When I was a child, I began to get into NFL football. It was 1981, and that turned out to be quite a spectacular season and postseason in the NFL, and set up what felt like a lifelong interest as a fan. The games and story lines and teams were interesting.
One aspect of the NFL that always intrigued me, perhaps because I had just missed it, were the Pittsburgh Steelers. In particular, it was fascinating that the Steelers had won four Super Bowls in a span of six seasons. That is a level of success that had not been seen before or since, at least not in the Super Bowl era. They had a certain mystique about them, coming as they did from a blue collar town. They were a tough, physical team that did not rely on fancy schemes or tricks, and thus seemed to reflect this tough, blue collar identity of the city that they represented and played for.
So part of my being a fan was this fascination with the Steelers, who were never my favorite team, or really even close to it. Yet, a part of me wanted to see them enjoy success, and get back to the Super Bowl. They finally did in the 1995-96 season, and it was a dream match-up (at least for me) against the Cowboys. These two teams had been a contrast in style and image back in the seventies, as the two most successful franchises of that decade. They were the first teams to have a rematch in the Super Bowl, and their meeting in Super Bowl XXX made them the first (and so far only) two franchises to meet in three Super Bowls. It was especially intriguing when the Steelers, who were heavy underdogs, not only made a game of it, but seemed to be driving for potentially the winning score late in the fourth quarter. They had won both of the previous Super Bowls by four points each, and doing 20-17, a touchdown would put them up by four, and possibly secure another victory by that same margin. But they did not score that touchdown, and would lose their first ever Super Bowl as a franchise that year.
About a decade later, they obtained a rookie quarterback who seemed to really have talent. He led Pittsburgh to an incredibly 15-1 regular season, winning their finally 14 straight regular season games, and went to the AFC Championship Game, where they lost to the eventual champions, the New England Patriots. The next season, the Steelers finished 11-5, but went on a tear in the playoffs, reaching the Super Bowl for only the second time since I became a fan. I liked the Seahawks as a franchise, but cannot deny that the draw of finally seeing the Steelers win a Super Bowl proved too much. It was a horrible game, perhaps the most boring Super Bowl that I had ever seen to that point.
The young quarterback who led the offense was, of course, Ben Roethlisberger. He had a difficult name to remember and spell. But his play was stellar. Now, he had led this storied franchise to a fifth overall Super Bowl title, restoring the pride and greatness to a franchise and city that had not won a Super Bowl in over a quarter of a century.
When I got to know a little bit more about him, however, it seemed like there was less and less to like. This is not to detract from his football abilities, which to me remain unquestioned. Ultimately, he led the Steelers to three Super Bowl appearances, and won two of them. You don’t do that by being a chump.
On a personal level, however, he seemed…well, not especially likable, frankly. I remember an early interview with him, where he was laughing and saying that he needed to get used to being whistled at by women. It seemed at the time to be rather arrogant. Given what happened years later, it was almost haunting.
The next thing that struck me as odd followed his first Super Bowl win. He got into a serious motorcycle accident when he was not wearing a helmet. Of course, that is his right, but it still seemed rather irresponsible.
Here's the thing: sports is at it's best, in my opinion, when it reflects the very best that humanity has to offer. For example, the Olympic Games were originally from Ancient Greece, and supposed to showcase the very best athletic accomplishments from the most gifted athletes, aspiring to almost the most divine among us, at least in terms of physical ability. When you marvel at the remarkable athleticism on display in the modern Olympics, or in modern sports - which of course includes North American leagues in team sports - it should transport you to another place, almost, and let you wonder and dream of what we individually can accomplish at our very best. As a fan of the NFL when I was a kid, there are still some plays and game situations that I remember and marvel at. Those memories include Joe Montana seemingly throwing that ball out of reach, then Dwight Clark making the impossible reach to grab the ball for the winning touchdown in "The Catch." It was Mark Bavaro dragging four or so 49ers defenders and struggling for some crucial extra yardage, helping to spark a remarkable Giants comeback, down 17-0 at the time. It was John Elway calmly leading his Broncos on a 98-yard drive for a tying touchdown in the 1986 AFC Championship Game to force overtime, then winning it shortly thereafter. It was Doug Williams proving many skeptics wrong and defying those who doubted that a black quarterback could win a Super Bowl as he threw four touchdown passes in the second quarter, and Washington overcoming a 10-0 first quarter deficit against the favored Denver Broncos and ultimately cruising to a 42-10 win. It was Montana again, this time to Rice, who made a remarkably athletic stretch to just get the ball inside of the pylons for a tying touchdown in Super Bowl XXIII, and then later in the same game, Montana finding John Taylor for the winning touchdown. It was the Buffalo Bills overcoming a 32-point deficit and finding a way, improbably, to come all the way back and ultimately to win the game against the Houston Oilers.
