Sick of Pro Athletes

I have officially punched my ticket out; I’m cashing in my chips. That’s it I’m finished.

I’m out of the professional sports realm

After a winter full of he said/she said, trade demands, “You owe me more because I’m a valued asset to this company, and if you don’t give me my props I want out,” I was a little skeptical.

But this week has put me over the top.

Between Kobe Bryant who told ESPN’s Ric Bucher this week that the only way that he would want to return to the Lakers is if Jerry West was to return.

West recently retired from the NBA’s Memphis Grizzlies, and probably would rather continue the egregious lifestyle of golf and poolside sunbathing than taking on a dilapidated Lakers squad that, with or without Kobe, does not seem to have a promising future in the coming years.

On Wednesday, Bryant officially told ESPN Radio’s Stephen A. Smith that he wanted to be traded, that he was fed up with the misconception and lies that the Lakers could do nothing to patch up their strained relationship.

Then this week Barry Bonds came to New York’s Shea Stadium and roundly received a chorus of boos from the home crowd in Queens on Tuesday night, which proceeded to follow him on Wednesday night. What did Barry tell the media about all this?

“You all better get lost,”

It was a New Yorker who was making headlines this past weekend as Alex Rodriguez has gotten himself into some personal troubles.

Rodriguez, according to the New York Post was seen hitting up a strip club with an attractive blond, and then scurrying into an elevator with said blond in a posh Toronto hotel that was “away from where the majority of the team was staying.”

Then in what seems like the most disgusting display of gambling any human has ever seen, Mike Vick has been linked to the surly, trashy, and inconceivable world of dog fighting.

Vick has sadly been the topic of many off-field incidents this past year. But he recently told an Atlanta television station “Everywhere I go, the fans still love Mike Vick.”

I don’t condemn these athletes; I’ve had my share of faults and am the least authority to play holier than thou on what athletes do in their personal lives, or when they are disrespected.

But between Brett Favre holding the Packers hostage for the past three seasons, and then being “so upset” by the Packers inability to trade for Randy Moss, that he himself demanded to be traded. The Packers could have done themselves a favor and gotten something for him.

Couldn’t you picture it? If I went on a blog or website, or write a column and proceeded to blast my boss, and demanded to be moved to another publication, I would probably be accommodated. Only, I would have to explain to my next employer, and my family why I was fired.

People justify the demanding of trades, or infidelities or egos as someone being just another athlete. But what happened to holding our superstars or celebrities to a higher standard?

If they want to make more money, and act like they are better than the common man (which everyone that sees athletes knows is true anyway), they should act appropriately, and at least have the maturity and decency to keep their personal lives away from the people that care so much for them.

How are parents supposed to tell 7-year old boys from Atlanta, that worship Mike Vick, that he’d like to breed his puppy, Spot, to kill other puppies?

How is Mrs. Rodriguez supposed to tell her 2½-year-old baby, that the woman on the cover of the New York Post isn’t mommy?

How will I explain to my children some day that the homerun champion of my era was digitally enhanced and that people’s heads don’t balloon naturally?

How are these people going to justify spending $300 for a night out of watching abusers, cheaters and crybabies?

The list goes on and on. Justin Miller’s arrest for punching a woman in a New York City nightclub then fleeing the scene seems far too common for the spoiled, rich athlete these days, who asks for everything and then gets it, except for accountability and responsibility for their actions.

So that’s why I’m punching my ticket out of the pro sports world.

Oh who am I kidding? I’m too big of a sucker for this stuff.