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Mens sana in corpore sano--a sound mind, a sound body--once formed the simple ancient virtue of sport. But in time too much of athletic competition has come to be writ in mythic proportions. Sports heroes loom larger than life. A sense of god-like immortality accompanies the "thrill" of victory. The divide between life's reality and the fantasy of Elysian fields is being trampled by the universalized pursuit of fame and glory through athletics.
Sports are now expected to transcend life. Too often, athletic stars carry their mantles of "invincibility" off the field. The illusion of immortality, the worshipful adulation of thousands, has become deceptively sustaining, a new opiate of the people. This addictive myth of sports immortality lies in its perpetuation of adolescence.
Sport puts a premium on youth, delaying acceptance of adulthood's incumbent responsibilities.
Today the sports world reflects a state of moral decline directly proportional to its emphasis on adolescence. Today's sports pages reveal a dangerous trend of idolized regression.
On the eve of the 1995 Sugar Bowl, Texas defensive back Ron McKelvey was revealed to be 30-year-old Ron Weaver. Driven by an undiminished desire to play college football, Weaver had changed his identity and illegally prolonged his college football career for six years. The Division I football program of the University of Texas was his Mount Olympus, an untapped fountain of youth.
The delusionary life of Mr. Weaver allowed him to perpetuate his adolescent dreams in the illusion of Ron McKelvey.
The story of a girl's cross-country team in Florida is a true tale of adolescent dreams denied. Outfitted in tight-fitting athletic running shorts called "bun-huggers," the girls of the Gulliver Preparatory School in Miami were disqualified from its state championship meet. The shorts were deemed inappropriate, too risque for high school girls.
In their ruling, the Florida sports powers dismissed the girls' emulation of their more mature counterparts. Whether or not bun-huggers resemble, as alleged, a piece of sexy lingerie, disallowing the running attire common among college-aged and professional runners is perpetuating the girls' adolescence. The Florida sports powers denied the girls their womanhood along with their dreams of glory.
A final episode in this trilogy occurred two weeks ago at the Philadelphia Eagles practice camp. The Eagles' backup quarterback, Randall Cunningham, missed two days of workouts because his wife gave birth to their first child in Las Vegas.
Substituted into the weekend's playoff game against the Dallas Cowboys, Cunningham failed miserably and incurred the wrath of the coaching staff and his teammates.
The consensus of the coaching staff and players was that Cunningham should have missed the birth of his son and, instead, practiced with the team. But it's tough not to side with Cunningham; his presence at the birth of his first child signaled his acceptance of adult responsibilities.
It is a lesson the Ron Weavers of the world and all those who nurture and embrace his fantasies of perpetual youth would do well to learn.
Life is not a game. There is no immortality in victory, only the illusion of continual adolescence. To grow up means discovering this simple, ancient virtue of sport.
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