Linsanity, or, have we reached a post-racial sports discourse?

So I love sports, playing them and watching them and talking about them. And talking about how others talk about them, which I'm going to do here in a somewhat haphazard way, the associations outrunning the concepts. But a philosopher's reach should exceed her grasp, or what's a blog for? 

OK, so the last week or so the city of New York has been gripped by Linsanity, the feverish enthusiasm for the play of Jeremy Lin at point guard for the beleaguered but beloved Knicks. Here's a clip showing his skill and his joie de vivre; below the break, some discussion. (Do not be alarmed at the blue tongue, for which there is a rational explanation -- Gatorade.)

One of the most interesting things about Linsanity (beyond the multiple puns -- Super Lintendo, All He Does is Lin, Always be Linnin', and on and on -- and why do we love puns so much, anyway?) is that the analysis of his game has been for the most part pretty much non-racist.

Of course his Asian-American heritage is brought up in terms of marketing, etc., but the analysis of his game doesn't trade too much on "crafty," "wily," and so on. (He is said to be "smart," but that's pretty liberally spread around the league in analyzing point guards of whatever heritage.) Rather, we see (and I'm not going to provide extensive links, but I would welcome confirming or disconfirming links in comments) variations on the following: "quick, athletic, good size for a point guard, strong going to the rim, takes contact and finishes, turnover-prone, needs to work on his left hand, will his jump shot be consistent when teams go under the pick and roll?, what happens when fatigue catches up to him and his fresh legs cease to be an advantage? ..."

In other words, the sports commentariat has pretty much stuck to analyzing his game. The most common comparison for Lin has been to Steve Nash, but in fact in the past few years if there's anyone who is said to compensate for less-than-average athleticism by brains and playing the angles it's the African-American Chris Paul. And before him, the African-American Mark Jackson.

All this not to say that we've reached the promised land of post-racial sports discourse, but it's been pretty good I have to say. 

Now, will we ever get to a post-gendered discourse on women's sports? Not on the horizon, sad to say.

And yes, it's all pretty silly as Athens is burning.