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[BLACK SCREEN]
Ring announcer: Laaaadies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Battle for the Soul of Sports!
[SCENE OPENS INSIDE AN UNNAMED ARENA. TWO BOXERS STAND AT OPPOSITE CORNERS OF A RING. ONE HAS LONG, SANDY HAIR, A SCRAGGLY BEARD AND KIND EYES; THE OTHER SPORTS A DEVILISH SMILE ON A RED, SUNBURNED FACE.]
Announcer: Innnnnn this corner, in the white trunks and Nazarene sandals, fighting to fund cancer research and protect baby seals, please welcome the challenger, the Duke of Decency, the Iman of Irreproach, the Role Model to end all Role Models, ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to … Sports Virtue!
[POLITE APPLAUSE FROM THE AUDIENCE]
Announcer: Aaaaand in this corner …
[CUE SMOKE, FIREWORKS, LASER LIGHTS, DANCING GIRLS, DOLLAR BILLS FALLING FROM THE RAFTERS AND THE SCORPIONS' "ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE."]
Announcer: … in the black trunks and baby seal-pelt boots, please welcome the other challenger, the Earl of Ill Repute, the Wizard of Wickedness, a fighter managed by Don King, ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to … Sports Sin!
[WILD CHEERING. THE BOXERS MEET AT THE CENTER OF THE RING.]
Sports Virtue: Good luck. May the best man win.
Sports Sin: I must break you. And quickly, too, since I've got three honeys and a packed spliff waiting for me in the dressing room.
[SPORTS SIN SMIRKS, FLEXES FOR THE AUDIENCE AND KISSES HIS BICEPS. HE LETS OUT A BEER-FLAVORED BELCH. SPORTS VIRTUE WRINKLES HIS NOSE, SHAKING HIS HEAD.]
Referee: You ready? You ready? Let's git it on!
[THE BELL SOUNDS. SPORTS VIRTUE THROWS A TEXTBOOK RIGHT JAB, HONED THROUGH YEARS OF HARD, HONEST WORK. SPORTS SIN COUNTERS WITH A LAZY LEFT HOOK, AIMED DIRECTLY AT SPORTS VIRTUE'S NETHER REGIONS … ]
*****
Sports are a battlefield. Clichéd, but true. And the conflict isn't limited to the scoreboard, the standings, or the stands at the Palace of Auburn Hills.
Think bigger.
| Chat: Page 2's Soul of Sports! | |||
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All week, join each day's author in chat: Tue: Patrick Hruby wrap  Wed: Dan Shanoff, 3 ET Thu: Scoop Jackson, 1 ET Fri: Jeff Merron, 1 ET |
Bigger than the Super Bowl. Bigger than the World Cup. Bigger than the East Coast-West Coast rap feud.
Keep going …
OK, stop. Go back. Way back.
In medieval Europe -- and bear with us, because the point's coming -- drama took the form of morality plays, allegorical tales in which characters personifying good and evil struggled for dominion of the protagonist's soul.
Today, we have Pete Rose and Cal Ripken.
Terrell Owens and Jerry Rice.
Coach K and Tark the Shark.
Simply put, sports are our morality plays. And fair or otherwise, we judge them accordingly.
Always have.
The ancient Greeks considered Olympic cheating an affront to Zeus; the story line-driven cash cow that is contemporary pro wrestling offers an endless procession of good-guy faces and bad-boy heels, both set to appropriate theme music.
Hulk Hogan? "Real American."
Hollywood Hogan? "Voodoo Child."
Turn on the television. Check the headlines. Heroic athletes aren't admired for talent alone. They're loved for their humility, their generosity, their zeal. Real and imagined.
Conversely, sports villains aren't simply pegged as bad actors. They're considered bad people, arrogant and slothful and greedy and gluttonous. At least if talk radio is to be believed.
Larry Brown yaps incessantly about playing basketball the right way.
Some slam Brown's move to New York as dishonest, disloyal and flat-out wrong.
These are the terms, the stakes. Sin vs. virtue. An ongoing battle for the soul of sports.
Pull up a chair, pick a rooting interest: Anaheim Angels, New Jersey Devils, Wake Forest Demon Deacons. The game is already in progress.
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Here's the fight card for Page 2's Battle for the Soul of Sports: In Round 1, Pride beat out Humility by a score of 75%-to-25%. Check back throughout the week as we update the virtue scorecard. Monday, Aug. 1: Meet the Combatants |
To put things another way: If sports will take us to heaven … and sports are going to hell … then which one is it?
Over the next nine days, Page 2 will tackle the issue, pitting each of the classic seven deadly sins (pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony, lust) against its corresponding virtue (humility, love, kindness, diligence, charity, temperance, chastity) as they pertain to athletics.
The matchups will take many forms -- essays, polls, illustrations -- with only one hard-and-fast rule in effect: Each day's battle will determine a winner, building toward a final verdict.
Think of the NCAA Tournament, only with T.O.'s sense of humility replacing Holy Cross as a No. 16 seed.
Be advised, however, that this isn't a one-sided fight. Far from it. Vice, for example, can be fun and compelling, especially when it's slothfully sprawling across the couch, beer in hand, NFL Sunday Ticket on the tube. Virtue is often dull and sanctimonious when it dutifully rakes the leaves, goes to church and eschews fantasy football to toss the real thing with its kids.
How sports are and how we would like them to be are two very different things.
Blessed are the meek? Not on Pardon-The-Around-Quite-Frankly-Is-Burning. Verily, I say unto you: It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a soft-spoken, deferential analyst to enter the kingdom of sports television.
Of course, good works and deeds have a place in the sports firmament, too: the diligence of Lance Armstrong, the kindness of Maurice Cheeks, the charity of Andre Agassi and David Robinson, the (literal) chastity of A.C. Green.
That said, the distinction between sports sin and sports virtue can be hazy, seldom as clear-cut as the action on the field. Each needs the other.
As such, are sin and virtue relatives … or just relative?
This much seems clear: Both exist as flip sides of the same ceremonial coin. So call it in the air: Is it greedy for Javon Walker to ponder holding out for more money? Or greedy for him to put team goals ahead of providing as much as possible for his family?
Is it selfish for the big, bad New York Yankees to snap up $200 million-plus worth of players? Or selfish of other owners to hoard their ticket revenues like a bunch of Scrooge McDucks, instead of putting every last cent into building better ballclubs?
There's only one way to find out, one way to settle this battle royale. Dim the lights. Ring the bell.
Ready? Let's git it on …
COMING TUESDAY: SPORTS PRIDE VS. SPORTS HUMILITY
Patrick Hruby is a Page 2 columnist.