Yes, those were among my favorite memories of all time during the time when I was a huge fan of the NFL. Times when I was able to lose myself in the drama of a game, at least for a few hours. And here's the thing: in most of those instances, I was not even a fan of the team that won. My favorite team was always the New York Giants, and my second favorite team the Jets. Certainly, I was not a 49ers fan, although I always liked and very much respected Joe Montana, Jerry Rice, and the seemingly sagely, wise Bill Walsh. I was pulling against Elway's Broncos most of the time back then. And so on. But there were some instances when fans like me could simply get mixed up into the drama, and marvel at the athletes and circumstances during a game, even if our teams were not doing particularly well, or perhaps were not even involved. For example, one memory that I did not include, but which I also would include as the magic of the NFL back then, was from the 1988 season, when Phil Simms led the Giants to what seemed like a comeback victory, scoring a touchdown down 13-10 late in the fourth quarter for what appeared to be the winning score. But then Joe Montana found Jerry Rice deep, as two Giants defenders collided into each other, leaving Rice open and alone for a surprisingly easy and graceful winning long bomb touchdown to stun the crowd at the Meadowlands. It was heartbreaking, yet also a part of the magic of sports back then. Yet, I still remember it fondly, despite my team being on the wrong end of a magical moment, because it was a perfect illustration of the drama of sports.
But you know what? Those kinds of instances have become rare for me these days. It is perhaps ironic, because on some level, I would have loved all of the 24/7 coverage of sports back then, the way that they have it now. Hell, as a teenager, specifically, I remember enjoying being able to watch ESPN, especially on Sunday evenings, when I could watch all of the highlights from that week in the NFL with Chris Berman and NFL Primetime. It sure felt like they captured the drama of each team, and what they were going through, what they hoped to achieve. There was plenty enough drama.
Yet these days, people often claim that the NFL, and almost all of those major North American sports leagues, have lost something. Recently, I ran into a post on Facebook that was telling for me. It showed popular, opinionated sports show personality Stephen A. Smith making a bored face, and then suggesting something like "Me When I Watch an NFL Game Not Involving My Fantasy League Team." That sounds about right, too. I have met people who hardly seem interested in football in the conventional sense at all. They are more interested in their Fantasy Leagues, and how much money they might win. Fantasy Football immeasurably detracts from the notion that football is a team sport, instead focusing on individual player statistics and such. For the most part, it is gambling and, like gambling, most of the people who feel that they have a "formula" and earned whatever success they had are often simply fooling themselves.
I do know some people who still mostly enjoy following certain teams. That includes a guy who is still into his team, the Dallas Cowboys. Yet, even this seems narrow-minded and self-interested, because he at least claims to lose interest in football when his Cowboys are not involved. So following that logic, he only likes football when it involves his team, and only when they win, at that. Otherwise, he at least claims not to have any interest in it.
How boring.
Because that is what sports has become for so many. An exclusively self-interested thing where people can win money and get a frankly largely undeserved sense of accomplishment by winning in gambling.
So where does Ben Roethlisberger fit into all of this?
Well, to me, he became the main symbol of an era when sports in general, and football in particular, started to feel a whole lot less fun and innocent.
As almost every football fan knows, Roethlisberger was charged with a serious crime. It never went to trial, because he settled outside of court first. But the fact that the allegations were credible enough that it was going to go to trial, and that he had to settle outside of court, felt almost like a kind of admission of guilt, at least to me. Then, when he again found himself facing very similar charges maybe one year later, most of the world began to look at this man as truly despicable.
Somehow, all of this was forgotten, simply swept under the rug. Both times, Roethlisberger got what feels like a slap in the wrist compared to what he could have, and probably should have faced. He remained an active quarterback making millions of dollars to play a game on Sundays in autumn. Before long, the sports shows began to refer to him once again as "Big Ben," rather affectionately. It was sickening to see all of the love and praise he received recently in those broadcasts of his games, especially the playoff game against the Chiefs. Almost like those charges - and remember, these were very serious charges of what amounted to rape - were not even glossed over, but outright swept under the rug. Here they were, praising his character, his competitiveness, his toughness. He was described as a family man, and there were even adoring fans (including some young women) holding posters with his face prominently on them.
Sickening.
