Sports fans pay the ticket price or tune in for the action. But are they getting a dose of religious proselytizing instead? Are super stars using their status to push sectarian and exclusionary religious beliefs?

hey might not have been doing the "dirty bird" during Super Bowl XXXIII , but players and fans were praying and making other religious gestures as the Denver Broncos bested the Atlanta Falcons 34-19. There didn't seem to be much evidence of supernatural intervention, though. Atlanta probably left everything they had back in Minnesota, Bronco QB John Elway drilled his targets amidst the mediocre Falcon defense, but, oh yes, there was the performance of safety Eugene Robinson.

   About Mr. Robinson...

   Sports Illustrated refers to him as "one of the NFL's most respected players," and he's generally credited as one of the reasons behind the Atlanta Falcon's march this past season to their first Super Bowl. Robinson is nicknamed "Preacher" because of his deep religious beliefs, and penchant for quoting Bible verse, and thanking god for his performance on the field. The fumbles and incompletes are his responsibility, but when he connects for a first down or TD, it's due to The Man Upstairs, right?

   On Saturday night, while the pre-Bowl parties were off and running in Miami, it seems that Eugene was allegedly luking on Biscayne Boulevard, described as a hangout for pimps, hookers, and drug dealers, cruising the area in a rental car. He was soon in the custody of the Miami Police, though, and according to a report, "While conducting an undercover prostitution sting, defendant drove up ... and offered the officer $40 for (oral sex)." A couple of dozen other accused Johns were caught up in the net too, according to CBS Sports Line, along with a murder suspect from Pennsylvania. Robinson's car was impounded, and the super star was released after signing a written promise to return for trial.

   Maybe that's why he goofed on Sunday's 80-yard TD play from Elway to Rod Smith.

   Robinson's arrest -- and remember, he's innocent until proven guilty -- underscores the problematic situation in both the NFL and the larger "sports world" between public religiosity and what is otherwise a secular game, be it football, baseball, the hoops or some other scoring contest. Sports is considered the great leveler potentially uniting all classes and segments of society. After all, the pro leagues especially are light years ahead of the wider society when it comes to the color line, though work remains to be done in terms of women's' athletics. Sports is considered something which everyone can participate in as either fan or player, regardless of your color, religion, ethnic background, or neighborhood -- right? The sports world is supposedly neutral; only performance, ability and results count.

   But increasingly, pro sports along with their collegiate and amateur counterparts, have been transformed into a stage, better yet a pulpit. Some people object to the commercialization of the games; witness yesterday's half- time show which was dubbed the "such-and-such Insurance Half Time Presentation." The Budweiser blimp is overhead, people are glued to the set just to see those $1.6 million commercial spots for Apple Computers of Monster.com. Someone has to pay the bills, and like it or not sports is big money.

   It's also becoming a big religious forum, which is sure to offend many of the fans. Hours before allegedly heading down to Biscayne Boulevard in search of some Oval Office fun, Robinson had been honored with the Bart Starr Award from the Christian religious group Athletes in Action. The winner of that award is selected among NFL players for the person who displays the proper religious credentials and "high moral character." Athletes in Action is operated by evangelist Bill Bright, founder of the mammoth Campus Crusade for Christ, and is one of dozens of evangelical outreaches targeting professional and collegiate athletes.

   Increasingly, displays of religious fervor and belief are taking place whether on the gridiron, b-ball court or other athletic venues. It's obvious in the growing number of players who exploit prime-time coverage to bend a knee after a successful catch or interception, or point skyward after putting another six points on the board. It's apparent in the hasty yet conspicuous "prayer huddles" after the final whistle. You may have just tried to grind that quarterback or runner into so much raw, red meat a few minutes ago, but when the score is official, you're all "athletes for Christ" giving thanks to the The Man Upstairs.

   Religion and sports have always had a connection within the American experience as far back as when Billy Sunday -- diamond ball player turned evangelist/showman -- denounced the carousing, drinking and general hell- raising that characterized much of the game. Decades later, Vince Lombardi, a Roman Catholic, was known for taking his team to Sunday mass. Casius Clay, aka Mohammed Ali, became a member of the Nation of Islam at the height of his punching career. By today's standards, however, those were relative rare manifestations of religious fervor; by and large, fans got what they wanted, which was a match, face-off or battle on the field sans the proselytizing.

