Skeptical and Cynical

I wonder these days if there is anyone else who feels as bummed by the Olympics right now as I do.  It doesn’t mean I don’t like them, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t root for the US to win. I feel torn…skeptical, and looking at what I see as a dirty world with a cynical eye. I know that the Olympic virtue is all about celebrating athletic achievement at the highest level, man against man, country against country.  I remember years in the past where the Olympics were everything, and for athletes in many sports, this is the pinnacle of sporting achievement.

I hate the fact that when I look at the Olympics now, perhaps more than ever, I don’t see sport in its purest form. I see what I consider real possibilities of doping at its highest.  Mind you, I have no real evidence to base this on.  I am not relying on past positive drug tests, and I am not basing my suspicions on heresay. I am basing my thoughts on past circumstances, where when I celebrated winning, only to find out later that was was celebrated was in fact false. I remember when Ben Johnson got busted in 1988, and thinking how awful that was, and that it couldn’t get worse than that.  I feel like in the 20 years since then, just when I think things can’t worse in sport, they have.

I have always felt like I am an optimist when it comes to sport.  I thrive on understanding history, and trying to place contemporary athletes into the proper context.  I love the feeling that I get when I believe I am witnessing true greatness, athletes and events that will stand the test of time.  When I grew up watching guys like Joe Montana and Michael Jordan, I knew that I watching witnessing some of the best of all time in their sports.  I remember watching Carl Lewis, and later Michael Johnson breaking records and winning gold medals.  I remember thinking that their feats would find their lasting places in the annals of track & field history.  I remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard that Greg LeMond had won the 1989 Tour de France on the last day when no one would have predicted it. There was a time when I could watch sports of almost any type, and not wonder if it was too good to be true. If I saw it, it must be true.

Unfortunately, over the last twenty years, this has eroded. I have become what I always argued against.  I am becoming someone who questions which athletes are clean, and which feats are doped…or when the fans (like me) are being duped. I absolutely hate this feeling.  I feel like half of the games, races or events that I see nowawadays should be followed if not by an asterisk, at least by a question mark. I hate the fact that I do my own internal judgement as to who is for real, and who is not. I feel like I have been burned in the past, and I am tired of that.  I will admit that I was very much in Marion Jones’ corner back in the early 90’s.  She is an American who was kicking ass.  She was fast, strong, beautiful and a winner…a sporting and marketing dream.   I remember thinking that all of the allegations I heard surrounding her had to be false.  She had a doping ex-husband, but that she wouldn’t do anything….why should she, she already had it all. I was wrong.

I remember pulling for Barry Bonds to break records.  I didn’t care that he was an asshole, and I didn’t care that the pictoral evidence clearly showed that he had morphed.  There was a time when I though that if you work hard enough, you could transform your body.  I had rooted for Mark McGwire who was exponentially more likeable, to break the single season home run record.  I reason that records are really made to be broken, and you just hope that the person who breaks them is someone who you can reasonably support and admire, and that they are doing it legitimately.  Again…I was wrong.

I stood behind Tyler Hamilton and I supported Floyd Landis when they both were found positive for doping.  Cheating was always something that they other guy did…the foreigners.  (Ignore the previous two paragraphs). When Americans were caught, I looked for the procedural errors, hoping that they would be found innocent, at least on a technicality.  These were guys whom I admired and rooted for….they were the perrenial underdogs who had made it to the top.  In the end, I am convinced that whatever the reason, and regardless of the arguments made and the denials given…they were the same desparate men that the Europeans are….the East Germans of the 1970s, the Russians of the late 1980’s, the French cyclists and the Chinese distance runners of the 1990’s.  They were cheaters, probably products of a system, but highly visible symbols or what happens when you roll the dice and get caught.

I guess that I have gotten to the point where I am not always convinced that it is innocent until proven guilty, as it comes to sport. It really sucks, because I don’t believe that as it pertains to due process.  I really do believe in protecting the athlete from the organizing bodies, just as I believe in protecting the rights of the individual against the judicial system.  I just feel like when the same denials are issued to explain things, I have been burned one too many times, and I am calloused against the arguments.  I am not sure that I believe solely in transparency of testing. It is a good step, but I know that organized dopers are always three steps ahead of the testing. (Please note that I am referring to a group or team of dopers, not necessarily the poorly informed individual who can’t even cheat right). I am no longer willing to accept that changes in technology or equipment can always be used to explain advancement in achievement. This has been suggested to be the cause for decades. When the Eastern Bloc was kicking Olympic ass in the 1970s and 80s, it was supposed to be due to advanced training methods. We know how that this wasn’t completely true.

I used to believe that all you needed was the will to train hard and the heart to endure in battle. Of course, some genetic talent helped, and proper nutrition, training techniques, etc.  There are alot of legal ways to succeed and to get ahead, and hey….sometimes a bit of luck helps. And in some sports (ie: baseball, basketball, football…your destiny can be affected by what your opponents do/don’t do). Unfortunately, for the sports I follow closest, where success is not just measured by a first place/gold medal, but by a time, distance, or mark, I am skeptical of not just who is winning, but how and by how much.

