created was initially somewhat harsh — Abdul-Rauf was suspended for a game — but they eventually reached a compromise for future games:  He would stand for the national anthem, but he wasn’t required to salute the flag. Unfortunately, like Colin Kaepernick, Mahmoud’s season of protest was the last season he played.

“The Star-Spangled Banner” today

As Chris Murray pointed out several months back, NFL players weren’t even originally on the field during the national anthem — or least some of them, according to Snopes, and rarely were games televised back then, anyhow. It’s been a thing for most of the football games in most of our memories, though.

In 2009, the Department of Defense began a controversial “paid patriotism” policy which, according to a report prepared by Arizona senators John McCain and Jeff Flake, paid for “patriotic tributes at professional football, baseball, basketball, hockey, and soccer games.” (The NFL ultimately gave back some of the money it accepted from the Department of Defense in 2016, and the Department of Defense has since stopped the “paid patriotism” program.)

Whether players are on the field or not, though, isn’t the point. Why do we still routinely play the national anthem before nearly all sporting events? Many fans were indifferent enough in the ‘50s for team owners to reconsider the tradition, and if fans were “meh” after World War II, McCarthyism and the Korean War, how indifferent are modern fans by comparison...? Even if we stop performing the national anthem before every sporting event, it could still be played for special occasions, as it was in 1918 or in Yankees Stadium after 9/11. On such occasions, it would still have impact and meaning. In fact, removing it from routine play would heighten the symbolism and meaning when a special occasion actually calls for its performance.

It also might clear the way for a new tradition to develop, one involving a song that’s easier to sing. As Brian Doherty from Reason once put it when describing Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.”:

When I hear those notes and that drumbeat, and the Boss' best arena-stentorian, shout-groan vocals come over the speakers, I feel like I'm hearing the national anthem.

Maybe he was hearing the next national anthem — one that even the most disaffected American can find meaning and solace in.

David Colborne has been active in the Libertarian Party for two decades. During that time, he has blogged intermittently on his personal blog, as well as the Libertarian Party of Nevada blog, and ran for office twice as a Libertarian candidate. He serves on the Executive Committee for both his state and county Libertarian Party chapters. He is the father of two sons and an IT professional. You can follow him on Twitter @ElectDavidC or email him at [email protected].