   In the early 1970s, sheets and banners reading "JOHN 3:16" began appearing in stadiums and arenas. And now, the culture war phenomenon of "in your face" religiosity and calls for moral purity have stormed onto the field or court. Players "thank god" for their successes, use the microphone as a pulpit; and no longer does the finger pointed skyward after a TD or home run mean "We're Number One." It has become a religious statement thanking the deity.

   Philadelphia Daily News writer Jim Nolan took all of this to task last week in a piece aptly titled, "Praise the Lord, Pass the Ball -- Pro Players Want You To Know: God Is The Coach." He dubs all of the religious theatrics on the field a "Godmercial," whether its coming from the lips of Reggie White, or some member of the controversial Champions for Christ, an Austin, Texas-based group whose membership rolls is laced with some of Sportsworld's leading players. For these religiously energized athletes, touchdowns, QB sacks, three-pointers and slam dunks are now credited not so much to hard work and savvy, but to The Man Upstairs. Human bias and selectivity are at work here, though. Observes Nolan, "Not everything, from a contract extension to a game- winning field goal, is lauded as God-given. To fumble is human. To catch the winning TD divine..."

   One critic of the "Godmercial" syndrome and player religiosity is humorist and TV host Joe Bob Briggs. Writing in a recent issue of the satirical religious magazine, "The Door," he asked, "Why is it, we might wonder, that celebrities who have been believers all of 10 minutes become the trumpets of salvation? Or should I say the paper party horns of salvation." Nolan quotes Briggs -- the host of TNT's hit "Monstervision" program -- taking Dallas Cowboys cornerback Deion Sanders for his "spiritual showboating." Advises Briggs, "KEEP YOUR DAMN MOUTH SHUT... The J-Man (Jesus) waited about 30 years before he opened his mouth..."

   It's one thing for sports heavyweights like Deion, or boxer Evander Holyfield or other Sportsworld heavies, to transmogrify themselves into pop- culture billboards for the Almighty and "share the good news" with paying fans. One characteristic of the sports world is that it is ideologically and religiously neutral; you don't head for the arena or stadium -- especially if you've paid the expensive ticket price -- expecting political statements and proselytizing. You do anticipate the entertainment of athletic prowess, confrontation and contestation. Americans pride themselves on a sports world which is "not political" (we point to the 1939 Nazi Olympics as an example of the worst) and which concentrates on the game. We go to see Mark hit, or Michael slam-dunk, or Ron run. Period. That standard, however, is being eroded in a growing wave of player religiosity and display. Nolan notes that it was eight years when a San Francisco '49-er tight end, Brent Jones, organized the first "prayer huddle" after his team faced off against Green Bay. The Packers, of course, were known for their religiosity during the Lombardi era; but "but Minister of Defense" Reggie White, an ordained preacher, carried that to new excess, and has offended many with his theological remarks on and off the field. Last March, in a guest appearance before the Wisconsin State Legislature, White insisted that "we as a people need to come together, and this nation needs to submit under God and his authority and denounce sin." Reggie also held forth other opinions, including his deity's displeasure with homosexuality. Communications giant CBS, which had White under consideration for a sports commentary job, backed off the deal as a result saying that the network had "a hard-and-fast policy against bias of all kinds..."

   At least in the National Football League, there is growing concern over the hold which some religion-based groups appear to have on players, and their lucrative bank accounts. Above the locker rooms in the corporate offices, agents and management executives are worried about the target which players, and their six and seven-figure salaries can become to unscrupulous faith-based organizations which, some charge, are even borderline cults. And what about the impact on the bottom line? A fan revolt hasn't set in yet, but some observers already consider player religious display to be bigoted, exclusionary and hypocritical. One psychologist told Nolan, "I am for the separation of church and sports... I see it (player religious display) as exclusionary," adding "Most of the public displays we see are not including everyone and I think sports is for everyone."

   "Kids should be able to have their heroes without religion being in the mix..."

