It’s been interesting, to say the least, to see the Vince Carter saga unfold in recent months.
Just a few short seasons ago, Carter was the high-flying, Michael Jordan-in waiting fledgling “superstar” of the once-woeful NBA Toronto Raptors.
Carter was seen as a player with unlimited talent, an ever-present smile; a nice guy, almost too good to be true.
But time wore on. Holes in Carter’s game—and attitude—appeared to surface.
He didn’t play much defense, as Jordan himself noted at one point when asked about Carter. Carter started to accumulate a series of injuries which kept him hobbling—or on the sidelines—for lengthy periods of time. He seemed to spend an unusual amount of time wincing and lying on the floor during games and not getting up.
He didn’t present as a leader, either. Fans began to wonder why he kibitzed so much with opposing players, and hugged opposing players so often before, and after, games even after games in which the Raptors got hammered.
Eventually, as media and public criticism grew, his friendly approach with the media turned sour.
His answers become less patient. He went public in his demand for a trade, and by the time he left Toronto, he was gone with a whimper, not a bang. Few seemed to notice, or much care.
In terms of how athletes present themselves, how they come across, how they are seen by the media and the public, it is reasonable to ask: what went so wrong for someone who could have “owned” the city of Toronto?
The short answer is, there is no easy answer. Oh, one certainly has a sense that many factors went into the Carter situation beyond his control: too many coaches in too short a time, teammates of limited ability, a fan base that perhaps expected too much.
But some players deal with those things well, and maintain their work ethic on the playing field and a positive demeanor off it.
In the Toronto sports market alone, similar breakdowns have not been uncommon. You could go back to the 70’s and 80’s, when one time Leaf Captain and heroes, Dave Keon and Darryl Sittler, both left town unceremoniously (though most observers simply blamed then team-owner Harold Ballard).
But let’s move to more current times.
Damon Stoudamire was “Mighty Mouse” to Toronto fans when the virtually unknown rookie appeared on the scene in the Raptors inaugural season in the mid 1990’s. Stoudamire was not the most engaging off-court player, but his determination and small stature made him a fan favorite.
Within three seasons, he was unhappy and finally, traded.
Roberto Alomar was perhaps the most loved of all Blue Jays players. He was the most talented second baseman the Jays had ever had, and perhaps the most talented in baseball period, for many years.
He was the heart and soul of the club, and helped get them over the playoff hump by hammering a Dennis Eckersley pitch in Oakland for a home run that turned around a critical playoff series for the Jays, the one that got them over the hurdle into their first World Series.
But after leading them to those two World series wins, and long before the sad “spitting” incident (he spat on an umpire over a disputed call and something the umpire said to him) while a member of the Orioles/Indians, his popularity in Toronto waned.
For example, he was seen as being more interested in preserving his .300 batting average than in playing the last game of the 1995 regular season. No Ted Williams there. (Williams played the last game of the 1941 season, putting his .400 batting average at risk.)
Something had been lost, and when he left as a free agent, he was seen as yet another unhappy player leaving town.
He had some good seasons with Baltimore and Cleveland, but his start never shone as brightly nor was he ever again as popular as he once was in Toronto.
Rare it is that an athlete can play out his career with the same team and leave on a high note, still popular with his teammates and the fans.
Even Joe Montana had to leave San Francisco, as did Jerry Rice. Salary cap issues were part of those departures, to be sure. But there was also a disconnect with the fans and/or the organization that seemed to emerge over time.
Alex Rodriguez was adored in Seattle, and will never be as loved again, as he seeks respect and an elusive championship (to go with a 250 million dollar contract).
The examples are too many of once-loved athletes leaving town with their reputations tarnished, albeit in most cases with a lot of cash in their pockets.
Thankfully, there are still examples of athletes who made it and lasted in a particular market. Wendell Clark with the Leafs could be seen in that light, though even he, too, was criticized by Ballard.
Steve Yzerman has lasted 20 years in Detroit, appreciated by fans and the organization alike.
But unlike the days of Rocket Richard and Jean Beliveau, who left the game and their team as revered heroes, it doesn’t happen very often anymore.
With the NHL lockout still on as of late January, 2005, there remains a huge disconnect between fans and many pro athletes. Oh, fans still go to games, but the dynamic has certainly shifted as salaries have risen astronomically in the last ten years in all sports— and especially since the hockey and baseball work stoppages of the mid-1990’s.
The current lockout has shown without doubt that fans have grown increasingly weary of athletes who many fans see, fair or not, as greedy and unappreciative of what they have.
It was revealing to read a quote from a former NFL player, signed just 10 days before the Super Bowl to play for the Eagles against the Patriots.
The Eagles lost starting tight end Chad Lewis to a serious injury, and the club signed a fellow who has not played in two seasons to fill in for the one game.
The individual, Jeff Thomasson, now works for a company in New Jersey. He has evidently taken vacation-time to play with the Eagles.
His comment upon signing?
"I’m probably the luckiest guy in the world. (But) When I get back, I'll have to work a year straight without vacation," he was quoted as saying. "I'll probably make more during vacation (away from his regular job while playing one game for the Eagles) than my annual salary. Now I know how hard it is to earn a buck in the real world. I worked a lot of hours."
Interesting comment indeed. “Now I know how hard it is to earn a buck in the real world.”
Few of us standing on the sidelines of the professional sporting world would dare risk the physical demands— much less have the talent— to play in the NFL or NHL, for example. We know instinctively that it is very demanding work — work which requires training, years of dedication and a unique level of talent and toughness.
So there is a built-in respect for those athletes on our part. They do something we can’t do, and because they are “entertainers”, and people pay to see them work, they are paid handsomely for their work.
But perhaps what fans are looking is respect back from the players, the recognition that athletes are not the only ones that work hard for their money. The recognition, the acknowledgement that the “average” person works every day in “the real world” as Thomason put it.
And that it is those “average” people who very directly help pay for the astronomical salaries earned by athletes.
The negative feelings the fans have obviously pent up over the past many years might be diffused somewhat, if they felt players really respected the fans.
Fans may be more patient or forgiving with a Vince Carter, or any number of other athletes.
But it needs to be a two-way street.
It will be interesting to see how NHL players will react to the public when the lockout ends— if it ever ends.
It appears as though Jeff Thomason is one athlete who did not know what he had until it was gone — someone who needed to get out into the “real world” to see the light.
Will others?
