The cost of being (un)patriotic
Dear Editor,
In recent weeks, four of our most revered athletes have made the much-anticipated switch to Türkiye’s greener pastures. A move that has, unsurprisingly, stirred a cocktail of admiration, outrage, and pointed criticism among the Jamaican public.
It’s a daring exodus of patriots who we had fully expected to represent the country with humble pride at the upcoming World Championships and on the grandest stage of all, the Olympic Games.
Needless to say, those plans have now soured and expired, quickly becoming the hot topic of conversation within the Jamaican athletic community. The news gained international attention almost instantly, accompanied by the all-too-familiar satirical commentary on how little athletes — especially field athletes — receive in return for representing their country. Even athletes in the United States have jokingly hinted they would accept such lucrative deals in a heartbeat.
Which raises the million-dollar question: What does it truly cost to be patriotic?
Patriotism is often seen as a noble trait by the outsider. Going the proverbial extra mile in service to one’s country is culturally romanticised in Jamaica, especially by the average sports fan. But at what personal expense does that loyalty come? What must one sacrifice just to receive a symbolic pat on the back? Is there a consistently strong support system in place for their continued efforts?
I was of the view that if these athletes have limited fiscal resources to even make landfall at international events, then reliance on potential endorsement deals becomes not just necessary, but inevitable. When the athlete realises that the return on investment for representing his/her country is consistently low, it makes sense he/she would seek ventures to improve their financial footing.
Some may say the departed are “sell-outs” or scoff, “Dem fi gwaan, we have others to lean on.” But have we really taken the time to make a laser-like incision into the struggles and silent sacrifices they endure while performing at the highest level? According to Vroom’s Expectancy Theory, motivation is proportionate to the belief that hard work leads to a desirable outcome. If so, training to become a world-beater should lead to an easier livelihood, right? Perhaps. But so does strategically embracing serendipity when it presents itself.
In all fairness, athletes shoulder the same burdens of life as the rest of us — and then some. They’ve chosen a path to push their bodies to the brink, viewing their discipline not merely as passion but as a means of honest survival. In a volatile and fiercely competitive market like athletics, survival often means aligning one’s talent with the highest bidder. Their instinctive decision to pursue greener pastures is, in truth, a pragmatic one: to put food on the table and ensure their families are cared for.
The switch has prompted the Government to take measures aimed at developing and retaining elite athletes. However, do we truly have the resources to stop more from leaving? A US$500,000 price tag is bound to turn heads, no matter how patriotic the heart behind the uniform.
In the end, patriotism cannot pay the rent. For too long we’ve applauded from the sidelines, expecting athletes to give their all while offering little more than applause in return. Until we match our pride with real investment, until we make it worth their while to stay, the talent drain will continue. Not out of disloyalty, but out of necessity.
Dujean Edwards
Lecturer
University of the Commonwealth Caribbean
dujeanedwards@gmail.com