I will say it here and now, and I know that I am in the unpopular minority in America right now: I opnely and widely suspect that swimming has succombed to the same practices that track and cycling have endured for decades. I believe that it is widespread, and that (gulp) the Americans are at the heart of it. I hate to say it, but I have this huge fear that at some point in history, maybe after he retires and the endorsements are gone and the races are over, Michael Phelps will be called out for having been a cheater.  I don’t know if it is something he will have initiated himself, or if USA Swimming is to blame.  For the record, I have nothing against Michael Phelps as a person or as a celebrity. I WANT to root for him, and I want to join the rest of American in celebrating him and his quest for gold. I want to be able to say that he is becoming the best Olympian, before our eyes, and that he would be someone we could look back at years from now, and say that you remembered when he did that.  Unfortunately, I am too skeptical.

It is not just Phelps though, although if you are going to be at the forefront of the Olympics (and of his sport), that is the first place to look.  I started thinking about this several weeks ago, when I read about Dana Torres, the 41 year old swimmer who won the Olympic trials in some sort of record time, all after having a baby and two shoulder surgeries.  Common sense, if not science, should explain clearly that athletes don’t get better with advanced age (I don’t necessarily think that 30’s/early 40’s is old…unless you are an athlete).  You don’t get exponentially faster than you were 10 years earlier when you hit 40.  In the same way, I have to question it when world records seem to get not just beaten, but demolished on a weekly basis.

Maybe it is just me, but I always saw records as being difficult to beat, and when they did get beaten, they tend to be narrowly eclipsed, not demolished.  I know what the proponent say:  They get tested, often and openly; they have new suits; they used new techniques.  Okay…I get it…explanations are there.  They are the same ones used in the past. I have watched two races this weekend, both won by Phelps and the Americans: the miracle 4×100m upset on Sunday, and an individual 100m freestyle victory.  Both of them were gold medal performances, and both were world records. What gets me is that it is not just Phelps breaking records….the top 5 relay teams broke the world 4×100m record…an record set a day before by the USA “B” team…..the JV team broke the fastest time in the history of swimming without its fastest three legs…and five more teams were even faster the next day.  They are shaving multiple seconds off records which are usually decided by hundredths of a second.  To me….common sense dictates that I question this, and I guess that my response is contrary to what most of the American public is seeing.   Making I am jaded and beaten down.  I urge America to support Olympics and enjoy the spectacle….just don’t call this the greatest in history anymore…its not.  I really feel like I will forever be waiting for that proverbial shoe to drop, because I can only imagine that it will come, and come loudly.

I will address one question that my good friend posed to me…what do I think about Lance Armstrong?  If will damn everyone else, where does he stand? Can he fairly be seen as an exception to my argument? My answer is this….I don’t know anymore where I stand, and I don’t know that I want to know.  I watched him for years, and I know that he worked his ass off to be the best.  I don’t know if he cleanly beat the best that the world had to offer, dopers and all, or not.  I know that I took his side for seven years, because his story was inspirational, he was an American against the rest of the world, and the French could easily be seen as being sour grapes in light of the beating they took.  Whenever he was confronted with heresay or circumstantial evidence, he always found a way to explain it away.  I really really really do want to believe he is innocent, and that what I celebrated is for real, and that he was honest.  Now……..I just don’t know. I feel like in the best interest of the sport, it is probably best that the truth is never brought out in this respect.  If he came out as an admitted doper, it do serious damage to the sport in this country, and I really do believe that corporate sponsors would really think strongly before committing to this sport, when the most visible figure in the history of the sport was a confirmed cheat.

To clarify, I am not accusing Lance of cheating. I am assuming that he is being honest, but I am afraid that I would not be surprised if the truth came out some day if he were to confess…….I just hope that isn’t the case.  I am not sure that I am accusing swimming of being dopers….but I have very strong suspicions based upon patterns I have seen.  I am writing this not to damage anyone’s reputation or smear their achievements or dampen the celebration.  I am writing this because I feel awful that I don’t enjoy sport for pure sport value anymore. I no longer can believe many records, certainly if I can’t see the real human suffering. I feel cheated simply because I am overcome with feeling of anger and cynicsm, and the guilt of skepticism. It is a reflection of how sport has changed, and indeed how I have changed.  I hope to one day regain my joy and my trust in what I see and read….I just know that for now, while the country and the world regale in the heights of the Olympics this year…I can only shake my head and role my eyes, knowing that what we see is not always what is real.

