"Choke" On This! Tiger Woods and Badger Suspensions

I wanted to be a sportswriter, English teacher and coach.

The more I see of sports journalism today, the more glad I am that a different path presented itself.

First, the term "sports journalism" should rarely be used. Frank DeFord, Rick Reilly, David Feherty and a few others "get it," and understand that the performers they cover play their games at a level that most folks simply can't relate to, and when I say "most" I mean all but one-tenth of one-tenth of one percent of anyone who's ever played whichever game is in question.

Jay Moriarti and others are offering their blogs, quips and shots this morning that Tiger Woods "choked."

I might throw up.

The same dorks say the Buffalo Bills choked. Granted making four consecutive Super Bowls is pretty rarefied air, but some dope who's never been able to run 40-yards, let alone a 40-yard-dash in under 5 seconds thinks he's qualified to call them "chokers." Some just say the Bills' kicker choked. These are the same guys who can't kick their dogs -- but who probably try -- out of frustration for the fact that they are wanna-be's who look for any angle to drag people down to make themselves feel better.

Phil Mickelson is not a choker. Greg Norman is not a choker. Bill Buckner is not a choker. And, while I am not a huge fan of one Eldrick "Tiger" Woods, I can guaran-danged-tee you he did not choke away the 91st PGA Championship yesterday. Y.E. Yang shot the best score of the day. He chipped in from off the green for an eagle. He hit a miraculous shot on 18, and then calmly rolled in the putt for a three-shot win over the world's #1 player. Tiger lost. He didn't choke. Y. E. Yang won. He played better. Tiger is still the #1 player in the world, and the favorite to win the FedEx Cup and any tournament he enters. He just lost once. End of story.

At what point did we lose sight of the fact that sometimes people win because they deserve to? At what point did we start considering sports figures to be some type of Messiahs and find it necessary to pontificate on their every swing, step, throw or tackle as if the world hung in the balance?

At what point did we fall out of touch with the idea that in sports, life and business, that someone wins and someone loses, and that the result doesn't, outside the context of that game or match, make them a winner or a loser?

At what point did we start to teach kids, young athletes in particular, that they're somehow above the rules and that they're entitled to the best of everything -- a condition that I see as an extension of the whole out-of-balance / out-of-context focus from people who report on and write about sports?

And, unfortunately, too many people apply the same flawed thinking to the raising of their kids.

Two University of Wisconsin football players got suspended last week, and their parents are running to the AD, hiring lawyers and trying to force their kids' way back on the team. One of the fathers made some smart-ass remark about "Maybe this is how they do it in Iowa..." (Coach Bielema began his career at Iowa, and still wears a Hawkeye tattoo...). My black-and-gold loyalties made me consider that the dad in question might be an idiot, but what proved the theory to me was the fact that he's throwing a fit to get his kid put back in to an organization that wanted him out, at least for the time being.

Wisconsin's liberal leanings permeate most of the activities in the state. Our 6-year-old played on a baseball team this year where there were no "outs," no score was kept and no matter how far you hit the ball, you could only advance one base. "We don't want the less talented kids to get their feelings hurt," one of the program organizers told me.

That program organizer "choked." The parents of the Badger football players are choking, and if the attorneys take this case, they'll be choking. If athletic staff at UW caves in and forces the team to take back two guys that have been suspended because they didn't do what's expected of everyone else on the team, then they'll be choking, too.

Now, if the two players say, "We screwed up. We'll take our lumps and try to earn our way back on the team," then they start to swing the universe back in to balance. Those guys will grow up a little bit this summer, and they'll be better prepared for the real world. Heck, if they do that, I know of a company that likes to hire people with that kind of maturity, just in case their dads can't sue to get them in to the NFL.

Iowa

Last week I was back in Iowa for a day or so. Somehow, no matter how long I live away, it will always be "home."

Granted my trip was to deliver a eulogy for a beloved uncle who, at 86, succumbed to cancer and re-joined his wife, daughter and son-in-law, as well as my parents and other family members in Heaven, but still, I was home.

There was a time when weddings brought us together. Festive but hectic times that seemed to pass too quickly, and involve too much hub-bub. Now, funerals are the gathering call, and they're coming too quickly. Still, the pace at times like these allow us to talk; to be together and to celebrate the lives that many of us left in a hurry, but that some of us miss more each day. Yeah, I was home.

It's been dang near 30 years, but most of what I saw was as it should be -- a lot like it was 30 years ago. The only big change was that the highway through town has been replaced by a highway around town. But all the locally-operated stores had started to disappear when the big box stores came in, anyway.

My Little League coach, who runs the funeral home, is still the same great guy he was when I was ten-years-old. My basketball coach sounds the same. The farm looks the same; taller trees, worn buildings, but it's all there, right where it should be. My sister and brother-in-law were there, and all my cousins. Through the tears of loss, there was the comfort of being together. Of being home.

It's funny how I didn't worry about a bank failing, or about a revenue forecast, or about expense measures while I was there. I worried about the great-grandchildren, who didn't understand why "Papa" had died, but I also relished in their ability to bounce back, and the wide-eyed wonder that kids that age exhibit at some things we think are routine. It's funny how I didn't keep reaching for the BlackBerry, and how we sat up Friday night until 2 AM talking about family stuff, not once thinking, "Man! I gotta get to bed so I can be at the office by 6:00!"

There are places on this earth that order is the rule, and where comfort is the standard condition. There are places on this earth where the people are as good and honest and trustworthy as the day is long. There are places on this earth that just feel "right."

Iowa is one of them.

It was good to be home.