The Legend and The Fall

The Legend and the Fall
“Long gone are the days of a golden bounty. The red that streamed from your bloodshot pores have dried up and are since then a mere memory. The wistful gust has swept you and your likeness away from the gaze of the watchful eye. Long live your glory. Fore another, like you, will rise up to take your place then inevitably Fall to meet a parallel fate. They say your type will come again every once in a while, but to me it will never be the same. “
--PJA

The year is 1995. It was a year that embodied the spirit of creativity with the birth of “Yahoo!” and the release of Windows 95, but it also was marred with tragedy in the wake of the Oklahoma City bombing and the ethnic cleansing of the Bosnian War. While a set minority of Americans was self-aware and consequently glued to their television sets and newspapers, the majority went about business as usual. They worked the usual 9-5. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner; 24/7. It was nothing compelling, just the daily routine.

Flash forward to the Fall. Basketball season had commenced, and as a 10 year old boy I was giddy with excitement. I was excited for two reasons: one, Michael Jordan had returned to basketball; and two, I was finally figuring out what it meant to truly be a “fan.” I remember fondly when my mother bought me my first pair of “MJs.” I thought I was the coolest kid on the block walking around in a Pippen jersey and my Jordan X’s. Looking back, this was my routine. Every other day I would wake up with excitement, anticipating watching my beloved Chicago Bulls. As I tuned in to WGN in the middle of the day, I would patiently wait and watch whatever was scheduled for programming that season. Cubs’ game, Family Matters, Bulls. This was my 9-5. Little did I know that I would be privileged enough to witness the greatest athlete at the pinnacle of his career take arguably the greatest assembled sports team on the brink of history.

Flash forward further into 2001. What happens now? 9/11, W. Bush, and Wikipedia among other things. Since that incredible 72-10 season the Bulls went on to win two more championships, MJ retired, and then unretired. Now a guard with the Washington Wizards, MJ’s diminished capacity is evident as his stats begin to plummet each year. The 1995-96 season was the last time Jordan managed over 30 points per game. At this point in his career one would ask, “What more does he need to prove?” Long before the 2001 season started he was already a six-time NBA champion, a five-time MVP with countless other accolades and superlatives, all the while with praise and recognition from his supporters and opponents alike. Yet there he was-- a broken, albeit determined old general refusing, in all his stubbornness, to hand over the torch to the new generation.

As a young fan I was angry. I was angry because I loved my team, but he was no longer on it. I was angry because I loved my player, but he was no longer him. It took me a while to learn that it wasn’t truly anger, but passion. With passion, you become emotional, and when you’re emotional, well you tend to do or say things that you probably wouldn’t otherwise. And that’s when I realized it. These players are exhibiting the same passion as I was. The only difference is that I am living vicariously through them. Whenever they win, I win. Whenever they fail, it feels twice as worse because it was beyond my control.

Towards the end of Michael Jordan’s career we all knew his celebrated story would come to a close, but we still longed for the chapters of glory and supremacy. Much to the chagrin of many of MJ’s followers, he continued his career until the end of the 2002-03 season. After all was said and done it beget the question “Did he tarnish his legacy by playing past his prime?”

There are a number of players and fighters that suffer from this unrequited love of the game; Brett Favre, George Foreman, and Nolan Ryan come to mind but are only a few. These athletes served as pioneers and ambassadors to their respective sports. These are the same sports, and we are the same fans, that held them high on their idol-like pedestals yet shunned them when they could no longer perform the same feats that we had grown accustomed too. While their bodies have failed them, there is no denying the perseverance and determination of these “over-the-hill” competitors.

These athletes “stay behind” for a number of reasons. Whether it is for the money, the fame, the glory, or what have you, it is essentially a matter of “to each his own.” However, finding this definitive point of the end is as dramatic as the storied careers of these so-called legends. Does he or she lose “it” when they can no longer perform physically? Or, do their hearts give out because their love for the game had painfully faded away. Even still, there is the possibility that the game has simply evolved beyond them. What ever the reason, we should not try to expedite the explosion of a dying star when it is beyond our reasoning and against our deepest wishes.

But beyond the circus of celebrity stardom and the fanatical romance there are a small handful that seem to be an exception to the rule. The unwritten rule that states an athlete must hang it up when old age and a slump inevitably collide. As the supposed Fall passes, these competitors manage to Spring forth with life anew, akin to the Phoenix rising from its ashes. Through ignorance, pride or perhaps both, these athletes are reborn with a new sense of hunger for greatness or glory. It is as if it was never tasted before. The aforementioned Brett Favre posted his best statistical season in his “last” (well is it really?) season with the Minnesota Vikings. He did not set personal bests when he was in his “prime” with the Green Bay Packers. Even the “old timers” are managing a comeback. Take Randy Couture, for instance. He is a veteran of mixed martial arts, a decorated collegiate athlete, a five-time world champion in the UFC, and he is 46 years young. His drive and conditioning is astonishing as he continues to win fights decisively.

These superstars cannot rely on a big heart and sheer tenacity alone. Today’s medical advancements and nutritional regimens have afforded these athletes with something they long pined for—Time. Just a little more time for one more play, one more game, one more fight. In conjunction with medical breakthroughs, these standards have become mortal barriers that can be broken with the gift of athleticism and the values of hard work and determination.

However, regardless of longevity, they must one day halt their daily routine and transition into the daily matter we call life. “When that will be” is a question that should be answered by them in spite of how we feel as fans. If I were to tell these heroes one thing it would be “listen to your body but follow your heart.” And if I were to tell my fellow fans one thing it would be “enjoy it while it lasts because you will never remember anyone else who made you feel this great about the game.” There will never be as great a sunshine we had experience when you played the game, or when you fought the fight. And even as we continue to stand as dusk falls, we yearn for the sun rise that made us feel appreciated. We yearn for that defining moment in your career where you had us say “This is it. It doesn’t get any better.” When night falls and relevancy fails you, all I can say is I love you and thank you.



--PJA