American Athletes, the Real Tragedy

The world of American sports was rocked yesterday when it learned that retired NFL player Junior Seau apparently committed suicide by shooting himself in the chest.  Immediately, ESPN went into overdrive covering the story and started speaking about concussions and athlete injuries.


I have a little different take on American athletes.

Now, before I start my tirade, I want everyone to know that I am very sympathetic to Seau’s family for losing him at the young age of 43.  It was widely reported that he was having personal issues and I never wish that upon anyone.

Only one person truly knows what was going on in his head and that was him.

But, I’m a realist, so prepare yourself for the truth as I see it.

Please keep in mind that I was a college athlete and I have been friends with a few professional athletes throughout my life, so I am speaking from experience.  Also, I do understand that there are plenty of professional athletes who are good, intelligent people, just not that many.

The Rise: When you are a star athlete in America; you are coddled, you are taken care of, and your hand is held, generally from high school throughout your professional career.

You walk the halls of your schools with your head held high and your hand holding your dick because you are the shit.  People take your picture, people write articles about you, and people give you free food, money and make you feel like you are a king.

Women spread their legs for you no matter what you look like.  As long as you are a star, your semen is wanted.

You buy the ridiculously huge house, the fat cars, the bling and marry the trophy wife with the huge, fake tits. What a nice, sweet ride. 

The Fall: Then one day you get injured, you get athletically old, no teams want you anymore and your sweet ride is over.

No more pictures, no more autographs and no more free meals anymore.  Suddenly, you have to figure out how to balance your checkbook.

Suddenly, you have to stop passing out $100 bills to all your second, third and fourth cousins.  Suddenly, the girls at the strip clubs are grinding on the younger stud in the VIP room who took your place.

But, since you’ve never been able to peer outside your enormous EGO, you never prepared for this day to come.  You stupidly thought that it would never end.  You sucked the public tit and drained from it all the milk that was available.

It’s easy to erase your problems when you have agents, lawyers, and team managers ready to wipe your ass every time you shit.  But then it all ends.  Then you are left with an empty hollow where your soul should be, where your integrity should be, where your life intelligence should be.

The Real Tragedy: Don’t ever bitch, don’t ever complain, don’t ever whine about life being unfair when you were paid millions of dollars to play a sport.  Let that sink in for a minute, you PLAYED A SPORT.  You have no right to complain about anything.

Welcome to the real world where the 99% of the rest of us normal people live.  We have the same problems you have, but most of us have realized that no one is going to wipe our asses for us.

I feel sad for Seau and his family.  I can only imagine the pain they must be going through.

But I don’t feel sad for my society who created his problems and never taught him how to deal with life.  That’s the real tragedy here.

Our society is rocketing backwards and further away from the things in life that truly matter.


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