The Sports Rumors

Fascination With Disaster

I have a nine year old cousin who is in the fourth grade. A few months ago, before summer vacation began, she came to my office to visit and was telling me about her class project. They had to come up with three professions that they would want to be when they grew up. This made me think about when I was a kid and wanted to be a football player and a basketball player, at the same time. I also wanted to be a meteorologist but that was because the weather guy on the news was “cool” at the time and I wanted to be like him; we don’t need to talk about that. The point I’m getting at is as kids, we have such huge aspirations of what we want to be and what we’re going to do with our lives. Then you hit your twenties or your thirties and you realize that those dreams will never come true. You realize that you’re going to be an average, above average, or maybe even a little better than that, 9-5 Monday through Friday worker. You’re going to have two kids and a dog and that will be your life.

You flip on ESPN and you see stories of guys like Pacman Jones, who was throwing $81,000 in cash one night at a strip club. $81,000 is almost double the average salary in most states. You see guys like Vick, who have $130 million dollar contracts, now facing jail time and no football career all together. I’d say 98% of us will never seen $50 million in front of us, let alone $130 million. You turn on the entertainment channel and see stories about Britney Spears who had it all, but now is a 24/7 train wreck. You watch Lindsay Lohan throwing her life and her riches away at the age of 21. Then you think, ‘If I were in that person’s shoes, I’d have the greatest life ever. I would never mess up the way these idiots are throwing their life-lottery-ticket away.’ Soon, your thoughts turn to anger and frustration. You’re frustrated because these people, these stars, are living your dream and ruining it. That was supposed to be you scoring 81 points in a single game. That was supposed to be you diving over 250 pound men for a touchdown. That was supposed to be you, but it isn’t.

Our fascination, and almost addiction with troubled athletes and stars isn’t because the media bombards us with 24/7 coverage. We are provided that coverage because we want to see it. I just went on espn.com at 9:48AM Eastern Time and the number one topic commented on was Vick, with over 4,000 comments. Number ten is no other than Pacman Jones, even though it’s been over a month since he’s been suspended from the league. We want to see these stories, we want to read about these stories, and we want to talk about these stories. In a way, it appeases us by saying “Ha ha, you had it all but guess what buddy? Now you’re back in reality. Have fun in jail.”

I spoke in length with a close friend of mine, with a psychology degree from a prestigious university, about our attraction and appeal to watching and commenting on the “lives gone wrong” of celebrities and athletes. “Cliques” are formed by people associating with others who have similar traits or characteristics as themselves. You want to be around those who are like you because it helps reinforce whatever it is you’re doing. Stuck up cheerleaders stick together. Angry goth kids stick together. Math geeks stick together. Alcoholics make friends at the bars so that they feel like they aren’t alone; so that what they are doing is justified because Tom and Nancy are doing it also. Now parlay that into sports. Have you ever noticed that once a few people start bashing an athlete, the snowball effect takes its course? People who know nothing about Barry Bonds’ attitude or the game of baseball hate him. Why? Because they hear about it all the time and everyone else hates him. People who know nothing about Kobe’s trial hated him and presumed him guilty. Why? Because Bill O’Reilly and everyone with a voice on a TV or radio was presuming him guilty.

Why are we so interested in watching train wrecks and celebs throwing their lives away? Because without knowing it, it makes us feel better as individuals. It makes that 9-5 job not so bad anymore. Things could be worse and you could be going to jail, but you’re not. It makes us feel like, “Okay, he was living my dream but he screwed up and now its over for him. I still have my life. I win.” If some random John Smith from Alabama was the leader of a dog fighting ring and was facing two or three years in prison, we wouldn’t give a crap. Just like Vick, he’d still be facing jail time and animals were still harmed, but we wouldn’t care as much. The reason is because he wasn’t out there living our dream nor having the opportunities to succeed that we never had; the ones we wished we had. He didn’t fall from the top to the bottom. He just fell from average to gutter.

I’m not saying it’s everyone’s dream to be a star athlete. A lot of you wanted to be doctors and lawyers and all the other prestigious professions; and that’s fine. My point is, the reason we are often so fascinated by watching the tragedies unfold in lives of famous people is because whatever it was we envied about them at some point, is no longer there. We have no more reasons to look up at them and be like “Man, I wish I was Mike Vick. He has it all,” because now, Vick, Lohan, Spears and many others don’t have it all. They have nothing. They are in trouble and we no longer aspire to be them. Now our lives seem to be a lot better. We feel superior. We win. Until another superstar with everything handed to him on a golden plate comes along that is.