Now, it could be argued that he was merely a young man who made mistakes, and probably - hopefully - learned better since. But this is a double-standard, because many of these same people who would make this argument would be a whole lot less forgiving of a young woman who was found to have made false allegations of rape against a famous man. Also, it makes you wonder why other famous athletes paid a much higher price in similar circumstances, such as Mike Tyson and Michael Vick, which I will get into later.
First of all, it is hard for me not to view him as a criminal. Because frankly, the evidence sure seemed to be there that "Big Ben" forced himself on a woman. Given those comments he gave in that old interview, the one about the need to get used to being whistled at by women, it felt like his rationalizing to the woman, his apparent victim, that a lot of women would be thrilled to have sex with the star quarterback of the Pittsburgh Steelers feels consistent. Maybe I am being overly idealistic here, but if I were him, it feels like it would be necessary to do anything and everything possible to prove myself innocent of these charges, if I actually was innocent. The only reason that I would settle out of course is if, indeed, I was guilty of those charges.
And of course, when he settled out of court, and then again got in trouble for the same thing about a year later, it began to feel like too much of a pattern, and too much to dismiss it as mere coincidence. The star quarterback of the Pittsburgh Steelers, indeed. It was hard not to compare him to Michael Vick, who was also a star quarterback who engaged in not merely despicable, but outright criminal, behavior. But at least Vick was sent to jail, and did hard time. Yes, he came back to the NFL and got a six figure salary before too long. Like with Roethlisberger, I could not stand Vick, and actively rooted against him. Yet the parallels between the two quarterbacks raised an interesting, and rather obvious, question: why did one get off so comparatively lightly, while the other actually went to jail? In America today, you can never dismiss race as an obvious possibility for the differences in how each of these two men saw their cases handled.
Another comparison could be made with Mike Tyson. After all, Tyson was still the most famous, preeminent boxer in the world at the time that he was charged with rape. He lost years, presumably some of his best years, and presumably also lot a ton of money along with those lost years. Roethlisberger, like Tyson, was also at the pinnacle of his success, having won two Super Bowl titles in recent seasons. Unlike Tyson, he did not get sent to prison, and while e lost some millions (at least that much), he still obviously made many millions of dollars when he very well could have - and frankly probably should have - spent that period doing hard time instead. Again, you have to ask why one got one outcome, and the other got a much different one. And whether or not people like to admit it, race is not something that you can easily dismiss as perhaps the root of why one seemed to get away with it, and the other...well, not so much.
Yet another example could be Ray Rice. I remember rooting for Rice when he was a star running back at Rutgers. A part of me was very happy for him when he won a Super Bowl with the Baltimore Ravens. But any admiration for the man went away immediately once it was revealed how much of a monster he is. Had the Ravens done what the Steelers did with Roethlisberger, and kept Rice on no matter what, and tried to sweep this whole thing under the rug, they would have become a team that I would hope to see lose on a weekly basis. Surely, it hurt the team in terms of talent when they let him go. But to their credit, they let him go. Perhaps it is because of the video that was made public, and which put the league - which if memory serves correctly, initially tried to sweep the incident under the rug before the video was made public - that there was greater pressure, and the league and the Ravens both felt that they had no choice. Perhaps if some kind of video proof of Roethlisberger's misdeeds had become public, as happened in the case of Rice, the Steelers and the league both would have been forced to let him go and face the full legal ramifications for his actions. Instead, in the absence of video proof, they went the other way. Frankly, all that over the top hype about what a great quarterback and a stand-up, family type of guy he really is smacks of an obvious attempt to cover up the controversy. Because Roethlisberger is an ugly blight on the league, and my suspicion is that most fans of the league, and most of the so-called pundits and sports guys who make their living covering the NFL, know it all too well. They just lack either the honesty or integrity to admit it.
You know, I will say that I still enjoy sports, and even NFL football. Obviously, it has been covered here plenty of times, so that fact should be obvious enough. There is something about the statistics that really piques my interest. Also, it does still take me back a bit to my childhood, and the magic that I felt when younger regarding sports.
However, like with almost everything else that shined brighter and tasted sweeter during younger years, sports also seems to be different, and much less enjoyable these days. They are not quite as welcome a distraction as they used to be. Indeed, I follow sports, mostly the NFL, the NBA, the NHL, tennis, soccer (especially World Cup, but also the French Ligue 1) and some other sports, including the Olympics. But it seems to have all changed over the years. There used to be a reason to root for a team. When I was a kid, the Giants had a certain blue collar style and identity, at least relative to other teams in the league. They had a conservative, physical, hard-working approach, which I came to appreciate and, even to some extent, to identify with. That helped to make their victories feel a bit like my victories at the time.