With Induction comes reflection

Hail to the Redskins!!!! At long last, two of the classiest football players in the history of the game, if not all of professional sports, were inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame: Washington Redskins Darrell Green and Art Monk.  Both exhibited the dignity of men of true character, men who played the game the way it should have been.  Both were celebrated the way they deserved to, on the grandest stage, in front of all of the football world, and they went in together, to take their rightful places amongst the immortals of football.  For Monk, this was the end of a long journey, starting with as successful a career most wide receivers could hope for, breaking records, and being a key part on one of the winnegest franchises in the 80’s, and ending after 8 inexplicable years of not campaining openly for voting support.  For Green, it was an honor which was bestowed on the fastest man in the league, a true Redskin in every respect, and a man who played at the highest level for the same team for twenty years. Their careers were chronicled by limitless cliches, but their names were usually followed by words like “class”, ”dignity”, “respect”, ”toughness” and “character”, not to mention a real allegience to the Washington Redskins. As such, this was a day which I will remember forever, because their play has inspired me for years.

It is not just that they are Redskins going into the Hall of Fame, but their enshrinement truly is my link to Redskins football for most of my life, back to when I started watching football with the 1982 Super Bowl.  I don’t remember too much from my earliest days, but I do know that these two men always displayed class on the field and off, and subscribed to the highest morals which great men demonstrate.  I cannot say that I am as reverent as these men; when they speak the gospel, I know that they believe in every word as their salvation.  I respect that they hold true to their virtues, and have demonstrated respect for themselves, their teams and their competitors, honoring the greatest values of the sport.  They have been, and remain solid pillars in their community…in my community, and they continue to give back, quietly and humbly, to help others out, in a manor which is nothing but credible and real.

Seeing them get in is a pleasure, because it validates the feelings I always held when I watched them play; the realization that I was watching true greats.  It is hard for me to decide who really fits this mold in the current crop of NFL stars.  I know that some guys will certainly be in the Hall of Fame, and some are obvious, while others are less clear, until their playing days are done.  Some great players are flashes in the pan, while others persevere from year to year.  There may be more accomplished players than Green and Monk, but none that I know of can be considered more admirable and respected as men than these two.  They truly played the game, and live their lives…the right way, the Redskin way, and they did so in a way that is truly rare, nowadays…a manner I will miss as the generations pass.

I think that one of the reasons I am really motivated to write about this has nothing to do with celebration, but actually, a bit of sadness.  I have been a sports fan as long as I can remember.  I don’t believe in athletes necessarily being heroes in the traditional mold, but I do acknowledge having certain men whom I idolized both for their play and their characters.  I am sad, because over the past few years, many of them have retired, and I struggle to find new athletes to favor in the same way.  The comforting thing, though, is to see that I am not alone in celebrating my childhood idols as all-time greats.  Last year, I saw Cal Ripken go into the Hall of Fame; tonight I saw Green and Monk get inducted, and in September, Patrick Ewing will be enshrined. They all played with the skill of the greats, and with the attitude of a champion, and still managed to set positive examples worthy of emulation.

I am reflective because these are links to my childhood. Life goes on, of course, and wonderful things take place.  It is satisfying to see your idols celebrated, but it is also hard to accept that the road really is over, and that you will never ever see them play again, or get the chance to celebrate them as athletes in the same way.  I am a Redskin fan now and forever, but these men represent the last link to an era clearly gone by.  Washington is Redskin city, and it is always a better place when they are winning.  I won’t use this forum to go into how they have eroded into a mediocre shadow of its former self, but thinking about these players brings me back to a era gone by.  Some of my great memories involve watching the great Redskins teams of the past, and it is a real part of me. As I have grown from a boy to a man, these players were constants.  As they have gone on to other things, so to have those parts of my life.  I am not complaining per se, but it is a bit sad, at least a cause for nostalgia, to think about this. This feeling is difficult to express through words, but I guess what it comes down to is that I can feel a connection with the past, of my youth gone by, when I see their highlights, and the realization is here that I too have had to move on. 

I am happy, and I am still a sports fan.  I will watch Patrick’s enshrinement with eagerness, and I will enjoy the twlight years of some of my other remaining ”idols”, guys like Mike Mussina, or NASCAR’s Mark Martin.  I will still enjoy watching some of the contemporary greats…guys like Tim Duncan. and Peyton Manning…and….I am struggling to think of athletes who I respect with the same reverence and for the same reasons as these other Hall of Famers from the past…(especially from the Knicks and the Redskins…my teams). It is perceivable that I will never see athletes like Green and Monk, or like Ripken or Ewing, not so much from the talent standpoint, but from the eye of a young man, looking for idols to look up to, and now struggling to find men with the complete package.  It is one thing to root for a man, and to enjoy his play; it is quite another to actually respect them as people.

I go to bed tonight satisfied in hailing two great men into the Hall of Fame, and I will treasure my memories, and the joy that  I remember having watching them. Thank you, Darrell and Art…for the memories, for the way you played, for the character you displayed…and for giving me figures and reasons to look up to you.  Hail to the Redskins!!!!