For the Politics or Playoff
A Fan's Dilemma
Charles Shaw

About a month ago I was across the street at Rush and Walton at about seven o’clock in the morning when I saw Chicago Blackhawks’ star winger Theo Fleury crossing the street directly ahead of me. His hair was streak-bleached and he was wearing this immense sheep farmer’s coat that completely hid his tiny but well-chiseled 5’6” frame. As we passed each other on the crosswalk we locked eyes, and then he stopped and smiled at me. I almost plotzed.

"Hey, Theo, lookin’ good, man” I said.

"Thanks," he says. I looked at him hard, he couldn’t possibly think he recognizes me, and yet he did.

"Keep it up and get back on the ice," I said. "I know what you’re goin’ through."

" You do, huh?"

He smiled and continued across the street and disappeared around the corner. At the time (although I didn’t know it), Theo had just been cleared to begin practicing with the Blackhawks’ again after being suspended by the league for violating the parameters of his substance-abuse treatment, an ongoing saga over the last two years that threatened to completely ruin his career. After leaving small-market Calgary for the lights of Manhattan and a multi-million dollar free agent deal, he flopped, freaked out, attacked various players, refs and mascots during the 2001-2002 season, and just as he and fellow Ranger teammates Eric Lindros and Mike York (the FLY line) became the highest scoring line in the league, Theo left his team and went into treatment. When he returned, he was traded to San Jose. Signing with Chicago over the summer, ostensibly to replace the popular and prolific former captain Tony Amonte, Theo was suspended indefinitely the day the season opened, and everyone in Chicago shit a brick. And they let him know it in no uncertain terms. Poor guy. No one should ever have to publicly defend an illness. What if the press treated Lance Armstrong the same way they treated Theo Fleury? Would anyone stand for it

Theo didn’t recognize me that morning on the street. I completely forgot I was wearing my Blackhawks’ hat. But the situation speaks to the larger issue of being a sports fan in Chicago. I felt compelled (as a lifelong Blackhawks’ fan and graduate of Boston University, the college hockey capital of the world) to give Theo my support and let him know there were a lot of people still behind him, because Theo Fleury is a good guy. He had a lot of real problems, and he genuinely sought help for them and worked harder than the average recovering person would ever have to work, and was properly humble and contrite to the press and the fans. He was a model athlete, because what he said came from the heart, and he truly loves to play hockey. Oh, if only we could say the same about all professional athletes

I never thought I would find myself actually debating whether or not I should support professional sports, and yet here I am, right here in front of you, debating. The reasoning is simple. I’m generally vociferous about my political views, I edit a political magazine, and as such, I have to take all these wonderfully dramatic stances against all the various forms of injustice that permeate our society. It’s a total pain in the ass and fills my life with so much more stress than the doctor prescribed, but I have to be that way or else I am nothing but a hypocrite, right?

So over the years, particularly in the 1990s when professional athletes began to be deified by a world audience, evidence began to mount against this culture of physical elites.

Latrell Sprewell nearly chokes Coach PJ. Carlissimo to death during practice and it is formally called a “disagreement” and no charges are ever filed. Michael Irvin gets caught up in a coke-and-hooker conspiracy, arrested twice and still plays. Darrel Strawberry maintains an active cocaine addiction for almost fifteen years, is arrested over and over, probated over and over, and violates all the parameters of treatment and probation over and over and still is allowed to play until he is physically incapable of continuing. Allen Iverson is caught with drugs and guns and proudly surrounds himself with known gangbangers and parlays it into a marketing fortune. A heavily inebriated Jayson Williams shoots his limousine driver with a shotgun while “horsing around.” Bison Dele (formerly Brian Williams) becomes involved in an international gold smuggling caper and gets killed at sea; his body has never been recovered. Ray Lewis went on trial for his alleged participation in a murder conspiracy; he was acquitted. Randy Moss didn’t want to wait for people to cross the street, so he plowed into a crosswalk. When a traffic aide stepped in front of his car to stop him, he pushed her two blocks with his car before knocking her over. Mike Tyson did time for aggravated rape and bit off a chunk of Evander Holyfield’s ear. Rae Carruth had the mother of his child killed to avoid paying child support. Many think OJ Simpson killed his wife and her friend and that he was acquitted by a Los Angeles Criminal Justice system that had to avoid more riots at all costs.

