There is a particular sadness reserved for watching a powerful Black man unravel in public. Not because the fall is entertaining, but because the storyline is so tired, it practically writes itself.
Sherrone More, the University of Michigan head coach’s scandal has now metastasized into a wall-to-wall spectacle. Cable and social media are having digital mukbangs. Headlines swell with every humiliating detail. And somewhere in all that noise, the real story is lost, not just about a man’s poor decisions, but about what America chooses to obsess over, and why.
Black men who reach rarefied air enjoying money, influence, proximity to whiteness, sometimes begin to believe gravity no longer applies. Shannon Sharpe learned this the hard way. So did Tiger Woods. So did Kobe Bryant, whose career survived but whose name was permanently marked even in his tragic death Gayle King opened her sour mouth. Add Sterling Sharpe’s generation, add Ben Roethlisberger’s contrast in coverage, add countless others where the same behavior earned radically different public judgments depending on who was involved and who was harmed.
And no, this isn’t about demonizing non-Black women. History already did that work without our help. This is about power, proximity, and the lethal myths that come with both.
