Sports stars are role models, whichever way you spin it

Can our sporting stars be rich, famous and virtuous?

Why should we expect sharp vision and strong, well co-ordinated limbs to produce model human beings?

What do we expect from our sportsmen and women and are they delivering it?

The short answer is we should expect our sporting heroes to act in an honourable way because they represent their country, accept the huge pay packets and adulation that go with sporting excellence, and most importantly, because they are role models for younger generations. They carry the aspirations of a nation whenever they run out onto a sporting field - at home or abroad. They are our idols. Because of these things, they voluntarily place themselves in a special category of national hero. We expect of them the same excellence in behaviour off the field (or golf course, tennis court, or wherever) as they demonstrate on it.

Are our sportsmen and women delivering? The vast majority - yes, but an unhealthy minority - no.

The case for “I just want to be remembered as a sportsperson,” was put recently by 2004 AFL Brownlow medallist, Chris Judd of the West Coast Eagles). He said he wanted to be known as a “good footballer - nothing more, nothing less”. Sorry Chris, it doesn’t work that way.

What does it say about cricket lovers in Australia (and increasingly, however begrudgingly, their counterparts in England during the current Ashes Test series) when Shane Warne is revered for his outstanding achievements on the cricket pitch with scant reference to his actions off the field?

The apologists for Warne (and other sporting “heroes”) would have you believe he doesn’t deserve the treatment he receives from sections of the media, like the British tabloids. Why not? Because Warne’s defenders insist that sporting heroes are simply that - people who excel on a sporting field who should be admired for that, and that alone. However, it’s exactly because he is a national hero that young people might follow his example in more than just taking up spin bowling. They may believe that his behaviour (and that of others) off the field is acceptable.

The day I was asked to offer my opinion on this topic, Warne, who probably most closely typifies the best and the worst qualities in our sporting heroes, wrote himself into the cricketing history books as the first bowler to take 600 Test wickets.

The next day, on its website, the Sydney Morning Herald labelled its link to a commentary piece by The Telegraph reporter Michael Henderson, with his opening line: “Shane, all is forgiven.” (August 12, 2005) It contained the following sentence that typifies the attitude of many to the consistently wayward Warne:

The injuries, weight problems, drugs bans, associations with bookmakers, hair styles, indiscrete text messages and the separation from his wife, Simone, all paled against this moment.

Did they? Maybe for that moment but surely not for long.

You could add to that litany of indiscretions the controversy over giving up smoking, the so-called “Joe the cameraman” affair and a long list of temporary lovers.

Others have not been as charitable. In the Sydney Morning Herald, a few weeks earlier, on the eve of the spinner’s marriage break-up, staff writer Paul Sheehan suggested Warne “should never again be allowed to debase the Australian colours by wearing them”. He described him as “a spinner in every way” and “a proven, serial, reckless, inveterate liar” (July 4, 2005).

But there he was at Old Trafford in Manchester on the opening day of the second Ashes Test, on August 11, 2005, holding aloft the ball to the adoration of the English crowd after dismissing English opener Marcus Trescothick. Then came the poignant moment when he kissed a white band on his wrist - a gift from his daughter. What the crowd was applauding was an outstanding sporting moment.

A day or so earlier, at the height of the hype after Australia’s two-run loss to England in the second Test, Warne, in talking up his chances for Old Trafford, suggested he would turn down a beautiful woman to be able to bowl a few more balls like the famous “ball of the century”, his first delivery in England in 1993 that bamboozled batsman Mike Gatting (Gold Coast Bulletin, August 3, 2005). The apologists would have you believe that it’s part of the larrikin that is Shane Warne.

I’m not only picking on Warne. He’s no orphan when it comes to sexual indiscretions by sports stars. Remember the furore surrounding former AFL Kangaroos captain Wayne Carey being caught having an affair with a team mate’s wife? Or the controversy surrounding the alleged rape of a woman at Coffs Harbour by some members of the Sydney Bulldogs rugby league team? Or the behaviour of a member of Britain’s sporting “royal family”, David Beckham?

And there are not only sexual indiscretions. How widely do you want to interpret “being virtuous”? Where does cheating rate? Or taking drugs? Or unacceptable behaviour in a nightclub either at home or while on tour interstate or overseas? Recall the performance of several of the Wallabies at a nightclub in South Africa recently that led to one being sent home in disgrace? As I polished the initial draft of this piece near the end of August 2005, the national broadcaster was reporting that two St George Illawarra rugby league players had been fined for “inappropriate behaviour” at a hotel in Wollongong (August 29, 2005).

The papers and tabloid television programs seem to be filled with sports stars’ indiscretions. That might seem an exaggeration, but few things will get politics off the front pages as fast as a sporting story and while often it involves an outstanding performance by an individual or team, equally, we continue to read about our sporting idols’ indiscretions.

There are many thousands of sportspeople who seem to be able to control their hormones. Or do they? Maybe they are just more discrete about their behaviour off the sporting field. Maybe they are not that famous that the opposite sex flocks around them and then runs to the tabloid papers and current affairs programs to cash in on their new-found fame by association.

The apologists for our wayward sporting icons blame the media for the unwanted attention.

Perhaps the question is not “Can our sporting stars be rich, famous and virtuous?” It should be: “Why shouldn’t they be?”

Part of the argument centres on the public lives of celebrities. Sporting icons are celebrities - they are paid extremely well for their achievements and some might suggest they have too much time on their hands. As an example, a golfer who wins a tournament in the United States can earn more in four days than the average Australian takes home from more than 20 years of nine-to-five toil.

As celebrities, the lives of sporting heroes are public property. Their adoring fans can’t get enough of them. There are rows of sports magazines in your local newsagency. We give each other sports books for birthdays and Christmas gifts. The media chronicles their every move. They cease to have a private life but they are paid handsomely for all the attention both on and off the field. (When I “googled” “Chris Judd” to find his online column about just wanting to be remembered as a footballer, two of the other websites thrown up offered - at a price - memorabilia associated with his Brownlow win.)

So a privileged life of fame and fortune comes at a price - the price of privacy.

No sporting success comes without enormous effort and sacrifice. Reaching the top in any sport is not easy. Think for a moment of the hours and hours of training Grant Hackett has put in over the years to remain a world champion and the mighty effort he needed to win gold at the Athens Olympics with lung problems. There’s someone who’s rich and famous, and scandal-free. When he’s on the front pages it’s for outstanding achievements, like being unbeaten over 1,500 metres for 9 years (The Courier-Mail, August 2, 2005).

What do we expect from our sportsmen and women? We expect them to represent Australia to the best of their ability, to compete honestly, and to behave in an acceptable way. We don’t expect to have to keep making excuses for them.

When Warne was banned from cricket for 12 months for drug taking in 2003, the Gold Coast Bulletin captured the mood of the time with the page 1 headline, “Will we forgive him … again” (February 12, 2003). It appears so, for those who argue that what happens “off the field” should stay “off the field”.

But why should we forgive them? What kind of role models do the likes of Shane Warne, Wayne Carey, the Bulldogs players, David Beckham and various rugby league and union stars provide for the potential sporting stars of tomorrow? Totally unacceptable ones I would suggest. And while we continue to forgive and forget, we are allowing a few of our sporting greats (the minority of whose private lives leave much to be desired) to continue with their unacceptable behaviour.