Money and fame, after all, have done nothing to help Ray Lewis. Rae Carruth is facing a possible death penalty, and his stature in the NFL has helped only by making for better headlines. Pete Rose continues to be a pathetic caricature of himself, as blissfully devoid of character or self-awareness as anyone on the planet. And there are so many others - from the tragedy of Kansas City Chiefs linebacker Derrick Thomas, who first lost the use of his legs and then his life in the last month, to Atlanta Falcons safety Eugene Robinson, whose good works will forever be obscured because he solicited an undercover cop for prostitution the night before a Super Bowl. There were the stories of Babe Ruth's carousing on the road that were hushed up by the beat writers because the Babe was so much larger than life.
Nobody hushes up anything anymore.
It's all fair game, and we sit mesmerized, unable to help ourselves. And, perhaps deep down, we thank our lucky stars for our mundane lives that perk along at the same speed, day by predictable day. It may not be much, we tell ourselves, but it beats a criminal record, and it's a lot better than a funeral. We think about everything John Rocker had going for him until he opened his big mouth and ruined his career. Oh, he'll still pitch and be very successful at it, but from now on he'll be a redneck no one will trust.