Mr. Livestrong himself, cancer survivor Lance Armstrong, again is facing allegations of cheating that could cost him his seven Tour de France titles.
Pitching great Roger Clemens was acquitted of perjury after he told Congress he never used performance-enhancing substances, yet no one save for the jury believes him — or cares — because they figure everyone lies in Congress.
Boxing star Manny Pacquiao was robbed of a decision and his championship, but the outrage is muted by the belief that fixing is standard operating procedure in boxing.
The hated Miami Heat, led by the despised LeBron James, won the NBA title, and Heat coach Erik Spoelstra said after the game he is a Pacquiao fan. I knew Bob Arum fixed the NBA Finals.
The New Orleans Saints — America’s darlings following Hurricane Katrina’s rampage in 2005 — have become America’s Most Wanted, a motorcycle gang charged with putting out paid hits on opponents.
I’ll Have Another had a chance to be horse racing’s first Triple Crown winner since 1978 but was pulled out of the Belmont Stakes at the last minute with an injury. Meanwhile, his trainer was suspended for the third time for using illegal performance-enhancing substances.
You sense a pattern here?
Bad times are all around us, and the one refuge we seek for relief — the arena of sports — is littered with chaos and corruption.
America needs a hero, whether it is on the playing field, in the ring or at the racetrack.
Not just any hero but one the country can rally behind. One without a positive drug test or a privileged career.
America needs a Seabiscuit.
America needs a Cinderella Man.
Seabiscuit was the undersized underdog who became the most celebrated horse in America, a winner who captured the hearts of the nation in the 1930s at a time when the country was down and out and looking for hope. His match race against War Admiral in 1938 was one of the legendary events of the era and has been celebrated in both books and film. “Seabiscuit” was nominated for an Academy Award in 2003.
This was a hero still making Americans feel good 65 years after his greatest triumph.
James Braddock was the Cinderella Man, the heavyweight contender who found himself getting in Depression-era bread lines to feed his family because of chronic hand injuries. He came back and stunningly beat Max Baer to win the heavyweight championship in 1935.
Braddock was called “Cinderella Man” by writer Damon Runyon for his fairy-tale story. Like Seabiscuit, Braddock gave a troubled and tumultuous America a reason to believe in something good. He was immortalized in a 2005 movie.
America needs that again.
Where is America’s sports hero? A nation turns its lonely eyes to who?
Examiner columnist Thom Loverro is the co-host of “The Sports Fix” from noon to 2 p.m. Monday through Friday on ESPN980 and espn980.com. Contact him at [email protected].
