The top 8 Jewish sports moments of 2022, from Sue Bird to Sandy Koufax
(JTA) — For Jewish sports fans, 2022 was a year of very high highs and particularly low lows.
The fall was dominated by an antisemitism scandal involving Brooklyn Nets star Kyrie Irving, who shared a link to an antisemitic film on Twitter and initially refused to apologize. Irving was suspended for eight games and brought increased attention to antisemitism, Black-Jewish relations and the Black Hebrew Israelite movement.
Off-court controversy aside, Jewish athletes enjoyed an All-Star caliber year in 2022. Jews across sports shined on the international stage at the Maccabiah Games, the Beijing Olympics and the World Cup. And as the sports world honored some of the best to ever do it — we’re looking at you, Sandy Koufax and Sue Bird — we also got a glimpse of the next generation of Jewish sports stars.
But in the end, here are the Jewish Sport Report’s top Jewish sports moments of the year — plus one to look forward to in 2023.
8. Jason Brown performed to “Schindler’s List” at the 2022 Beijing Olympics
Jason Brown skates during the Beijing 2022 Winter Olympic Games at Capital Indoor Stadium, Feb. 10, 2022. (Lintao Zhang/Getty Images)
The 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing kicked off the year in Jewish sports with flair. More than a dozen Jewish athletes from around the world competed in hockey, skating, snowboarding and more.
Perhaps the best known Jewish Olympian was Jason Brown, a figure skater who won a bronze medal at the 2014 Games in Sochi. Brown didn’t medal in 2022 (he finished sixth), but he did nab a personal best score, while skating to the theme from “Schindler’s List.”
Emery Lehman also represented the U.S. on the ice, winning a bronze team medal in speed skating.
7. Max Fried continued his MLB dominance
Max Fried flips the ball to first base during a game against the Philadelphia Phillies, July 25, 2022. (Mitchell Leff/Getty Images)
With four full seasons in Major League Baseball now under his belt, Atlanta Braves ace Max Fried has solidified himself as one of the sport’s best pitchers.
In 2022, Fried earned his first All-Star selection while winning his third straight Gold Glove award as the National League’s best defensive pitcher. He finished as the runner-up for NL Cy Young Award, given to the league’s best pitcher, and was named to the Second All-MLB team for the second straight year, by posting a 14-7 record in 2022 (identical to his 2021 output) with an MLB-seventh-best 2.48 earned-run average and 170 strikeouts.
The 28-year-old left-hander is a Los Angeles native, and his childhood hero was Dodger legend and fellow lefty Sandy Koufax, who had his own highlight this year — more below.
6. Greg Joseph made multiple historic game-winning field goals
Greg Joseph celebrates with teammates after kicking a game winning 61-yard field goal as time expired to beat the New York Giants 27-24 at U.S. Bank Stadium on Dec. 24, 2022 in Minneapolis, Minnesota. (Stephen Maturen/Getty Images)
The Minnesota Vikings owe much of their success this season to the right foot of Greg Joseph.
In Week 15, Joseph put a 40-yarder through the uprights to secure a 39-36 Vikings win over the Indianapolis Colts, capping off the largest comeback in NFL history. The Colts had led 33-0.
THE @VIKINGS CAP OFF THE LARGEST COMEBACK IN NFL HISTORY.
Then in Week 16, Joseph blasted a 61-yarder just as time expired to beat the New York Giants, 27-24. The kick was the longest of Joseph’s career, the longest in Vikings franchise history and likely the longest ever by a Jewish player.
5. Sue Bird brought her remarkable career to an end
Sue Bird drives to the basket against Team Japan in the final of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics in Saitama, Japan, Aug. 8, 2021. (Kevin C. Cox/Getty Images)
From her earliest college days to her final professional game in the WNBA, Sue Bird has been among the best of the best in any sport: She is a two-time NCAA champion, a four-time WNBA champion, a five-time Olympic gold medalist and a four-time FIBA World Champion. She is the all-time WNBA leader in assists, games played, minutes played, All-Star appearances and seasons played.
