Moving the Chains: More than a fall

Falling from grace implies someone has done something that tarnishes their image or puts a severe dent in their reputation. Plunging from grace, however, is something far, far worse.

Nowhere is it more prominent than in the world of professional sports. I’ll start with a rather extreme example to start.

Aaron Hernandez was drafted as a tight end out of the University of Florida by the New England Patriots in 2010 at the age of 20. Two years later he signed a five-year, $40 million contract extension. Then, just three years after that, a jury found him guilty of murder. He was sentenced to life in prison, but committed suicide in his cell after two years behind bars. He left behind a wife and daughter. Hernandez’ name and likeness was removed from various locations at his alma mater, including a stone with his name and ‘All American’ inscribed on it.

As a Gator alum, this one hit close to home, and shattered the impression of an athlete I had grown to appreciate and admire.

But it’s not like any of the others you’re about to read about didn’t hit this lifelong sports fan hard as well.

I watched O.J. Simpson run for the USC Trojans in their glory days under coach John McCay. Then I saw #32 run for the Buffalo Bills in 1973 against the New York Jets on a snow-covered field in the last game of the season to become the first NFL player to rush for more than 2,000 yards in a season. Twenty-one years later, I watched in horror as the Juice sat in the back seat of his white Ford Bronco, while his friend Al Cowlings led police on the slowest vehicle pursuit in history. O.J. went to trial for the murder of his wife (and another man), only to be found not guilty in 1994 by a jury of a dozen of Los Angeles’ most oblivious citizens.

I followed Joe Paterno, the head football coach at Penn State, for many, many years as he became the winningest coach in the history of the NCAA. Then, I was stunned to see one of his assistant coaches, Jerry Sandusky, convicted and sentenced to prison for being a serial child molester. Then, adding insult to injury, I was even more repulsed to learn that Paterno was aware of his behavior well before it became public knowledge … and did little more than raise a finger to put a stop to it.

Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa were involved in the greatest home run battle in the history of Major League Baseball, playing a game of anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better that made for an exciting finish to the 1998 regular season. McGwire finished the season as the first player to hit 70 home runs, while Sosa ended up with 66, which at the time was the second-best on the all-time list. Several years later, evidence was discovered to suggest that performance-enhancing drugs could be a slugger’s best friend. Or two sluggers, as the case may be. (Three if you include Barry Bonds, another story for another day.)

Joe Namath led the New York Jets to victory in Super Bowl III in the only championship game in NFL history that I had any real interest in the outcome. After Broadway Joe ‘guaranteed victory’ over the heavily-favored Baltimore Colts, I couldn’t wait to see him put his money where his mouth was … because I was sure he would. After all, the man was my childhood hero. And he did just as he said: Jets – 16, Colts – 7. Many years later, a retired and obviously inebriated Joe Namath tried to kiss sideline ESPN reporter Suzy Kolber on live television, a sign that his drinking – and perhaps his life – had hit rock bottom.

I watched Stanford’s Tiger Woods in 1966 capture his third consecutive US Amateur title in a playoff against the University of Florida’s Steve Scott. It kicked off the start of Woods’ incredible 23-year run as a professional golfer, a career I followed almost as closely as if it was my own. There was no doubt in my mind that one day I would see him win 125 professional golf tournaments and 25 majors, surpassing Jack Nicklaus’ record in the latter by seven. That is, until the morning after Thanksgiving in 2009, when he infamously drove his Escalade into a fire hydrant, effectively snuffing out his quest to become the best there ever was. (No need to go into detail, because most of it is common knowledge: infidelity, various addictions, an endless stream of injuries, and a very public divorce, to name a few.)

Hernandez. Simpson. Paterno. McGwire. Sosa. Namath. Woods. They just didn’t fall from grace; they took a leap off of the highest cliff they could find.

Maybe Charles Barkley was right after all. You may recall the Round Mound of Rebound being bold enough many years ago to speak the absolute truth about a professional athlete’s place in society:

‘I am not paid to be a role model.

I am paid to wreak havoc on the basketball court.

Parents should be role models.’

I bet the 12 jurors on the OJ trial, oblivious as they were, would even agree with that.