It’s easy to be cynical in an era of scandal and fake news, but let’s not allow our faith in sports to be fractured just yet.
From Shohei Ohtani to Victor Wembanyama to Damar Hamlin, sport still delivers the authentically unexpected, which is something to celebrate.
“This game is rigged.”
“Can’t believe the script had that team winning.”
“Player X is freezing out Player Y because he’s facing him in fantasy this week.”
Most of us have expressed similar sentiments over the years about the sports we watch. In jest.
But Thursday’s shocking revelation that the FBI indicted more than 30 people allegedly linked to a gambling scandal tied to the NBA served to do exactly what pro sports leagues used to fear about any association with betting: rocking the public’s confidence in the integrity of the sports it consumes.
Should we be all that surprised? Really?
Warning alarms have blared since 2018, when the Supreme Court loosened regulations on sports wagering – opening the industry to states far afield from the formerly singular legal sports betting bastion that is Las Vegas. It wasn’t long after that when pro leagues like the NFL began doing what had previously been unthinkable (and taboo) − partnering with betting sites like FanDuel and DraftKings and even allowing sportsbooks to advertise in conjunction with their most premium content: games.
For years, we’ve been trying to parse authentic news from fake, while elected officials – and apparently even Justice Department lawyers at this point – wantonly lie. Many of us have become increasingly desensitized to it. Others actually embrace it.
How are we supposed to know if a pro player is shaving points? Or trafficking insider injury information? It’s not like players across the pro sports spectrum haven’t incurred suspensions in recent years for myriad violations, including betting on games involving their teams. It happens, the respective commissioner touts his league’s gambling guardrails, and everyone basically moves on.
Now the FBI, at a time when its own credibility is under fire, has stepped in to throw a fragmentary grenade into the NBA’s operation. Yet how much will fans care what Damon Jones or Miami Heat guard Terry Rozier or Portland Trail Blazers coach Chauncey Billups purportedly did a week from now? Or even tomorrow? How long before Adam Silver, if he wanted, could hire Vince McMahon as a creative consultant, and no one would blink? And what does it all matter if there’s a metaverse where the New York Jets are the babyface dynasty while the Kansas City Chiefs are the weekly tomato cans?
Easy as it is to be cynical, let’s not allow our faith in sports to be irreparably fractured just yet. There are too many talented athletes working too hard for championship glory – much less simply putting food on the table – and have too much integrity and honor to believe this is all a systemic ruse. (Not for nothing, there are also far too many incapable of keeping a secret this big for us to begin dismissing the veracity of what we see from the couch, press box, upper deck or sideline.)
And while LeBron James has somehow exceeded all the hype that’s been heaped on him for more than a quarter-century – even if Jones apparently profited from knowing how healthy he was – leagues that aren’t actually scripted had no room for would-be leading men like Tim Tebow, Johnny Manziel, Markelle Fultz or Darko Miličić, none lasting despite apparently emanating from central casting.
We should feel comforted that Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson was (is?) nearly incomparable as a professional wrestler but not good enough to play in the NFL − and apparently doesn’t have sufficient business acumen beyond making movies and tequila to make the UFL anything more than the fringe football league its forebears have always been.
Sports never have been, nor will be, a pure meritocracy – contracts, public relations, personalities and the like perpetually exert varying influences. Yet so much of the unparalleled excellence and unimaginable tragedy – not to mention the mundane Week 8 NFL game or Tuesday night NBA contest – are too compelling to be authored by some athletic puppet master. Or sullied by shysters. Not when you see what Shohei Ohtani and George Springer just managed in order to create their World Series matchup. Not when you see the New York Giants find a way to lose an 18-point lead in the final six minutes of a game. Not when you see a 7-foot-5, 245-pound player like Victor Wembanyama run the break … unless he decides to pull up and pop a three. Not when Damar Hamlin nearly dies on a football field before he and his career are revived.
Don’t tell me those moments were or could be orchestrated. Our sports aren’t the WWE writ large (not that wrestling’s ardent fans would care).
May they never be.