That alone should be enough to ignite debate, and that list was only the proverbial tip of the iceberg. But everyone has their breaking points, and mine came after watching an episode of HBO’s Real Sports about former NFL star Ezra Tualua who had to hide the fact he was gay from everyone he knew in order to play in the NFL. Watching the testimonies, one after another, of these arrogant, self-righteous, Evangelical homophobes touting the Bible and stating proudly and with impunity that yes, he would have been run out of the league if he had ever been outed, led me to become enraged. What did his sexuality have anything to do with his effectiveness as a player? It wasn’t contagious, for christ-sakes. It was sad, because, again, Ezra Tuala seemed like a decent guy. He lives with his partner and two adopted children in Minnesota, and runs a string of businesses. A far cry from some of the lifestyles of these other Rich and Famous.

I decided once and for all to stop supporting the NFL. I knew how deeply Christian the league was, but I put up with it. This was different. This was just wrong. And I didn’t feel the need to defend my views. Now every time I drive by the new Soldier Field, I feel like a chump, some idealistic fool that will never get to experience that wonder of human ingenuity inside that giant glass and steel bowl.

There is no doubt greed is destroying professional sports, and that we fans are guilty of creating this new athletic royalty, because we bought all the marketing. But doesn’t it make sense that men who can’t spell “salary arbitration” should have no right to demand it?

I am a Chicagoan, and you don’t grow up in Chicago and somehow avoid becoming a professional sports fan. The Bears and the Cubs are a way of life here, the cross-town rivalry of the Cubs and Sox is a living metaphor for the cultural difference between Working Class Chicago and Professional Class Chicago. The Blackhawks’ are an Original Six franchise, and have the longest losing streak of any NHL team. The Sox have the second longest drought without a World Series title, surpassed only by the Cubs. The Bears just had a $600 Million dollar new stadium deal rammed down the State’s throat, a controversial renovation of the old Soldier Field, which is nearing completion despite the team only making the playoffs once in the last ten years. Then again, many refer to the late 90s renaissance of Chicago as “The City that Michael Rebuilt.” This is a sports town. Culturally, socially, economically.

But does that necessarily mean that athletes should be exempt from the basic rules of society? There’s a legitimate sociological phenomenon going on here. Very young, largely poor men with very little formal education (regardless of the Collegiate system) are from grade school being exploited for their physical talents, sheltered, rarely denied anything, and taught that the only important lesson in life is to win. To be kind, they have a limited world view. Overnight they become incredibly rich and influential and are treated like royalty, and they have absolutely no idea how to handle it. Very few of us would. And then consider they are also under tremendous pressure to maximize their earnings in order to get enough to last them the rest of their lives during the very brief window of opportunity their professional careers present.

As such, is it any wonder that everyone wants something from them, everyone who ever said hi to him back in the old neighborhood thinks he owes them something, and the temptation to do less than prudent things in order to flex one’s influence can be overwhelming. I can only imagine what I would have done had I ever became that World Class hockey Centerman I always became when I played X-Box.

But enough is enough! Something has got to change. Unfortunately, it is looking more and more like the leagues will fold long before the athletes are willing to change their demands. Escalating player salaries and ad revenues have already heralded the end of NHL hockey in all but three markets in Canada, the birthplace of the game. Ticket prices for all four major sports have risen to the point that only the affluent can attend, which forces the working class to stay home and watch it on TV, which means more ad revenue, which means more influence from the corporate sector. It’s a death spiral of greed and hubris, antithetical to the working class nobility of the gentleman athlete. And as it stands, hockey is the only sport to offer an annual award for the most Sportsmanlike Player.

All this makes it easier to abstain politically, but no matter what I really feel like I am missing out on something that is an essential part of life. So I still watch hockey and rationalize it because I think hockey players have more values. Well, maybe they do and maybe they don’t, but it seems to me I have one last guilty pleasure I’d sure like to keep. Life definitely wouldn’t be the same without it.