Bird announced in June that she would retire after the season, and her Seattle Storm lost in the playoff semifinals to the Las Vegas Aces, ending her 19-year career in the WNBA.
Bird, who obtained Israeli citizenship in 2006 in part so she could play for European teams, became a respected entrepreneur, activist and basketball executive even before her playing career ended, setting her up for a successful next chapter.
4. The sports world marked the 50th anniversary of the Munich massacre
Israeli fans at the infamous 1972 Olympics in Munich, Sept. 5, 1972. (Klaus Rose/picture alliance via Getty Images)
After a tense negotiation process, the Israeli families of the victims reached a compensation deal with Germany in time for the official 50th anniversary ceremony. Meanwhile, the Israeli marathon team won gold at the European Championships in Munich, and ESPN produced a documentary about Shaul Ladany, an Olympic racewalker who survived both the Holocaust and the Munich attack. The episode, reported and narrated by Jewish Emmy winner Jeremy Schaap, told the story of the massacre to a mainstream audience on the network’s “E:60” series.
3. Sandy Koufax was immortalized at Dodger Stadium
The new Sandy Koufax statue at Dodger Stadium is unveiled, June 18, 2022. (Jacob Gurvis)
Sandy Koufax’s legacy as the greatest Jewish athlete ever has never been in question. But this past summer, almost 60 years after the Hall of Fame pitcher sat out a World Series game to observe Yom Kippur, Koufax, now 86, was given one of his most meaningful tributes yet: a permanent statue at Dodger Stadium.
The Dodgers unveiled the Koufax statue — next to one of his former teammates, Jackie Robinson — with a pregame ceremony June 18, three years after the statue was originally announced. The unveiling had been postponed due to the pandemic.
Koufax’s Jewish identity — and his famous Yom Kippur sit-out — were highlighted at the ceremony alongside his many career accolades, which include three Cy Young Awards and three seasons each with more than 300 strikeouts and an earned run average below two.
2. Ryan Turell began his professional basketball career, with a kippah
NBA G League player Ryan Turell signs a fan’s yarmulke following his game with Detroit’s Motor City Cruise, Nov. 17, 2022. (Andrew Lapin/JTA)
Ryan Turell, the former Yeshiva University basketball phenom, took a big step toward his goal of becoming the NBA’s first-ever Orthodox player.
For Jewish fans in Detroit, Turell’s ascension has provided a boost of excitement and enthusiasm. And for the NBA organization, it created an opportunity to engage with the local Jewish community. The Pistons are offering kosher concessions at the Cruise arena and celebrated Jewish Heritage Night and Hanukkah this month.
1. The Maccabiah Games returned to Israel — with a special guest
Israeli President Isaac Herzog, President Joe Biden, and Israel’s caretaker Prime Minister Yair Lapid applaud and cheer as they attend the opening ceremony of the Maccabiah Games at Teddy Stadium in Jerusalem, July 14, 2022. (Ronen Zvulun/POOL/AFP via Getty Images)
The 21st Maccabiah Games, also known as the “Jewish Olympics,” took center stage in Israel in July.
Originally scheduled for 2021, the quadrennial international Jewish sports competition kicked off at Teddy Stadium in Jerusalem with an opening ceremony on July 14 — and U.S. President Joe Biden made an appearance, becoming the first American president to do so.
With 10,000 Jewish athletes from around the world convening for two weeks, there were plenty of stories to follow. Here are a few highlights:
Cody Decker playing for Team Israel in a 2016 World Baseball Classic qualifier game at MCU Park in Brooklyn, N.Y., Sept. 23, 2016. (Alex Trautwig/MLB via Getty Images)
Lastly, as the calendar turns to a new year, there is (at least) one major Jewish sports storyline on deck: the 2023 World Baseball Classic, which will take place in Miami in March.
