Monday, January 10, 2005
The Sports Goddess
As I've beat into the ground now, I don't believe in God, and actually, I don't really believe in karma or other mysticism. Some people use the fact that there doesn't seem to be any natural justice in the world as a reason why they don't believe in God. They claim that if there was a God, he would never allow murderers to exist, or poverty to be so widespread, or Ashlee Simpson to have a job. And while I don't subscribe to that logic, I really think that these people at least start believing in a God of sports, because somehow, justice always seems to be served in that realm.
The cases are too numerous to just be coincidental. In sports, there does seem to be a higher power at work. I'll start with the Yankees, just to get them out of the way. In 1996-2000, they built their team the proper way. Most of their superstars were homegrown (Jeter, Rivera, Bernie, Pettitte, Posada), and those that weren't were solid players who filled in the gaps (Brosius, Tino, O'Neill). They were rewarded with multiple World Series. But after 2000, things went off the rails, and instead of building their team from the inside, they started spending even more exorbitant sums of money, and abandoned the path that had led them to glory. Uh-oh. Sports God frowns upon such largesse! And so they signed Mussina and then Giambi and then Sheffield and then Brown and then A-Rod and now Randy Johnson...and they haven't won since 2000. Coincidence? They've certainly had the talent. But they were beat by the Diamondbacks and Marlins and Angels and, of course, the Red Sox. Clemens and Pettitte jumped ship last year. Brown punched a wall. Giambi stopped taking steroids and dwindled to nothing. A-Rod tried to cheat in front of a national audience. (And we're not even going to talk about the curse of A-Rod - the highest paid baseball player whose arrival hurts a team, and whose departure helps a team.) I think Sports God is trying to send a message. This latest defeat in the ALCS, against the hated rival Red Sox, in the greatest postseason collapse in baseball history, was quite a punishment. But the Yankees haven't learned, trading away almost all of their prospects this offseason, and signing Wright and Pavano and Johnson. Do not toy with the Sports God, foolish ones! I wonder what ignominious fate awaits these non-believers. I think they'll be up 3 games to none against the Cubs in the World Series, up by 15 in the 9th inning 4 games in a row, and blow it. Maybe then they'll learn.
Ok, so clearly the Yanks are in the process of learning sports piety the tough way, but what about individual players? Well, for years, in football, the Cowboys were even worse than the Yankees, who by and large, have relatively moral players on their team. But the Cowboys in the 1990s, labeled "America's team" for no other reason than that they won a few times, were the biggest collection of junkies, thugs, and wife-beaters that you could find. And their ringleader was Michael Irvin, a very talented wide receiver, but also the junkiest of the junkies. He was above the law, both in Texas, and on the field. He would push off and grab and fight with the corners that were covering him, and then whenever he was called for a flag (which was rare), he would bitch and moan incessantly. (Think of him as a pioneer, given that almost all current receivers in the NFL do this now. Although, three of the best receivers ever are also the most humble and honorable men in the sport: Jerry Rice, Art Monk, and Marvin Harrison.) In the real world, the best (but certainly not the only) example of his evilness occurred when he was arrested at a hotel room, where he was found with strippers and sex toys and drug paraphernalia. Upon his arrest, he said to the officer, "Don't you know who I am?", to which the officer responded, "Yes, I do". To his credit he was probably high. Alas, the Sports God reared his (actually, come to think of it, the Sports God is most likely female) ugly head, and on October 10, 1999, Irvin broke his neck while playing a game, leaving him temporarily paralyzed. This ended his career, and while far be it from me to wish pain upon another person, Irvin's still doing fine, spouting off periodically as a commentator. Don't worry - we're pretty sure he can still obtain drugs if he wants to.
Fortunately, there are tons of more recent examples. Terrell Owens is the most obnoxious (and talented, unfortunately) receiver in the NFL, consistently berating teammates and performing ridiculous TD celebrations designed to humiliate his opponents. It was widely thought that him coming to Philadelphia would bring them the Super Bowl title they had been so close to each of the past three years. But trifle not with the Sports Goddess, T.O.! At the end of the regular season, Mr. Owens suffered an ankle injury that is going to put him out for the remainder of the playoffs. He claimed that if they make the Super Bowl he'll be back (to get all the glory without doing the work, obviously), but hopefully the Sports Goddess's wisdom will see fit to make sure that they don't even get that far.
Of course, Philadelphia faces Minnesota this week in the playoffs, and on that team they have their own miscreant, Randy Moss. Unlike Owens, who is a malevolent, calculating jerk, Moss is really just a petulant teenager trapped in the body of a lanky, skilled wide receiver. He's done his own share of stupid things, like admitting that sometimes he doesn't play his hardest, or walking off the field before the end of a game the other week, or hitting a police officer with his car. So, ideally, what will happen is that Philly will kick the crap out of Minnesota this week, and then someone (St. Louis? Atlanta?) will beat Philly in a heartbreaker in the NFC Championship the next week, for their fourth straight NFC Title Game loss.
But, really, who knows how it will all go down? Maybe Philly will make the Super Bowl this time, and T.O. will drop the game-winning catch in the end zone. Loudmouth and cheap-shot artist Warren Sapp is now languishing in Oakland. Self-centered Sammy Sosa was outshined by Mark McGwire, and the Cubs are now doing everything in their power to get rid of him. Barry Bonds's flirtation with steroids might cost him the Hall of Fame, just like Pete Rose's transgressions cost him his shot. The Sports Goddess works in mysterious ways, so just have faith.
