An unexpected consequence of racial barriers falling in football is that it has become increasingly difficult to decide which team to support. If different teams had won in the final round of the NFL playoffs, two African-American quarterbacks would be competing against each other in Super Bowl XXVI next Sunday: Donovan McNabb of the Philadelphia Eagles and Kordell Stewart of the Pittsburgh Steelers. And deciding which one to root for wouldn’t be easy.

As an aspiring quarterback at Druid High School in Tuscaloosa, Ala., during the early 1960s, it was an easy choice: I always pulled for the team that had the Black quarterback. Major universities in the South, including the University of Alabama in my hometown, were all-White, so I looked North for role models who looked like me.

The first African-American quarterback to capture my attention was Sandy Stephens of the University of Minnesota. He became the first Black All-American quarterback in 1961 and I saw him every chance I got. But Stephens, like most Black quarterbacks of his era, had to go even farther north, to the Canadian Football League, to get a chance to play quarterback in the pros. It was a path that Warren Moon would later take before getting an opportunity in the National Football League.

The first Black QB to play in the NFL was Willie Thrower, who appeared in a 1953 game when I was only six years old. The first Black quarterback I remember seeing play in the pros was Marlin Briscoe of the Denver Broncos, then a member of the old American Football League. That was in 1968 and by the next year Briscoe had been converted to a wide receiver, first for the Buffalo Bills and later the Miami Dolphins.

I also remember when James Harris, a product of Grambling, started for the Rams when they were in Los Angeles in 1974 and ’75; he won Most Valuable Player honors in the 1975 Pro Bowl. But Ron Jaworski and Pat Haden were promoted ahead of Harris and that was the end of his days as a starter. Joe “Jefferson Street” Gilliam Jr. of Tennessee State University suffered a similar fate. After leading the Pittsburgh Steelers to a record of 4-1-1 in at the start of the 1974 season, he was benched in favor of Terry Bradshaw.

Despite the early success of Black quarterbacks, there was still the perception among some NFL owners that African-Americans, in the words of former baseball executive Al Campanis, “lacked the [intellectual] necessities” to play such a coveted position.

Doug Williams ended that nonsense for good when, though injured, he threw four touchdown passes in one quarter, leading the Washington Redskins to a come-from-behind victory in the 1988 Super Bowl.

Now, no one doubts the physical or intellectual ability of Black quarterbacks. They are among the marquee names in the NFL. In addition to McNabb and Stewart, they include: Daunte Culpepper of the Minnesota Vikings, Steve McNair of the Tennessee Titans, Michael Vick of the Atlanta Falcons and Aaron Brooks of the New Orleans Saints. Even Brooks’ backup, Jeff Blake, is Black.

With nearly half of the 31 NFL teams using a Black quarterback at starting or in backup roles, I thought I could finally relax and root for a team simply because I admire their wide-open offense, like the St. Louis Rams, or daunting defense, like the Baltimore Ravens.

But the NFL threw me for a loop by doing what other pro sports had done years ago—hiring Black coaches. Bill Russell became head coach of the NBA’s Boston Celtics in 1966. Frank Robinson led the way in baseball in 1975—28 years after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier as a player.

In a game where almost 70 percent of the players are African-Americans, the NFL didn’t hire its first Black head coach until the Oakland Raiders elevated its offensive line coach and former All-Pro lineman Art Shell in 1989 (Fritz Pollard served as a player coach in 1923 to a forerunner team of the NFL). Shell served until 1995, the same year the Philadelphia Eagles hired Ray Rhodes as its head coach.

Last year, there were three Black head coaches in the NFL: Tony Dungy at Tampa Bay; Herman Edwards, a Dungy protégée, at the New York Jets; and Dennis Green in Minnesota. Before he was fired at the end of this season, Green made it impossible not to root for the Vikings. As head coach, Green had a Black quarterback (Culpepper), a Black offensive coordinator (Sherman Lewis) and a Black defensive coordinator (Emmit Thomas). Still, there were questions: Does one pull for the White coach who has a Black quarterback? A Black coach who has a White quarterback?

Now, there is yet another wrinkle. With Tony Dungy moving from Tampa Bay to take over the Indianapolis Colts, African-Americans sports figures are dominating a state that was once a breeding ground for the Ku Klux Klan. Isiah Thomas is coach of the Indiana Pacers, Tyrone Willingham is the new head football coach at Notre Dame, Mike Davis is head of an Indiana University basketball team once coached by Bobby Knight and Sharon Clark is the head volleyball coach at Butler University.

How does one root for a state?