It was never intended for Harry Edwards to be taken seriously. In any case, not by the academic establishment. Many sociologists considered it, at best, a curiosity that sports—sweaty, commercial, spectacular sports—could reveal something significant about race, power, and the structure of American life. An embarrassment, at worst. Edwards has undoubtedly prevailed in that debate decades later, as he sits in front of a camera at San José State University to record what he refers to as his “Last Lectures.” And now, at eighty-three, he’s creating a new one: that what he created in lecture halls ought to be found in a lot more of them.
Earlier this year, UC Berkeley announced that it would start an undergraduate course based on those lectures. The course will be a twelve-part film series that covers American society from the Civil War to the present, using sport as a lens through which to understand everything from segregation to mass media to religion. Maybe that’s why the course doesn’t feel like a sports history course. Edwards integrated athletics into the greater American narrative because he thought it truly existed there, not on the periphery but rather in the core of this nation’s identity and transformation struggles.

It’s worth considering the true nature of this man. Edwards organized the Olympic Project for Human Rights in 1968 and convinced sprinters John Carlos and Tommie Smith to raise their gloved fists on the Mexico City medal podium. It went on to become one of the 20th century’s most popular photographs. He gave Colin Kaepernick advice years later after the quarterback’s choice to kneel during the playing of the national anthem caused the nation to divide into angry, boisterous factions. Edwards did not fall into these situations by accident. Long before most scholars would acknowledge it, he realized that the sports arena serves as a stage for the most intense conflicts in American culture, sometimes literally.
Observing the response to Berkeley’s new course gives the impression that the academic community is still catching up to something that Edwards realized fifty years ago. Sports participation enhances academic performance, fosters self-discipline, and develops social competency in ways that classroom instruction alone frequently fails to replicate, according to a growing body of research. According to a 2026 study, students who participated in sports programs reported feeling more a part of their school environments and demonstrated better time management. That is a significant discovery. It implies that separating athletics from serious academic study, viewing one as the reward and the other as the actual labor, may be completely incorrect.
The sociological literature is gradually confirming what Edwards appears to intuitively understand: sport is not a diversion from thought. It’s an alternative way of thinking. Students are compelled by the sociology of sport to consider who is allowed to participate, who is compensated, who is honored, and who is subject to law enforcement. These are not questions about sports. These are inquiries concerning America.
Twice a week, students will be guided through those recorded lectures by Dr. Brian Bedford, the course’s first lecturer and a former Cal football player who once sat in Edwards’ own classroom. That arrangement—a student becoming a teacher, continuing a tradition—has a subtle, poignant quality. It’s the kind of continuity that academic institutions discuss but seldom attain.
It’s still unclear if the course will go beyond Berkeley or if Harding’s high school program is still a feasible objective. There is uncertainty about funding. However, interest seems to be anything but. The NFL Foundation has pledged significant funding to guarantee that the lectures are accessible to students at historically Black colleges and universities, and Edwards is contributing personal items to enhance the curriculum. That particular detail is important. It implies that Edwards is doing more than just maintaining his legacy. He is purposefully making it more accessible to more people.
It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly, but there’s a sense that what Edwards has created is more of an argument than a course—about what education is really for, what questions should be asked in serious academic settings, and whether or not the students seated in those settings might comprehend the world more fully if we gave them more resources. As it happens, sports may be among the sharpest.
