The Weird World of Sports

I am at a loss for words.

On the heels of one of the weirdest weeks in sports, I’m not sure where to begin or what to say. Not a great way to start a column. Now, I probably need to tread carefully over some of these issues, seeing as how they involve animals. People, I’ve found, are rather intense about the treatment of animals.

I work for one of the three national sports networks in Canada, so when I go to work there is a constant banter about the various headlines in sports, should they be large enough to warrant a debate. As it stands, the Mike Vick dog fighting-dog killing-it’s my house but I was not aware scandal is a hot-button topic around the office. I myself am not a lover of animals, and while I recognize that what happened to these animals is surely a horrible act of intolerable cruelty, I can’t say that I expected the outcry from everyone I spoke too.

“He should be killed.” I sat there, mouth gaping, at the words from one of our co-workers. He was dead serious. A lover of dogs, he explained to me that he couldn’t ever have any sympathy or patience for someone who would maim, kill or bet on animal ferocity. For this man, Vick’s crime was well worth Capital Punishment.

I waited until there were more people in the room, which would allow me to observe what the general populace feels about this issue, and also to find out if I am, in fact, heartless. I brought it up casually with five or so people in the room. The original guy went off again, with the same rant, and I was a little surprised to see all the heads in the room nodding along fervently.

People are mad. And they should be. What Mike Vick has (allegedly) been a part of is a horrible, disgusting thing. And I will never understand Mike Vick. Just like I will never understand Pacman Jones, or Tank Johnson. Nor will I understand Stephen Jackson or Ron Artest. Or John Rocker, for that matter, but I don’t think any needs to try and understand John Rocker, because he probably made himself perfectly clear.

What I’m trying to say is this: What could possibly possess these men, with all that they have and all the privilege they hold, to act so foolishly? To have such little foresight? How can these amazing physical specimens, capable of leaving us breathless with their athletic prowess (maybe not Tank, though he would likely leave you breathless in a egg-roll eating competition. Come to think of it, he should take a run at Kobayashi while his confidence is shattered), use such obviously poor judgement?

Now, a hindrance in this process of understanding the aforementioned players might be my upbringing. Being upper-middle class, white, AND Canadian might give me a certain, well, slant. I can’t claim to understand the upbringing of each of the players I’ve mentioned, but to be fair to the upper-middle class suburbanites out there, I’ve never tried too. I have seen MTV, but I never tried to figure out what a ‘Magic Stick’ is, nor have I shopped in the ‘Candy Shop.’

Hip-hop culture is dominating the airwaves, and I remember towards the end of high school, it began dominating the hallways. I should clarify; it wasn’t actual hip-hop culture. It was the upper-middle class version. So people bought team jersey’s and the obligatory corresponding team cap. They drove the SUV’s their parents purchased, and while driving them, blared the music as loud as they could and ice-grilled anyone who dared look at them funny. It was a strange time.

What I fail to understand, is how these athletes fail to see what they’ve overcome. With their accomplishments, there seems to be a lack of awareness accompanying it. And yes, I realize it’s a few bad apples, as they say, spoiling it for the whole bunch, as they say. But it baffles me. It just doesn’t make sense to work your whole life to accomplish a goal (make the NBA or NFL), actually be one of the lucky ones who makes an impact in their sport (thus earning millions of dollars), and then fail to realize that acting like a misinformed teenager is a bad career move.

Luckily, because I’m not a world-class athlete, I’ll never understand these trials. I think a good reality television show would be to give Chad Gibbs several million dollars and then observe whether or not the money changes him. Would he, like Stephen Jackson, stand outside of strip clubs and firing a gun into the air? I feel that there is a good chance.

I need to move on.

The other strange (and unfortunate) occurrence this week was the news of veteran NBA official Tim Donaghy’s point shaving scandal. This story sounds like it’s right out of a Hollywood movie. We have mafia involvement, gambling addiction and high-profile scandal. Donaghy has been betting on NBA games, including games that he was officiating, in order to pay off debt to mafia loan sharks.

Aside from being a public relations nightmare for David Stern, this is genuinely one of the most bizarre things I’ve ever heard in all my years of watching sports. The Monica Seles stabbing, the Steve Bartman misadventure and Malice at the Palace were all beyond what the imagination would warrant, but this is landmark. This moment will define the NBA for years to come. From this point forward, every suspect call in NBA basketball will be met with a comment referencing the Tim Donaghy scandal.

Bill Simmons has already written about it (I haven’t read his piece yet as I’m saving it for work on Monday), and the details are continuing to leak out. Stern has been quiet on the issue aside from his comment saying that the league will co-operate, but he must be sitting up all hours of the night banging his head against the wall. Just moments ago he was ushering in the Oden/Durant era (though Vegas Summer league certainly slowed the hype machine), and now he’s stuck with the fallout of the league’s severely damaged integrity.

The creepy part is, and I’m not even going to joke about this, is that Donaghy’s life is now likely in danger. I’m thinking you likely don’t out the mafia without facing some sort of dire consequences. As time goes on, this story will likely only get stranger.

In the last month we’ve had a wrestling murder-suicide, a dog fighting ring, pre-emptive suspensions in the NBA and NFL and are on the cusp of the most hated man in baseball breaking its most beloved record (okay, maybe Joe D’s record is the most beloved).

Who says the Summer in sports is boring?