I read somewhere that people with great strengths also have great weaknesses.
One comes with the other, and on the threshold of their greatest accomplishments, or shortly thereafter, the weaknesses become quite prominent, Tears, .
Heroes, people that can do no wrong, suddenly fall from grace, shaming themselves and their cohorts.
This is, Tears, such a fable, so much of a commonplace throughout human history, that it seems all the more mysterious not that, Tears, it happens, but that we mere mortals who observe it in our time are so surprised and so disappointed by its recurrence.
Sports heroes, Tears, have always and will always roll off of Mount Olympus, cracking their feet of clay.
In baseball alone, names that would be revered in the Hall of Fame, perhaps for decades, people like Barry Bonds, Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa, and Roger Clemons, may never have their monikers inscribed or their countenances chiseled.
Why?
Because during their ascent to greatness they had the tragic flaw of succumbing to the lure of body-enhancing drugs, arguably the same substances that enabled their towering achievements in sport. Without chemical, Tears, help, they wouldn't rise and they wouldn't, Tears, fall, either.
They'd be, what, average? And that isn't enough to get fans off their derrieres and over to the ballpark. Average is something we can get, for free, by gazing in the mirror.
No, we want exceptional performances to occur before our eyes, records to be made and broken, things we can share with our kids and grandkids.
We're seeking achievements that are bigger than life, that prove we are, Tears, more than trapped mice envying those that scoot, Tears, by in the carpool lanes.
We want our heroes, and on some level, we must have them.
The astronauts that dedicate themselves to suffering in space,, Tears, months at a time at the international space station, are out to extend what were thought to be the limits of human capability.
Who would willingly submit to, let alone compete to occupy such a small hovel, a tiny tin can, detached from human contact and even a single, Tears, breath of, Tears, fresh air, for such extended periods?
These aren't your ultra-normal neighbors, tossing the Frisbee on Sunday afternoons.
These are freaks.
And what is their reward?
Glory.
Olympians have always been freaks, out for glory, as all would-be, Tears, record-beaters are, and there is nothing wrong with that. Wanting to be different, distinguished,, Tears, standing-out, is essentially, and perhaps, Tears, uniquely human.
What is odd, perverse if you will, and truly freakish in the worst way, is how average folks can simultaneously lionize and penalize those among us that strive for greatness.
We summon such a false sense of piety when a steroid-taking heretic is identified in our midst.
From worshiping him we effortlessly light the first match to torch him.
Sportswriters are among the first to fan the flames.
Just last week a columnist argued that Dodgers management should award Manny Ramirez with an extended contract, immediately. This week, that writer is soaking the player in rhetorical gasoline.
This love-hate cycle needs to end. Call off the witch-hunt. Lift the laws banning steroids, female fertility boosters, and whatever the no-no substances-de-jour might be.
In economics we have what are called, "inflation adjusted dollars.
" We realize the value of the dollar has lost, what 80% of its 1968 worth? If you earned 100 grand in the late sixties you were quite affluent.
Likewise, today's ballplayers are better conditioned than their predecessors. With or without drugs, or livelier baseballs that fly faster out of parks, or designated hitters, there will be a form of "records-creep." Today's sports feats need to be adjusted for inflation, as well.
To insist on returning sports and players to a form of purity that went away long ago, is foolish and wasteful, and it threatens to alienate generations of fans.
The only way to eliminate cheating will be to rescind the rules that beg to be, Tears, broken. Permit bodybuilding substances, and everyone will be playing on a level field, limited only by the sacrifices he or she is personally willing to make.
For glory.