The cases are too numerous to just be coincidental. In sports, there does seem to be a higher power at work. I'll start with the Yankees, just to get them out of the way. In 1996-2000, they built their team the proper way. Most of their superstars were homegrown (Jeter, Rivera, Bernie, Pettitte, Posada), and those that weren't were solid players who filled in the gaps (Brosius, Tino, O'Neill). They were rewarded with multiple World Series. But after 2000, things went off the rails, and instead of building their team from the inside, they started spending even more exorbitant sums of money, and abandoned the path that had led them to glory. Uh-oh. Sports God frowns upon such largesse! And so they signed Mussina and then Giambi and then Sheffield and then Brown and then A-Rod and now Randy Johnson...and they haven't won since 2000. Coincidence? They've certainly had the talent. But they were beat by the Diamondbacks and Marlins and Angels and, of course, the Red Sox. Clemens and Pettitte jumped ship last year. Brown punched a wall. Giambi stopped taking steroids and dwindled to nothing. A-Rod tried to cheat in front of a national audience. (And we're not even going to talk about the curse of A-Rod - the highest paid baseball player whose arrival hurts a team, and whose departure helps a team.) I think Sports God is trying to send a message. This latest defeat in the ALCS, against the hated rival Red Sox, in the greatest postseason collapse in baseball history, was quite a punishment. But the Yankees haven't learned, trading away almost all of their prospects this offseason, and signing Wright and Pavano and Johnson. Do not toy with the Sports God, foolish ones! I wonder what ignominious fate awaits these non-believers. I think they'll be up 3 games to none against the Cubs in the World Series, up by 15 in the 9th inning 4 games in a row, and blow it. Maybe then they'll learn.
Ok, so clearly the Yanks are in the process of learning sports piety the tough way, but what about individual players? Well, for years, in football, the Cowboys were even worse than the Yankees, who by and large, have relatively moral players on their team. But the Cowboys in the 1990s, labeled "America's team" for no other reason than that they won a few times, were the biggest collection of junkies, thugs, and wife-beaters that you could find. And their ringleader was Michael Irvin, a very talented wide receiver, but also the junkiest of the junkies. He was above the law, both in Texas, and on the field. He would push off and grab and fight with the corners that were covering him, and then whenever he was called for a flag (which was rare), he would bitch and moan incessantly. (Think of him as a pioneer, given that almost all current receivers in the NFL do this now. Although, three of the best receivers ever are also the most humble and honorable men in the sport: Jerry Rice, Art Monk, and Marvin Harrison.) In the real world, the best (but certainly not the only) example of his evilness occurred when he was arrested at a hotel room, where he was found with strippers and sex toys and drug paraphernalia. Upon his arrest, he said to the officer, "Don't you know who I am?", to which the officer responded, "Yes, I do". To his credit he was probably high. Alas, the Sports God reared his (actually, come to think of it, the Sports God is most likely female) ugly head, and on October 10, 1999, Irvin broke his neck while playing a game, leaving him temporarily paralyzed. This ended his career, and while far be it from me to wish pain upon another person, Irvin's still doing fine, spouting off periodically as a commentator. Don't worry - we're pretty sure he can still obtain drugs if he wants to.
Fortunately, there are tons of more recent examples. Terrell Owens is the most obnoxious (and talented, unfortunately) receiver in the NFL, consistently berating teammates and performing ridiculous TD celebrations designed to humiliate his opponents. It was widely thought that him coming to Philadelphia would bring them the Super Bowl title they had been so close to each of the past three years. But trifle not with the Sports Goddess, T.O.! At the end of the regular season, Mr. Owens suffered an ankle injury that is going to put him out for the remainder of the playoffs. He claimed that if they make the Super Bowl he'll be back (to get all the glory without doing the work, obviously), but hopefully the Sports Goddess's wisdom will see fit to make sure that they don't even get that far.
Of course, Philadelphia faces Minnesota this week in the playoffs, and on that team they have their own miscreant, Randy Moss. Unlike Owens, who is a malevolent, calculating jerk, Moss is really just a petulant teenager trapped in the body of a lanky, skilled wide receiver. He's done his own share of stupid things, like admitting that sometimes he doesn't play his hardest, or walking off the field before the end of a game the other week, or hitting a police officer with his car. So, ideally, what will happen is that Philly will kick the crap out of Minnesota this week, and then someone (St. Louis? Atlanta?) will beat Philly in a heartbreaker in the NFC Championship the next week, for their fourth straight NFC Title Game loss.
But, really, who knows how it will all go down? Maybe Philly will make the Super Bowl this time, and T.O. will drop the game-winning catch in the end zone. Loudmouth and cheap-shot artist Warren Sapp is now languishing in Oakland. Self-centered Sammy Sosa was outshined by Mark McGwire, and the Cubs are now doing everything in their power to get rid of him. Barry Bonds's flirtation with steroids might cost him the Hall of Fame, just like Pete Rose's transgressions cost him his shot. The Sports Goddess works in mysterious ways, so just have faith.
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