Sigh.
“Athletes speak in canned cliches. It’s boring. They never say what they really feel.”
“HBO’s 24/7 wasn’t entertaining enough. We barely got any sense of the players’ true personalities.”
“All we get is soundbytes in scrums after the game’s finished. We don’t get to hear what players are saying in the heat of the moment.”
Maybe—just maybe—we don’t get these things because time and time again so many fans and pundits demonstrate that they can’t handle the privilege.
While half the hockey world was busy excoriating Canadiens defenceman P.K. Subban for having the temerity to grab his jersey and show off a little bit last week after scoring the game-winning goal in overtime against a fierce divisional and geographic rival, the other half was pointing out that Subban’s celebration would be considered understated in the NFL and that everyone should get a grip.
Lo and behold, Seahawks cornerback Richard Sherman gave all the delicate flowers among us more than enough evidence Sunday night to convict him in one of those courts of Sports Class that so many arbiters of Athletes As Moral Examples To Us All love to hastily convene whenever some poor pro does something these protectors of our precious sensibilities deem inappropriate.
Well, good for Richard Sherman. Not for the things he said or the way he said them, but for being himself, for not pulling a veil over the fires that clearly burn so passionately inside him. And, of course, for giving us a YouTube clip that will live on years from now.
It’s not that Sherman should be waking up this morning proud of all the things he screamed in his post-game interview with Erin Andrews, in which he proclaimed to the world that he was the best cornerback in the NFL while calling 49ers receiver Michael Crabtree a “sorry” receiver. It was arrogant, mean-spirited and, most of all, unnecessary—Sherman’s play had already done more than enough talking.
But… tough. That’s what you get when you take a world-class athlete, overflowing with testosterone and about 30 seconds removed from making the biggest play of his career at the climax of a brutally violent game that booked him a ticket to the Super Bowl for the first time, and shove a microphone in his face.
You do that and you take your chances—and honestly, those poor, easily scandalized fans among us should be amazed that he didn’t drop an F-bomb or six.
So yes, Sherman talks smack. And sure, Subban showboats. And so what? Here’s what those guys don’t do: Give boring interviews, pretend they’re somehow not fired up after making great plays or make fans wonder how much they care about their jobs. These men are passionate, talented and so competitive you can see it from the cheap seats.
Some might recall the time Sherman taunted Patriots quarterback Tom Brady on Twitter after a Seattle victory over New England, dropping a “U Mad Bro?” onto a picture of him yelling at Brady. Sherman received so much criticism that he deleted the tweet.
Mostly forgotten was what that tweet said: “(Brady) told me and (Seahawks safety) Earl (Thomas) to see him after the game when they win…”.
So Brady talks trash on the field, Sherman responds where everyone can see it and the sports world—the world that constantly wants more access, fewer filters, more microphones and better camera angles—nearly faints. Sherman himself summed it up fairly well in a following tweet: “These ppl are hilarious … They have the audacity to call someone classless when they are name calling over the net.”
The behaviour is so hypocritical it would deserve to be laughed off, if only this kind of firestorm wasn’t going to make athletes less likely to speak out, or to punctuate a huge play with an explosion of unrestrained emotion; to make coaches less likely to allow cameras in the dressing room, microphones in the huddles or their players to do anything but rattle off a few canned one-liners about playing hard and giving 110 percent.
So good job, you precious guardians of our poor children—and isn’t it great that you have the children to use as victims whenever something offends your own definition of what sports should be? The children, who never, ever celebrate their goals in street hockey with reckless abandon; who never tease and taunt one another on the playground; and who must never, ever hear or see an athlete acting like anything but a politician in a jersey.
Congratulations! You’ve helped make sports more boring. And good news! I bet Sidney Crosby’s going to be asked today what it means to be named captain of Team Canada—no doubt that riveting and revealing interview will be much more to your liking.