Something feels very different these days. There is more player turnover, which means not only less loyalty by players to teams, but also more news about contract negotiations and the money involved, which exposes the suddenly transparent greed on both sides. It all seems to be about money and individual accomplishment, and the Fantasy Football leagues also seem to reinforce this, especially from the vantage point of fans. It feels like it is less about teams, and more about individuals, and this is not a change for the better.
Yes, sports feels much different these days. But it feels that way not just because I am older, and some of the old magic is gone. I used to have the ability to get completely into the game and lose myself, so that the world and all of it's problems seemed almost to disappear for a few hours. But that is gone. It is more difficult than ever to lose myself completely in a game, because there is so much more talk about individuals, and not teams. And since there is the constant reminder that these players are performing for their next contract negotiations, and that they might not be on this team any longer if they can make more money elsewhere, it feels more difficult to root for them, and for the team. Also, players feel more spoiled and full of themselves than ever before, and seem to where this false sense of entitlement on their sleeves more than they ever used to do. Players do dances and celebrate after almost literally any good play made, and this too grows tiresome. Again, it is all about "me," and not so much about "we." Just a sign of the times.
Indeed, sports feels more like a sign of the times. Even with sports, which used to be a diversion, an escape, there is the reflection of the ugliest aspects of this world. And for me, nobody in the NFL seems to reflect that quite as much as Ben Roethlisberger.
Now he is gone, his NFL career (most likely) done. Far from heaping praise on him, I am glad that he is gone, at least. He more than anyone else in the league symbolized that stereotype of the big, dumb jock getting away with horrible behavior and being a generally awful human being, just because he has some real athletic talent. It was not that he became a suitable villain, somebody I enjoyed seeing lose, although I was obviously happier when he did. No, it is more like I found him (and by extension, his team, since they went to such lengths to protect him) sickening, and did not want, much less need, any reminders that he was still playing when, in my opinion, he should have been behind bars.
Let us remember that sports, while often mimicking certain aspects of life, and inspiring many of us as it does with tremendous athletic ability as well as mental discipline, nevertheless falls under the umbrella of entertainment. It is no wonder, then, that some of us get a little too wrapped up in sports from time to time. Hell, it is as good an escape from the grim realities of the world as any. But that does not give us, the fans of these sports and the athletes who play and define them, the right to simply pretend like the people who play them are always heroes who have character traits that we should admire. To pretend that someone who has shown himself to be not just tremendously stupid off the field, but to outright engage in criminal behavior precisely because he believes the hype surrounding his position in a popular sport is now someone to be admired is making us at least partially responsible. After all, he seems to have thought that he could pretty much do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted because he was the star quarterback of one of the league's iconic franchises. In other words, he was convinced that he could get away with it, because the rules that govern over everyone else do not apply to him. He is, after all, the star quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers. And when we celebrate him, and sweep away the inconvenient aspects of a very disturbing past because it makes us uncomfortable, then we very much justify his sense of entitlement to engage in those kinds of behaviors, and for other sports stars to get away with it, as well. In other words, we are a part of the problem, and not necessarily a small part.
Maybe I was alone in my contempt for the man after those incidents. Certainly, there ahve been times where it felt that way, and never as much as recently, when people - by which I mean the adoring fans - praised him and showered him with more love than i have seen for almost any other athlete. All of the stations seemed to sing his praise. Women were holding up giant sized posters of his damn face at the Chiefs game. Most other quarterbacks - even Super Bowl winning quarterbacks, do not quite get that much love when they depart. It all felt very forced and, frankly, disingenuous to me. I for one could not enjoy his presence in the league for well over a decade now. It was hard to forget his very bad behavior of the past, and hard to gloss over reprehensible acts that we would not forgive so easily if they had been committed against our sisters, or our daughters, or our mothers. He should not be above the law. But he seems to have indeed been above the law, in terms of getting away with something that any of the rest of us ordinary folks would not necessarily have gotten away with. And that, at least in good part, is on us, at least if we allow it to be. Shame on Ben Roethlisberger, absolutely. But also shame on us for now praising this person who was evidently such a monster. Who's to say how much he has changed since then, or even if he has even changed, quite frankly? He was a blight on football in particular, and in sports - and perhaps our celebrity obsessed society - more generally.
So no praise for him now. Not from me, anyway.
What can I say about him, now that his NFL career is apparently, most likely over?
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
