Last October, in my very first post of this fresh incarnation of Useless Sports, I derisively referred to “list-obsessed males” in explaining my choice to do away with power rankings. Well, here we are, eight months later, and I have spent the last two weeks writing rather irrelevant, self-absorbed1 lists. I’m awfully sorry about that. I will try to do better.
ESPN’s Outside the Lines released a report this week which studied criminal investigations and prosecutions of athletes at several major colleges. The study found that male basketball and football players are much less likely to be prosecuted when named as suspects in police investigations than their nonathletic peers.
For anyone who lives in a college town, as I do, this probably comes as no surprise. My relatively small hometown houses the University of Montana, and even at our mid-major level of athletics we’ve had several high profile cases of accusations and attempted cover-ups in recent years.
The reasons cited in OTL’s report are numerous, but they all point to a broader cultural problem. Athletes are held on a pedestal, and the subsequent tickets, apparel, advertising revenue, and television rights that we all pay for feed a lumbering beast of unearthly profits, and college athletic departments are raking in the dough. Sadly, but predictably, many (or perhaps most) of them are willing to protect that cash cow at any cost.
So when the name of a star player pops up in a police report, it’s in the best interest of an AD to do everything possible to clear that name. After all, it’s his job to maintain that revenue stream, and criminal accusations shed a negative light, not just on the name on the back of the jersey, but on the name on the front as well. The AD sets the athlete up with the best lawyer, finding all sorts of ways to skirt NCAA prohibitions against such assistance, or he puts pressure on skittish small-town law enforcement; one way or another, the charges are either dropped or never filed in the first place.
This scene is replayed far too often on campuses from sea to shining sea. We keep sacrificing our hard-earned livelihood and precious time to this god of athletics, willing to overlook a thousand injustices in the name of fandom. “Amateur” athletics have been perverted into a complex profit scheme, and those gifted few on whose backs these profits are gained are often too valuable to see undone by something as petty as theft or rape.
This is not merely anecdotal scraps of evidence. The OTL report documents several specific and alarming statistics that should make anyone who believes in justice, or even simple decency, sit up and take notice.
Who is to blame then? The athletes? Not really, because let’s face it, young men are going to commit crimes whether they are properly prosecuted or not. Of course the individuals who break the law should be treated accordingly, but my crusade is not against them per se. The athletic programs? They are certainly at fault in hundreds of cases, but when so much money is at stake with so little accountability to go with it, corruption is simply inevitable. It’s the burden of being a part of the human race.2 What about law enforcement? Surely the police and prosecutors who aren’t properly pursuing these cases bear some culpability? Yes, and again, it’s important to hold them accountable, but all too often the fear is that prosecution will be accompanied by a public backlash. Public response shouldn’t really be a consideration when justice is at stake, of course, but again, they’re only human.
Which leads me to the real problem. The real problem is me. The real problem is you. We gleefully buy our tickets, watch our television, shop for our branded gear, and we ignore what’s happening before our noses. Oh sure, around the water cooler on Monday morning we take a real hard line against that star quarterback whose name is in the paper for all the wrong reasons. “He needs to be charged. There can’t be any special treatment,” we – I – declare all piously, with a self-assured nod. But come Saturday morning, my butt is filling a seat in the stadium3 all the same, watching that very quarterback light up the scoreboard, and cheering as if he was my own son. What is wrong with the upside-down priorities of this picture?
As is often the case, I don’t have an immediate solution here. I don’t think there is one. But reading that article is a good start. It’s well worth the time investment for a dose of perspective. Then we can each do our part by considering our priorities. Is sport king? Or are a good education, fair and equal treatment, and maybe things like family and community a whole lot more significant?
If a big chunk of us sports junkies decided that our obsession with watching some other random schlubs play a game is not worth our supreme attention, then maybe, just maybe, this financial juggernaut can begin to weaken, allowing justice and common sense to again take the reins.
We hold the power, because ultimately, we hold the pocketbooks. We are the problem; now let’s try to be the solution, one baby step at a time.4, 5
1 This is, after all, “another self-indulgent blog” filled with “worthless trivia”. At least I’m honest, right there in the heading.
2 I didn’t mean this as pretentious as it sounded, as you’re about to find out.
3 Not in my case, truthfully, as I have never attended a college football game, but the consideration primarily financial, not moral. I have no qualms showing up at two or three much-less pricey basketball games per year.
4 Holy cow, that’s corny. However, did you notice that, outside of the first paragraph, I didn’t have as much humor today? I couldn’t bring myself to laugh about this one. Sorry.
5 This is very difficult for me to say, because I truly am indicting myself. I love sports, and I am trying really hard to take it out of a position of priority in my life. But actions still speak louder than words, and I still spend a great deal of my free time watching games, or highlights, or SportsCenter, or talking about sports, or reading about sports, or (*gasp!*) writing about sports, time that could – that should – be spent with family or friends, writing something worthwhile, reading something instructive, or better yet, getting my tail in gear and volunteering. Because, ultimately, sports DO NOT MATTER. So perhaps one day I will finally tire of the utterly unfruitful distraction and wean myself of my addiction. But until then, I will keep trying to invest a bit more of my most valuable resource, time, elsewhere.