The scene: the United Center in Chicago, home of the Chicago Bulls. The visiting team's lineup has just been introduced. The lights dim. Then, you hear it.
"Sirius" by the Alan Parsons Project.
Now, I've never been to the United Center, but I've watched enough Bulls games on TV to know that they play "Sirius" when introducing their starting lineup. The instrumental piece is well known in the world of sports (our own Tufts men's basketball team uses it as well), and every time I hear it, I think of the Bulls. There is no denying the connection between music and sports.
Think about it. When you go running or lift weights or do yoga, there is a certain music you like to listen to. I prefer more upbeat, fast-paced, sometimes techno-sounding songs for running (think Cascada), heavier/angrier metal for weight lifting (like System of a Down) and yoga ... I can't speak for, but I'd have to guess something more soothing than Cascada or System. There are of course, more traditional, classic sports songs. Who hasn't imagined training to the theme from "Rocky" (1976) or "The Final Countdown?"
The point is, whether on an individual or team level, music is ever present in the sporting world (let's also not forget, that Evans Clinchy's column title is "Dirty Water"). Music for starting lineups in basketball is just one, prominent example. Baseball players have recently been walking from the dugout to the batter's box or sprinting to the mound from the bullpen with their own theme songs. Trevor Hoffman's tune is "Hells Bells" by AC/DC, while both New York closers, Billy Wagner and Mariano Rivera, enter home games with Metallica's "Enter Sandman," which incited a frenzy in the New York media.
I encountered several Yankee fans who were livid over Wagner's use of "Rivera's song." I quickly pointed out that (a) it wasn't a big deal, and (b) Wagner actually used it before Rivera did. (This response did not help. Remember in my first column where I said Yankee fans are, for the most part, pleasant to talk to? This was not one of those times.)
There are songs that are specifically written about sports, such as John Fogerty's "Centerfield" (where all the lyrics have to do with baseball) or Nelly's "Heart of a Champion" (where Nelly raps about sports clich?©s and name drops famous athletes). These songs tend to be inferior to songs that simply allude to sports.
For example, take "We Will Rock You" and "We Are the Champions" by Queen. Neither song explicitly mentions any specific sporting event, but when talking about "We Are the Champions," lead singer Freddie Mercury once said, "I was thinking about football when I wrote it. I wanted a participation song, something that the fans could latch on to." Considering the iconic level the song has achieved, (both songs were in "The Mighty Ducks" [1992]), I think Freddie got what he wanted.
But my favorite music in sports moment did not involve a legendary rock band - or any professional band for that matter. The scene: once again, Chicago, in 1986. The Bears were on their way to the Super Bowl, and like any championship-bound team, recorded a rap song called the "Super Bowl Shuffle."
For anyone that hasn't seen the Shuffle, I encourage you to search the deepest depths of the Internet until you find it. With lyrics like "We're so bad, we know we're good/ Blowin' your mind like we knew we would," performed by football players while playing fake instruments, what's not to love? (This Bears team also featured William "Refrigerator" Perry, which adds to the hilarity.) Nearly every player got a chance to show his talent, or lack thereof, on the microphone, from quarterback Jim McMahon to safety Gary Fencik, who rapped "Buddy's guys cover it down to the bone/ That's why they call it the 46 zone."
I was hoping this year's Bears team would perform its own version of the Shuffle (imagine Brian Urlacher rapping and pretending to wail on a saxophone), but sadly, my dreams went unfulfilled. Maybe that's why they didn't win the Super Bowl.
In short, music is everywhere in sports, whether you use it to pump you up at the gym, or you hear it as your favorite sporting team bursts onto the field to its favorite fist-pumping, bleacher-stomping anthem, or Beethoven, if it prefers.
Indeed, certain songs just become so connected with a player or team or sport that it's hard to imagine the song by itself. If I ever do attend a Bulls game at the United Center, and I don't hear "Sirius" when the Bulls are introduced, something would just feel sacrilegious.
