Rolier Than Thou

by Pete Bodo

Afternoon, everyone. Cruising through the comments on my last post (Blow-ing It, below) I had an epiphany of sorts. I realized that the term "role model," while sounding nice and relevant in a Sociology 101 kind of way, is freely used to describe a relationship and a degree of influence that don't  really exist. It's hard to question any aspect of an idea as splendid and seemingly, well, necessary as that of the "role model," right?

And that's just where the problem lies. We want for role models to exist, and we're under a measure of social pressure to embrace idea of role models. Who doesn't want his kid - or everyone's kids - to follow a good example, or emulate the "right" people? But the problem is that kids (and adults) have no real desire, to borrow a familiar phrase, to "be like Mike (Jordan, the NBA superstar)" Nice as such jingles sound, people only want to be like Mike in the most superficial sense (who wouldn't want to be rich and famous as a basketball player rather than, say,  the guy who invented a better rectal thermometer)? The sports marketing folks would certainly like for us to think that they're performing a valuable societal service by creating role models for our youth, but are they really?

Maybe the pro sports establishment is just using this appealing idea that sports can provide this valuable social service to boost its own status in society's eyes - to justify what sports is all about, and how the sports entities do business. After all, there are still benighted folks out there who think that A-Rod (the New York Yankee) is grossly overpaid, compared to a dedicated elementary school teacher in a failed neighborhood, or an enlisted man or woman clinging to a rifle and cowering in a ditch in Afghanistan. That is, there's a certain amount of pressure to make A-Rod (and any other athlete) seem more significant than his job description may suggest.

So the question is: Are star athletes role models in any meaningful way? I decided to get the answer to this question not by trying to interpret what kids today are thinking and doing, but by going back to my own formative years and asking myself, How much influence did Michael Jordan (or Joe Namath, Bart Starr, Monica Seles, or Willie Mays) really have on me, and to what degree can he or she be said to have served as a "model" for me?

The more I thought about this, the more convinced I became that while I was as besotted with sports and as "normal" as anyone,  I never wanted to be, or be like, Mike -  or, in my case, Whitey Ford, Mickey Mantle, Jim Brown, or Del Shofner. Those guys were my "heroes," sure. But it was in a very limited if powerful way. Like any kid, I wondered if I could possibly be the next Mickey Mantle, or imagined that one day I would be, but it was a fantasy - even then I knew and at some level understood that I couldn't possibly be the next anyone, because there was only one of everyone. That didn't deter me from fantasizing that I was Mickey Mantle, but that's very different from embracing Mantle as a role model. I also fantasized about dating this or that movie star. Did that make Donna Reed my "role model?"

In fact, as much as I watched and admired those gridiron or basketball heroes (Jerry West and Elgin Baylor, anyone?), as much as I might have imitated the way they swung a bat or shot a jumper, their influence never overflowed the niche in which they were important to me. I'm not sure what I thought when I was offered my first clandestine beer or cigarette, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't, Gee, what would Moose Skowron do if he were in my shoes? Furthermore,Yogi Berra might have put it into my mind to drink my first Yoo-Hoo, but I'm pretty sure that was about the extent of his influence on my life.

So let's try to think of Richard Gasquet in those terms. X-number of kids out there admire or even idolize Gasquet - that's a given. What do they do when he gets suspended for testing positive for cocaine? I'm not sure, but I'm pretty certain they don't rush out to try to get some cocaine. Hail, maybe being busted for using cocaine (if in fact he's guilty) makes Gasquet a cautionary tale who sends a more powerful and valuable message than anything he could as a role model who. . . doesn't do drugs. He doesn't do drugs - so what?  He doesn't write backwards, worship the devil,  bite dogs, jump-kick old ladies or eat worms, either.

I imagine that any youngsters who looked to Gasquet as a paragon did so because of his game and because of the image he projected. If and when he ceases to be out there on the tour, he ceases to be a role model, hero, paragon, example - you name it. Youngsters, if that's who we're really worried about, move on. They don't go astray because a guy they most liked on a tennis court was suspended for using cocaine. Kids are pretty good about that kind of thing, and besides -  the world is choc-a-bloc with stars to whom any kid can hitch his wagon.

At the time I was most impressionable, and most prone to idolize sports stars, I also hadn't the foggiest notion about the real dangers posed by drugs, booze or anything else. When someone died of a drug overdose (Baltimore Colts defensive end Big Daddy Lipscomb), it was just something weird that I didn't quite understand but recognized as something to be sad about simply because dying is a bad thing.  Maybe kid are different today; can they really be that different?

You want to know the truth, I think it's the adults who get most upset by failed role models, because it's the adults who imbue those people with far more powers of influence than they really have. And it's the adults who want to shelter their kids from some grim realities that they'll learn about soon enough, and who fear that a fallen idol will take others down with him. I think that fear is misplaced. Bad decisions are not a communicable disease, they're dormant in everyone to greater or lesser degrees.

I would be surprised if Gasquet influenced anyone in an even remotely meaningful way (beyond adopting a one-handed backhand). Everyone leads a unique life, and everyone is enough of an individualist - sometimes in the most perverse sense of the word - to follow his or her own path, picking and choosing influences and attitudes in a way that, if it isn't exactly random, is at least surprisingly and often delightfully unpredictable. We often choose idols who couldn't be more different from us, or what we're destined to become. Opposites attract, and how is that supposed to translate to any kind of real influence for those who buy into the "role model" meme?

So that's what I got to thinking about, but let's make one of the most awkward transitions of all time and say that if you were looking for a role model today, and you were a girl, Dinara Safina wouldn't be a bad place to start. Seriously, let's stop for a moment to acknowledge that Safina has pulled off something that may represent more of an accomplishment than actually winning a Grand Slam event: she lifted her game right around this time last year, and she's kept it at that high level long enough to make it seem a quirk of fate that she hasn't won a major.

This is an especially relevant fact to ponder on a day when three of Safina's countrywomen (Svetlana Kuznetsova, Nadia Petrova, and Elena Dementieva) lost in Madrid, while Safina once again advanced, She beat Li Na, who went into the match with 13 wins over Top 10 players and a 2-1 edge in matches with Safina. In other words, with all kinds of excuses in place for Safina if she felt like mailing one in, or if she was feeling the pressure of her station.

I'll be the first to admit that I've been as critical as anyone of Safina emerging as the official no. 1 on the WTA Tour, and I still have a problem embracing a no. 1 who hasn't won a Grand Slam event. It doesn't help that I don't much like Safina's game. But let's face it: Safina has taken that mantle of no. 1 and worn it like she deserves it, like she's earned it. And here's something else: given a choice of ways to earn the no. 1 ranking, Safina herself might not have wanted to get it quite the way she did, because of the skepticism it would engender in people like me. But that's how it worked out.

So there's been significant, distracting pressure on Safina these past few weeks to prove that she's a worthy no. 1, and she might have crumbled under it in any number of ways (including just plain trying too hard). But Safina's responded to the call with great character and maturity. Her attitude has really made Jelena Jankovic's defense of her year-end no. 1 ranking look that much more feeble, although I'm open to the idea that Jelena's biggest sin as the new no.1 was training too hard -  that is, wanting too much to be fit to defend her place in the new year. Can you say, "irony?"

Whatever the case, it's pretty clear that the level of play Safina first hit last year in Berlin has become  her default level. Meanwhile, Jankovic must rebuild her game, one split and one insane running get at a time. But this spring probably belongs to Safina. Her standard of play over the past few months is such that she'll have every reason going into a Grand Slam even with all the confidence that consistently winning tournaments can give you. And in the end, even a Grand Slam is just a tournament.