A little‑remembered Gilded Age millionaire helped make milk safe for American kids through his ‘retail giving’
The 1844 edition of the widely used schoolbook written by William H. McGuffey, “Newly Revised Eclectic Fourth Reader,” includes a dialogue about the difference between “true and false philanthropy”:
Mr. Fantom: I despise a narrow field. O for the reign of universal benevolence! I want to make all mankind good and happy.
Mr. Goodman: Dear me! Sure, that must be a wholesale sort of a job: had you not better try your hand at a town or neighborhood first?
As the discussion continues, the lesson becomes clear. Mr. Fantom’s approach is too ambitious to accomplish much, while Mr. Goodman’s, if narrower in scope, was likely to be more useful in practice.
Nathan Straus made his mark in philanthropy after a successful career running the Macy’s department store. Library of Congress Image by
Many of Straus’ contemporary philanthropists were setting lofty goals for their giving. In oil magnate John D. Rockefeller’s case, it was promoting “the welfare of humanity throughout the world.” For steel tycoon Andrew Carnegie, it was “to promote the advancement and diffusion of knowledge and understanding.”
Straus pursued more mundane objectives that included championing milk pasteurization. Although his efforts are not as well known today as those of his more ambitious – and wealthier – counterparts, they accomplished a lot and showed that what might be called “retail giving” can have far-reaching effects.
Successful immigration story
The Straus family came to the United States from Germany in the 1850s during the first big wave of Jewish immigration. Lazarus Straus, Nathan’s father, followed a familiar path for Jewish immigrants at the time, beginning as a peddler and eventually establishing his own store in the small town of Talbotton, Georgia, where the members of his family were the only Jews.
He prospered, became a respected citizen and saw that his children received good educations, including in their religion.
Then the Civil War upended the family’s life, first by reviving antisemitic prejudices and then, eventually, by destroying the family’s business.
Starting anew in New York City, Lazarus and his older sons, Isidor and Nathan, began to sell imported china, glassware and other crockery to retailers in the Northeast and South. One was Rowland H. Macy, who had founded an eponymous store that was on the cutting edge of what Fisher calls a “retailing revolution.”
Macy’s innovations included stocking large inventories of many kinds of merchandise, competitive pricing, extensive advertising and providing a variety of services like public restrooms and a cafeteria to make shoppers’ experiences more pleasurable.
Aided by the rapid urban and economic growth of the late 19th century, the model flourished. Department stores displaced smaller, specialty shops. Other retail powerhouses, such as Bloomingdale’s and Lord & Taylor, soon competed with Macy’s.
The Straus family sold their wares at Macy’s. After Rowland H. Macy died, the Straus family became partners with its new owners. By 1896, the Strauses owned the store outright. And Macy’s was expanding: It bought another department store in Brooklyn and created a flagship building on Manhattan’s Herald Square, which Macy’s still occupies.
The landmark Macy’s department store in New York’s Herald Square opened in 1902 while Nathan and Isidor Straus ran the retailer. Library of Congress Image by
His philanthropy journey begins
While Isidor Straus oversaw the store’s internal operations, Nathan focused on the company’s external activities, such as purchasing, marketing and dealing with government and business leaders.
A third brother, Oscar, pursued a career as a politician and diplomat, eventually becoming secretary of commerce and labor under President Theodore Roosevelt and the first Jewish member of a presidential cabinet. Perhaps inevitably, this led to a series of public appointments for Nathan Straus.
However, as they became wealthier, Nathan and his wife, Lina, increasingly devoted their attention to a series of philanthropic projects.
In 1893, the U.S. entered a four-year economic depression, its worst until the 1930s. As unemployment in New York City rose, Nathan Straus used his merchandising skills to address the needs of the jobless and poor.
He created a number of “depots” near tenements and boarding houses that sold coal, food and fuel at discount prices. Fisher, Straus’ biographer, rightly calls these early examples of what is now known as “social entrepreneurship”: the application of business principles to solving social problems.
Making milk less deadly
As these efforts were getting away, Straus also launched what would become his major preoccupation: promoting pasteurized milk.
