Michael Vick & Roger Clemens: Signs of the Times

(A repost from another place in December)

 Well, I'm not sure what to say. These are heavy times. I just filled up my Civic for 40 bones, I've got friends rakin' in hazard pay in Iraq, the Christmas rape is in full swing, and amid the whirlwind of craziness that is post-911 earth, people would rather hear Britney Spears updates than do anything to help each other, thus helping themselves.

The back alleys of escape are few and far between. Sure getting loaded is always an option, but it's more like not escaping at all than really getting away. How many powerful allies have the friends of peace lost to the lonely haze of drugs and alcohol?

Hopelessness abounds.

There's art. I really get off on art every now and again. Whether it's music or drawing or both, those things are a good way to run free for awhile. Then again, somehow art always leads to expression, which for me, leads to social commentary, which to me is no escape at all.

Hmph.

The one true escape, the pin of light at the distant end of a long black tunnel if you will, for me anyhow, was always sport. Yes, it was always easy for me to step onto the field, floor or court, and everything else would simply cease to exist. Hours could pass. The longest summer games during those innocent days of my life are the pillar of my long forgotten past.

Now, as I grow older, and set foot less often on the courts or fields than I step into bars, I long for those days of competition. I used to be a big-time fan. One of my favorite things I've ever said is "I used to be a sports nut, now I'm just a shell." It's more true now more than ever.

Add dog-fighting and steroids to the games I love and I've come to realize that sports are as loaded, crazy and fucked up as everything else we live.

What is actually going on? Why is the government making villains out of our childhood heroes? Are they really villains? Were they ever actual heroes in the first place? These are complicated times.

The motives behind men, corporations, governments and financial kingpins will never be fully dissected and understood, not by men anyhow. My personal feelings are that each of these players shares the common bonds of self-interest and self-preservation, but beyond that, with good and evil in the balance, it gets too complicated for simple analysis. Why some do and some don't just can't be explained logically.

Heavy.

Mike Vick likes sick shit. A lot of people like shit like that. I'm not one of them. Life and death games are too Roman Coliseum to me. I really don't think it'll be long before they're on TV and that freaks me out.

Animals are helpless. Are people? Sometimes, I think so.

Roger Clemens was under pressure. His age stared at him in the mirror, while his reputation preceded him. The Rocket needed to perform, after all it was performance that shined his star. He was an icon, but all along, he was only a man.

There are questions people, many questions.

Who didn't know about roids and baseball?

The players? Obviously they new. Many took 'em, more didn't.

The coaches? They took 'em too. They heard. They didn't ask, players didn't tell.

The owners? Whispers in team meetings. They also didn't ask and players still didn't tell.

Next question, who was the benefactor of steroids?

The players? Made higher salaries and maybe even just juiced enough to get a roster spot.

The coaches? Everyone likes a winner. Why tell?

The owners? Aren't these guys the ones making the real dough here? Aren't Major League Baseball and it's teams and subsidiaries making the huge haul? Why test for steroids?

My last question, who does it hurt?

The players? Accusation is guilt, while guilt is something that can topple even giants of men. Families of players and their families will never escape the whispers.

The coaches? Same as with players, to a much lesser extent.

The owners? If the initial backlash against MLB doesn't kill it (and I don't think that's highly likely) they continue raking in their hauls in ticket sales and endorsements. Old money usually doesn't just roll over and die.

In the end, the most important question scares the heck outta me. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I'm living with the same self-interest and self-preservation as every other player, and in the end, I worry about myself.

What does this all really mean? We all know wars on drugs, like every other war, are unwinnable by design. So what then, is the motivation for the government to make examples of these men?

If Mike Vick can't buy his way out of jail for dog fighting (which is obviously a huge business), who can? If Barry Bonds goes to jail for "perjury," what in the heck can some regular Joe such as myself get thrown in the clink for?

More questions. What part does race play in all of this? A-Rod is the poster boy of the MLB? So being money hungry is an OK value to preach to the kids in the yard?

Why are these stories so big when they're just sports stories anyhow? Isn't there a lot more we men of peace in the world should be worried about? I don't mean we should worry, but aren't there better ways we can spend our existences besides following the lifestyle laid out for us by TV and the media?

It scares me to see my heroes go to jail. I wonder if it's a statement. If it is, I wonder what it all means.

Then again, I've always wondered that.