I've never quite understood why athletes have been described as "role models" for the rest of us. I mean, yes, we can surely attempt to jump like Michael Jordan, throw like Pedro Martinez or catch like Jerry Rice, but I'm referring to a more holistic sense of the word. To really model ourselves after these people? Well, that requires learning about them in a way that the media do not necessarily help, understanding their idiosyncrasies that can be difficult for us to decipher and occasionally learning that these athletes are not who we thought they were.
I spent my formative teenage and college years idolizing Tom Brady. The man wins, is always polite in public settings, receives rave reviews from his teammates and manages to have perfectly coiffed hair under his helmet. Who wouldn't want to have his life? Well, if you've followed sports long enough, you know that it has a dark underbelly. If you want to learn negative things about an athlete, we all know the Internet is a big place. I'm personally fine with what I know about Brady now and haven't explored further, but some athletes haven't been so lucky to keep any or all skeletons in the closet.
Tiger Woods was on top of the world in 2009. He had won The Masters in 2008 on one leg, was approaching Jack Nicklaus' record at a young age and had command of any and all endorsement deals that he wanted. Tiger was synonymous with golf, and it was only a matter of time before he went down in history as the greatest to ever play the game. But then Thanksgiving of 2009 happened. His life was turned upside down, his golf game suffered and his reputation suffered even more. He lost much of what made him great, falling quickly from his image-enhanced perch above the rest of us. Do we still copy his swing, buy his products and worship his competitiveness? Why is it so difficult to separate these from his fractured home life and personal demons?
Barry Bonds hit 73 home runs in 2001, an absurd number of home runs. He also alienated roughly 100 times that number of people during his career. Bonds was a famous dichotomy of talent and unpleasantness, winning seven MVPs without anyone outside of San Francisco actually liking him as a person. Do we get on his level? If we're that much better than everyone else at something, does it excuse personal flaws? How come he got away with it? Many would love his baseball instincts, but can you have them without the whole package?
Kobe Bryant won his fifth championship in 2010. He's one ring behind Jordan, revered by LA fans and considered maybe the greatest of his generation. His face is known around the world, and his bust will be prominently featured in the Hall of Fame some day. He's also been accused of sexual assault, and recently was caught using the word "faggot" on national television. Do these transgressions overshadow his unmatched workout regimen? His dedication to winning at all costs? Can we compartmentalize the parts of Kobe we want to imitate?
And yet, Tiger Woods built a 35,000-square-foot learning center for kids in California. Barry Bonds formed the Barry Bonds Family Foundation in 1993 and it remains active to this day. Kobe Bryant is the official ambassador for After-School All-Stars. We want the philanthropy, right? The giving back? We want the skills, we want the desire, we want the respect for community, but we don't want the negatives. Can we ask them to be perfect? Is that fair? Or do we look for role models elsewhere? Sports are beautifully simple, but athletes … not so much.
