So here I was, on the cusp of witnessing history last Tuesday, when my power went out.

I was one of thousands locally to get left out of the national celebration that was the inauguration of President Barack Obama. To be honest, it kind of threw me into a panic. It was like the time the Emergency Broadcast System interrupted the bottom of the ninth of Game 7 of the 2004 American League Championship Series, except the cable kicked in again before the ground ball to Pokey.

On Tuesday, unfortunately, the TV started to work again just before that, uh, inaugural poem.

Like CMP couldn’t have waited another five minutes to turn the power back on.

At least my hour of darkness allowed me some time to contemplate how this country went from treating blacks as second class citizens to electing a black President in less time than it took the Cardinals to play for an NFL championship. We’ve come a long way in a relatively short time, and it’s an indisputable fact that sports was the foot on the accelerator.

Growing up in rural Maine at a time where diversity meant switching your shampoo from Prell to “Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific!,” about the only faces of color I saw were on the television. With a few exceptions, the fictional characters were stereotypes. But I wasn’t paying much attention to Jimmie Walker anyway. The men that were being beamed into my living room on a nightly and weekly basis were Jim Rice, Andre Dawson, Walter Payton, Jerry Rice, Julius Erving and K.C. Jones.

Aside from my parents, these men and men like them were the biggest influences on shaping my racial attitudes. As unfortunate as that is on the surface, as Bill Belichick says, it is what it is, and there are many like me in northern New England and other sections of the country.

But you don’t need to grow up in a lily-white state to live in a racially homogenized shell. For many white Americans, the only thing to contradict the stereotypes they were taught or saw in the media was sports, especially during the era of segregation. And once a nation could bear witness to Jackie Robinson’s nobility, Bill Russell’s intellectual leadership, Bob Gibson’s uncompromising competitiveness, Henry Aaron’s power and grace, and Jim Brown’s relentlessness, Jim Crow didn’t stand a chance.

Physical barriers started to crumble, but invisible ones remained. Once again, sports led the way. Red Auerbach installed the first all-black starting lineup and the first black head coach (Russell). Althea Gibson, Arthur Ashe and Lee Elder opened up new sports to their race. Then black athletes started becoming national and international icons. Once Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods became heroes to several generations of children, black and white, voting for a black person for president became a question of when, not if.

Slowly, blacks have ascended into front office and ownership roles and become league and union executives. But sports still has many flaws when it comes to race. The dearth of black head coaches in college football would be laughable if it weren’t so shameful.

The media continues to perpetuate stereotypes by comparing blacks to blacks and whites to whites. Wes Welker reminds some announcer of Tim Dwight rather than Troy Brown. Kevin Garnett is touted as Russell-like, but if you described his game without mentioning his name to most hardcore hoops fans, they would more likely think you were talking about Dave Cowens.

Athletes are still too often viewed through the prism of race: Black athletes are successful because they’re athletic or gifted. White athletes are successful because they’re smart or work hard.

But the stereotypes are dwindling because of sports, not in spite of them. Nobody even snickered when our first black president announced he was building a basketball court in the White House. If anything, it makes him more appealing to those of us who are suspicious of any politician’s authenticity.

Frankly, the only people more skeptical than yours truly about President Obama are the right-wing nuts on talk radio and Fox News. I find all of the fawning over him by the media and his many obsequious followers unsettling. Living Colour’s “Cult of Personality” keeps popping into my head every time I see a “Hope” poster, the “O” logo, or the “Change” slogan.

But if Obama has eclipsed the Kobe Bryants (ugh) and Michael Vicks (double-ugh) as a role model for this generation and even more to follow, sports will have done its job, and should be damned proud of it.

Randy Whitehouse is a staff writer who can be reached [email protected]