In New York City in the early 1890s, Fisher writes, “the annual mortality rate among children under five was about 15 percent,” or 18,000 infants and toddlers per year. A main cause was consuming raw milk, which, unless certified by inspectors, was likely not only to contain a variety of pathogens, such as tuberculosis bacteria, but spoil easily going from farm to table.
Although scientists had long known that heating could make milk safer, doctors and public health officials worried that sterilizing milk might also destroy its valuable nutrients.
Straus, who had lost one of his own children to what he believed was a milk-borne infection, built on his projects for the unemployed by working with New York social service agencies to develop pasteurization plants and infant-milk stations near low-income neighborhoods.
They sold sterilized and refrigerated milk at below-wholesale prices, or donated it to those who could not afford to pay. Businesslike efficiency kept costs low, as did donations. Multilingual ads publicized the product’s availability, doctors and nurses advised parents on child-rearing, and careful recordkeeping aimed at assessing the program’s health benefits.
Straus and his wife devoted much of their time and money to this work. In addition to establishing 297 milk stations in 36 cities, they also spoke and wrote widely about the merits of pasteurization.
By 1908, their efforts paid off when the U.S. Public Health Service endorsed pasteurization and state and local governments began requiring that milk sold in their jurisdictions be pasteurized. Raw milk remained available in many states, and debates over its safety continue to this day.
As a result of this and other Progressive Era measures, New York City’s health commissioner estimated that infant deaths dropped by two-thirds
during the first two decades of the 20th century, with similar declines elsewhere in the country.
The coastal Israeli city of Netanya was named after philanthropist Nathan Straus. Jack Guez/AFP via Getty Images Image by
Other causes
While most of Nathan Straus’ efforts occurred in the U.S., he used his trips to Europe for Macy’s to promote pasteurization on the continent.
During a 1904 visit, he toured the Mediterranean and stopped in Palestine, then part of the Ottoman Empire. Impressed by the early Jewish settlements and holy sites he saw, Straus became an ardent advocate for creating a Jewish homeland in the Middle East, an unusual position for a Jewish businessman of that era, according to Fisher.
On a subsequent trip, a broken leg kept Straus from returning to New York on the maiden voyage of the Titanic; his brother Isidor and sister-in-law Ida were not so fortunate.
In the U.S., Nathan Straus led Zionist organizations, while in Palestine, his chief contributions involved supporting a variety of health care and economic development activities, including Hadassah, the women’s health and community development organization founded by Henrietta Szold.
Nathan Straus’ achievements as a philanthropist are not widely known today because he did not create a grantmaking foundation that outlasted him, as Rockefeller and Carnegie did.
Instead, by the time of his death in 1931, Straus had donated much of his fortune. Fisher writes that Straus used to invoke an old Hebrew proverb: “Money given in health is gold. Money given in sickness is silver. Money given after death is lead.”
He also didn’t donate heavily to the burgeoning network of communal organizations set up to assist the growing population of Jewish immigrants, as did the financiers Jacob Schiff and Felix Warburg, who were also affluent Jewish immigrants from Germany.
As Fisher notes, this pattern of philanthropy resembles that of Straus’ friend – and pallbearer – Julius Rosenwald, the longtime head of Sears, Roebuck and Co. Both supported Jewish causes as well as major initiatives aimed at helping others: In Rosenwald’s case, it was schools for African American children in the South, while for Straus, it was milk pasteurization in New York City and beyond.
During and after World War I, they worked together to assist Jewish refugees in Europe. Fisher might have added that neither Straus nor Rosenwald sought much recognition for their work.
His thorough account should help give Straus the credit he deserves for his philanthropy. It should also show that donors do not have to aspire to “make all mankind good and happy” to make an important difference.
In many ways, Nathan Straus was an old-fashioned do-gooder, responding to the needs he saw with innovative solutions. As a result, he wound up accomplishing a lot of good.
