I have always been one to hold a grudge. And to be honest, I'm sort of proud of it. I think it shows a strong sense of determination and character.
While others might be too wishy-washy to maintain their resentment of someone else — however well-founded it might be — I guard my anger and bitterness like a junkyard dog.
Surprisingly enough, however, most people seem incapable of mustering such resolve. In most cases, it takes very little for them to forgive and forget as though nothing ever happened.
This is particularly true in the world of professional sports. Although there are some obvious exceptions to the rule — read: O.J. Simpson -- most fans seem more than willing to turn the other cheek and give athletes who cheated or committed a crime, for instance, multiple opportunities to vindicate themselves.
In order for that to happen, an athlete need only offer a heartfelt apology — or something that can be perceived as such — and, perhaps more importantly, demonstrate that his play has been largely unaffected by his actions and their repercussions.
Alex Rodriguez is the name that immediately comes to mind in this type of discussion. At the beginning of this season, of course, we learned that he had committed the ultimate sin of steroid use. This revelation gave those people who were predisposed to hate A-Rod a tangible reason for doing so, and it gave those of us who had been neutral towards him or even liked him an excuse to add one more New York Yankee to our black lists.
But after one apology, one fairy-tale swing and six months of solid production, his steroid violations are suddenly ancient history to everyone but Boston Red Sox fans (and me; again, I hold a grudge very well). And, because of his uncharacteristically potent playoff performance, analysts and fans alike have also magically forgotten his history of postseason futility and are ready to once again refer to him as one of the best players of all time.
Michael Vick has not been afforded the same type of opportunity because he, unlike Rodriguez, has failed to provide a genuine apology. Sure, we believe that he's sorry. But anyone who watched his "60 Minutes" interview or subsequent press conferences would have a hard time convincing me that he's more distraught for torturing defenseless dogs than he is for tarnishing his career and lifestyle.
Furthermore, Vick has not, for various reasons, had the same sort of on-field success that A-Rod experienced following his struggles. One might say, of course, that Vick committed a felony while Rodriguez simply violated a league rule, and that's why the former has not been so readily forgiven. But I'm not so sure. I truly believe that if Vick were capable of showing some legitimate remorse for the animals he brutalized, and if he were not the third quarterback on the Eagles' depth chart, his violent past would be almost a non-issue.
And that's kind of a shame. I fully realize that my grudge-holding is generally a character flaw on my part and that most everyone deserves a second chance, but I do wonder how far our culture of forgiveness extends.
Even if you're not as ardent a dog-lover and death-penalty advocate as I am, and you therefore don't think that Vick — well, you see where I'm going with that. But can you really separate his off-field behavior from his on-field performance? And A-Rod is a proven cheater. Is it right that an apology and good play earn him better treatment than Mark McGwire or Rafael Palmeiro?
Maybe it is, but I'm still not convinced. I do know one thing though: If Sean Avery ever apologizes for his degenerate behavior and hockey fans begin to regard him as a beloved badass of the sport instead of the juvenile delinquent that he is, I will move to Kenya and start watching rugby.
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Rory Parks is a senior majoring in international relations and Spanish. He can be reached at Rory.Parks@tufts.edu