   Last fall, word leaked out the the NFL's security division, was investigating the Texas-based group Champions for Christ. In leaking the story, the New York Times wrote: "Their concern? That playrerss may be giving an inordinate amount of money to the group..." The probe originally focused on Chicago Bears running back Curtis Enis, a CFC member, but quickly spread to another team, the Jacksonville Jaguars who "have similar concerns about some of their high-profile players..." The League also attempted to look into ties between Greg Ball, head of the Champions, and a man named Greg Feste, a "newly certified sports agent and a longtime benefactor of the ministry," according to CNN/Sports Illustrated. One concern -- that players, buoyed by newfound religious zealotry, may suddenly be dumping their traditional agents in favor of those approved by or linked to faith-based groups. Another is that agents linked to such ministries could persuade the players to make substantial and tax-deductible "offerings" to the ministry. The League also noted Feste's background as a bankrupt businessman who was fined over $250,000 by the National Association of Securities Dealers (NASD) before finding god and joining Champions for Christ.

   Players have insisted that CFC consists mostly of Bible study sessions; but some of the workshops are taught by Feste, who allegedly reminds the athletes of their Biblical obligation to tithe, or donate 10% of their income. That can translate into big bucks, as in the case of Jaguars offensive tackle Tony Boselli, and QB Mike Brunell. Both men praise the Champions for Christ and deny that their involvement has anything to do per se with football. Even so, their contributions to the organization last season -- based on their $5.4 million dollar combined salaries -- would come to a hefty $540,000. Says Boselli, "The Bible says to give a tithe, so I give 10% to the ministry of the church I'm part of..."

   Champions for Christ is just one of a slew of organizations, many of them relatively new, which are turning to athletes in hopes of recruiting new members. Nearly all of them are identified with an evangelical, "spirit filled," or fundamentalist tendency. They range from the relatively staid and conservative Fellowship of Christian Athletes, founded in 1954, to the more impromptu "ministries" founded by individual players or coaches. Islamic groups have also gotten in on the action. Heavyweight champ Mike Tyson was profiled in PR handouts for his recent conversion to Islam. While "Iron Mike" rarely uses his time in the press conference to praise the merits of his religion, another ring giant -- Evander Holyfield -- has embraced fundamentalist political causes, including the National Council on Bible Curriculum in Public Schools based in Greensboro, North Carolina. The group is heavily involved in the effort to introduce Bible verse reading and study in public school classrooms. Going up against Tyson in late 1996, Holyfield gushed to reporters, "I didn't just go in there myself to fight Mike -- I thank God. I prayed during training, I prayed when I got into the ring. I prayed when I was fighting him."

   Atheists certainly view these athletic players' displays of public religiosity to be absurd, even hypocritical. Does god reward his religious followers with extra points, TD's, baskets and other perks? What if opposing teams are praying? And management, coaches and players all know a more basic truth -- prayers are no substitute for tough workouts, strength training and flawless execution.

   On a symbolic level, most sports fans seem tolerant to a wide range of behaviors. Even in his Islamic "hellfire" days when he praised National of Islam founder Elijah Mohammed, most boxing enthusiasts acknowledged Muhammad Ali as "The Greatest." The Muslim's bizarre theology and warning of "white, blue-eyed devils" did not discourage the former Cassius Clay from embracing whites as friends, as in the case of broadcaster Howard Cossell. The fans have also managed to tolerate, even come to love the colorful Dennis Rodman. What about today's prayer huddles, kneeling running backs and upraised fingers pointing toward heaven? Fans may continue, for a while at least, to tolerate it, and will likely continue to judge their players on performance rather than religion or politics.

   Are the complaints that such religious outbursts and posturing is "exclusionary" valid? They may be. After all, when teammates recovered from revelations of Eugene Robinson's alleged behavior in downtown Miami, the Super Bowl bound pro may have received some extra consideration and support because of his faith credentials. Linebacker Henri Crockett insisted that he didn't believe that "Preacher" Robinson was soliciting hookers for oral sex, and Falcons coach Dan Reeves -- also a god invoker at victory time -- immediately cleared him to play against the Broncos. "Unfortunately, even as Christians, we do things wrong," lamented the coach.

   But how far does the public religiosity go? Reggie White exploited his status as a defensive great on the Packers Team to lecture the state legislature, and the public, with his bigoted, homophobic message. Are gay fans welcome at Lambeau Field? And while players may be behaving legally in expressing religious enthusiasm, are they being responsible and inclusive? Are they thanking fans for their support, or imposing a religious litmus test in the stands and bleachers? Only time will tell as "spirit filled' athletes push the envelope of public patience, tolerance, and plain common sense.

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