As a 23-year-old who's young at heart, one of the few ways to make growing up tolerable is to embrace the scenes of my youth. Maybe not the cloudy haze that once possessed my car on Saturday nights, but rathersuch times as when I scored 30 points in a middle school basketball game.
Sure I know what everyone is thinking: "Who cares about a middle school basketball game?"
The point is, despite reaching my prime in middle school, I still lace up and play the sport that portrays a much different picture these days-players speeding past my slow, larger-than-normal feet and literally jumping over my 5-foot-8 frame.
For some reason I still love the game that makes me look like I'm still in middle school.
And I'm willing to guess most others don't give up sports simply because as the competition gets better, it sprouts back hair.
But what is the right time to retire? This question alone gathers more scrutiny then President Bush's campaign platform. Apparently, any player that no longer puts up consistent statistics, or wears the same colors and number they're known for, is subject to the dreaded, "he waited too long to retire" remarks.
This is also referred to as "tarnished legacy," or if you're Snoop Dogg, "Tarnizzle in Fizzle." I say we allow professional athletes the same philosophy as amateurs: screw reputation, screw legacy, drink a protein shake and play ball. Sounds like an old American proverb, but it's not even close.
I don't understand the media's obsession about what a professional athlete does with the downfall of his career? It's about as interesting as listening to my parents threaten me, and quite similar. It's all bark, and no bite. Just kidding, mom.
But seriously, an athlete's sport is his life. And each one deserves the opportunity to compete for as long as they can make a team roster.
Jerry Rice is the latest victim. When Rice left the San Francisco 49ers to play for the Oakland Raiders, the media suffered more separation anxiety than a mother removed from her new born. Seeing an all-pro in a different jersey after the greatness he achieved wearing the red and white produced a gigantic media complex comparable to watching two rail-thin fashion models obsess about being fat.
Rice played 20 straight seasons in the NFL. That's like me eating 20 powdered doughnuts an hour. It just shouldn't happen. But Rice did, and in the process defied the laws of physics and age. He sealed a legacy and motto that gets to the root of what professional sports aren't: "for the love of the game."
Yet every time an athlete is celebrated for retiring at the pinnacle of his career, it reminds me of what a fellow AU student said.
"You know, I don't think I can live up to the expectations I set after averaging 25 points a game in the 1994 fifth grade regional tournament. Maybe I should sell my basketball and buy a beer." Wait, that was me.