“Emma,” a young Jewish woman who we met in 2019, didn’t belong to a synagogue. She didn’t have a Jewish partner. She didn’t observe Jewish rituals regularly. On most surveys about religion, she would not seem very engaged with Judaism.
But as Emma talked about what she did in her free time, a very different picture began to emerge. She visited Jewish websites and enjoyed listening to Jewish music. She read books about Jewish topics and had recently attended a retreat for young Jewish adults to learn Torah while also doing yoga.
She was highly invested in learning about Judaism, but she explored her identity without joining traditional institutions.
Most major surveys about religion ask whether someone belongs to a congregation, how often they attend services, whether they pray regularly and whether belief is important in their lives. Those measures help identify broad shifts, like the growing percentage of Americans who are religiously unaffiliated: the “nones.”
But many Americans’ religious lives, like Emma’s, are not disappearing; they are moving away from membership of traditional institutions. To understand what religion looks like in 21st-century America, researchers may need to ask different questions.
Learning through art
As scholars of Judaismand education, we have been exploring how people learn about religion beyond traditional places like synagogues, Jewish schools and summer camps. Between 2019 and early 2023, we spoke with hundreds of people and explored different leisure time activities to discover what people learn about Judaism and Jewishness through cultural arts.
We interviewed dozens of audience members at Jewish-themed shows on Broadway, such as “Leopoldstadt”and “Parade.” We attended Jewish concerts and asked attendees what they learned. We explored how social media communities offer spaces to talk about different Jewish topics, like what fans learned about ultra-Orthodox Judaism from watching the television show “Shtisel.”
‘Shtisel,’ an Israeli series about an ultra-Orthodox family in Jerusalem, ran for three seasons.
Our research revealed that there is a vibrant ecosystem of people learning about religion in their leisure time. Through the arts, both Jews and non-Jews encounter Jewish history, Jewish religious practices and representations of Jewish communities.
Screen and stage
Most people we spoke with told us that they felt meaningful connections to Judaism during activities that would rarely appear on a standard religion survey.
“Joan,” an unmarried woman in her 50s from Connecticut, told us that she was deeply invested in Judaism, but felt that synagogues and Jewish community centers were not welcoming to single people without families. Instead of joining a Jewish institution, she watched Jewish-themed TV shows and movies on Netflix, and joined social media communities to chat with other fans.
“Luis,” who lived in Boston but was born in Argentina, was a Sephardic Jew, a group that traces their ancestry and traditions to Jewish communities who once lived in Spain and Portugal. His wife was Ashkenazi, meaning her ancestors came from Central and Eastern Europe. She considered herself secular, and so the couple joined the Worker’s Circle, a nonreligious Ashkenazi institution rather than a synagogue.
Yet Luis loved deepening his knowledge of Sephardic culture, and he often attended concerts of music in Ladino, a Sephardic language related to Spanish, with other Sephardic immigrants.
American singer Sarah Aroeste writes and performs in Ladino.
For Joan and Luis, these activities were not peripheral to their Jewish lives. Rather, they were central avenues for learning and community. We interviewed hundreds of Jews who told us that cultural experiences were opportunities to reflect on Jewish practices, explore questions of belonging, connect with family histories and find friends with common interests.
New questions
Some aspects of these patterns were distinctive to Judaism. Historically, many Jews have understood Judaism to be a cultural world, and not only a theological tradition. Learning about cultural dimensions of Judaism has long been part of Jewish education.
The broader phenomenon of informal learning, though, extended far beyond a single tradition. Across America, increasing numbers of people learn about religion through media, cultural productions and digital networks. Christians may study biblical themes through podcasts, online discussion groups or religious influencers. Muslims may participate in online learning communities that connect believers across the world.
The challenge for religion researchers, then, is not simply to determine whether engagement with religion is rising or falling. Rather, it is to develop more nuanced ways of understanding how people explore religious themes and practices, beyond traditional institutions. Only then can we more fully understand how contemporary Americans actually live their religious lives.
