By Ronald N. Guy Jr.
NFL training camps, or the return of our gridiron
gladiators, and the Little League World Series in not so far-off Williamsport,
PA are two late-summer sporting staples.
Aside from their similar timing and some good old fashion competition,
the two events have little else in common.
In the case of the NFL, well-compensated grown men compete in a
professional setting at the pinnacle of their sport. The Little League World Series involves 11-13 year old kids from
around the globe competing at an early stage of athletics and compensated only
by the incredible memories they’ll download and carry from this event for the
rest of their lives. Apart from the
size, salary and competitive disparities, the most significant difference
between pre-season NFL players and the little leaguers is captured by the
poignant image of the two going about their business; one’s obviously at work
while the other’s at play.
Close your eyes and visualize the Little League World
Series. The images that likely come to
mind are of kids giving every ounce of themselves for their teams and the
overflowing euphoria of victorious teams.
Effort, passion and joy are abundant in the young, unburdened athletes
that descend upon Williamsport every August.
In them we see the unbridled spirit of youth and the essence of amateur
athletics. It is a scene that prompts
nostalgia for our own youthful athletic experiences and one that we long to see
more of from those that play on fall Sunday’s or in any other professional
sport.
This expectation, of course, is unrealistic and we know
it. First, adults are more reserved
creatures than kids. Us big people are
so situationally aware and self-evident we almost never get lost in a
moment. More importantly, though, the
business of professional sports is a serious one with real consequences: see
the fine line between employed and unemployed.
Pro coaches aren’t looking for cheerleaders; they want players who get
with the program and produce. There are
no “nice tries”, only success and failure, and not everyone gets a trophy at
year’s end. I’m sure most NFL players
once had an exuberance for the game rivaling anything we see in those little
leaguers and they likely still genuinely enjoy what they do, but the win or
lose harshness of NFL football modifies the joy-ride considerably. Stated more broadly, the enjoyment gleaned
from anything in life is squelched a bit the minute it transitions from
something you want to do to something you feel like you have to do. Still, most players are able to
compartmentalize the business side of the game and enjoy the time between the
lines - even during practices on a sweltering August afternoon. One player though clearly cannot, and when
the angry scowl of this curmudgeon is contrasted with the beaming smiles of the
world’s little leaguers, it’s as if the masks of tragedy and comedy have come
to life.
Anyone with even a casual eye on the world of sports this
summer has some level of awareness of the drama ‘Skins defensive lineman Albert
Haynesworth has brought on himself and the organization. Beyond his obvious selfishness,
combativeness, laziness and apparent inability to consider anything outside of
himself, Haynesworth’s existence appears joyless. Looking at his face it’s hard to tell if he’s playing a child’s
game for tens of millions of dollars or smelling an old shoe. That is simply disgraceful. He is everything we should endeavor to never
be. Maybe one day long ago Haynesworth
smiled like a little-leaguer but drop him in Williamsport now and he’d drain
the fun from the joint like the Wicked Witch did in Munchkinland.
Just because something you loved becomes a job laden with
responsibility doesn’t mean you have to lose your all happiness in doing it;
and if you do, maybe it’s time to do something else. It might hurt the bottom line – wins and losses – but I’ll be
glad when Haynesworth takes his perpetual frown to some other NFL town, or
better yet, out of the NFL altogether.
When that happens, it’ll be far from a tragedy.
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