How great would it be if sports really did have a Hall of Shame? Well, two, actually. One for college athletes and a much, much larger structure (think warehouse the approximate size of a par-5 at Augusta) devoted to men and women who earn insanely large paychecks despite possessing the common sense of a soda can.
Oh, the possibilities. Adam "Pacman" Jones slipping the coveted seafoam-green blazer over the shoulders of Michael Phelps as the crowd throws every ounce of lung capacity into booing these fallen blockheads. Marion Jones tearing up while giving her acceptance speech. Meanwhile, Terrell Owens is chatting up Bobby Petrino and Plaxico Burress in the background.
On the big screen is Lifetime Achievement Award recipient Mark McGwire blending two great Roys, Orbison and Hobbs, by donning dark sunglasses and a baseball cap while accepting (the disgraced baseball slugger hasn't been seen in public since testifying well, not really at a congressional hearing on steroids in 2005). Front and center at the head table is hockey player Sean Avery. Listening to McGwire speak, Avery, unable to control his emotions, dabs his eyes.
If only. In the meantime, all we can do is sit back, shake our heads and mumble to ourselves as prominent athlete after prominent athlete disposes of his/her good name. Wad it up, toss it in. No biggie. You're still living large at a time when so many of the people who once looked up to you are existing paycheck to paycheck. And that's those who still receive a paycheck..
Maybe one day Alex Rodriguez will notice the damage he's done by his admitted steroid use. Maybe, but I doubt it. A-Rod makes $27.5 million yearly and spent the first 15 years of his professional baseball career being glossed as this supremely gifted athlete who steered clear of performance-enhancing assistance. Somewhere along the line he was probably credited with all things good in this world be it the sun shining or the birds chirping.
Rodriguez resides at the peak of life's mountaintop, which means he needs to squint to barely make out the rest of us mere mortals down here at the montain's base. By June baseball fans will be done booing A-Rod and back to cheering him, which is nearly as unfair as the fact he cheated in the first place.
Maybe by the time Rodriguez retires there will be a Hall of Shame. Doubt it, but maybe. And who better than McGwire to introduce him. That is if Big Mac has left his house by then.
PARTING SHOT: I knew there was something about the annual NBA All-Star Weekend that I could grow to love. And, no, it's not LeBron James' sunglasses (what, was the slam dunk competition being held outdoors? Sorry, the cool Marvin Gaye imitation from the 1983 All-Star Game isn't working for you).
And here it is: It's over.
Didn't watch the game. Haven't for years. Won't next year, either. Four quarters of matador defense isn't any more appealing than the constant one-upping that goes on. Wait until a legit superstar like LeBron, Kobe or Dwade blows out a knee during All-Star Weekend and see what happens. That is, after commissioner David Stern comes to after fainting.