Sick and Retired of This
An article in this morning’s paper confirmed the speculation (how weird a phrase is that?) that Lance Armstrong is considering coming out of retirement to go for an eighth Tour de France win next year.
Athletes coming out of retirement. My rage in this matter knows no bounds.
It seems that only the very best athletes do this: Roger Clemens. Michael Jordan (five or six times, I think he retired after each championship). Ryne Sandberg did it – no slouch himself, he’s a Hall of Famer. Mario Lemieux, for health reasons, which I’ll allow. And now perhaps Lance Armstrong.
I don’t dislike these people, I’m just tired of these grown adults jerking us around. Or is that my mistake, by thinking they’re more than their mythology?
They do a farewell tour, a farewell season, a last go-round, letting the American public take their pictures and buy their souvenirs, thinking they’ll have a story for a lifetime: “I saw Clemens’ last start – he’s a dick, but one of the greatest…”
They do it for glory. They still have fight in them. Great. Don’t retire, then. Keep going.
But no, then these pricks go against their word and null their teary-eyed press conference and sign on with a team with brighter colors and what are we supposed to do, be excited that they’re still gracing us with their presence?
You had your chance to play, and we had our chance to watch. If we blinked, so be it.
Retirement is supposed to be closure, for the athlete and the fan. You’re athletes, not rock stars. No encore is expected.
Which brings us to my suggestion: When you retire, give up a kneecap. Really. At your retirement announcement, step away from the mike and take a bullet in the patella, and we’ll know you mean it. Don’t worry, we’ll give you gold-plated crutches so you can motor around your South Beach condo.
Just don’t fuck with us.
Say it like you mean it, only MEAN IT this time.
Incidentally, the same goes with musicians – Cher, the Eagles, Phil Collins, KISS, et al – one farewell tour and that’s IT. At your last show, we slash your vocal cords. We’ll give you a lovely scratch pad (with your name on it, of course) to help you make your silent way through.
Let retirement be about celebration and moving on in life with forthrightness and dignity.
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