In a simpler time, our favorite athletes played for the same team for most of their careers.  Of course Roger Maris was shuffled off to St. Louis to quietly diminish, and the Babe wobbled out in Brooklyn, but for the shelf life of their magnificence, they served consistently in  glorious Yankee pinstripes.  Jim Brown debutted and hastily retired from the once-proud Browns.  Al Kaline will always be a Tiger and Brooks Robinson will always be an Oriole.  George Mikan will always be a Laker either in Minneapolis or Los Angeles.

    The only consistent symbol representing today`s athlete is the $ sign!  A kid`s only hope is to root for the uniform!  Rarely is there a chance that your favorite player will stay put.  Or out of jail.  Or off drugs.  Or out of the closet.

   Was it a simpler time because athletes in the public eye held themselves to a higher moral standard?  Or is it simply the intrusive and unforgiving eye of the modern media revealing pecadilloes that went unreported years ago?  No doubt, today`s press hounds would never have allowed Mickey Mantle to slip quietly into alcoholism.  Yesterday`s athletes certainly had their share of frailty, but how do they compare to today`s athlete?

   My review of the moral turpitude infecting the modern athletic scene falls into several distinct categories:

    The Cheaters.  Bubblehead Barry Bonds and the Enhancers for instance.  How did his head get that big?  Does human growth hormone stimulate the ego?

      The Reprobates.  I know the Bambino was known to play loose and get a little wild now and then, but how does that compare to someone like Steve Howe? Howe put  a whole new twist on the concept of rehabbing!

       The Thugs.  Guys like Jamal and Ray Lewis are quasi-criminals, while guys like Jose Canseco and Allen Iverson just skirt around on the edges of the law. 

     The Morons.  There are a passel of hebetudes out there who can barely tie their shoelaces together,  yet they make it onto the pro scene anyway.  Time and again, agents, owners and promoters attempt to steer them into the athletic arena, hoping their immense physical talents can overcome their inability to understand what it takes to fit into sporting society.    Maurice Clarett, Ron Artest and Ricky Williams immediately come to mind.

  See my blog over the next few days for an in depth look at what`s left for our kids to look up to (or down at!)

I can`t be the only member of the "Anybody but Tiger" club!   Just before the Master`s Golf Tournament I was asked by a friend:  "Who do you want to see win the Masters?"  My reflexive response provides the title to my first blog entry. 

 One of my first sports heroes, Wilt Chamberlain ,claimed that "Nobody roots for Goliath." But its not simply the fact of Tiger`s superior physical ability that makes him such an anti-hero for many fans.

  Golf, for me,  has always been about class and a sense of fair play and respect for one`s opponents.  With the rabid sports writers in tow, every tournament seems to be about Tiger, regardless of his position in the field.   Tiger`s post round analysis always seems to dwell on what he could have done to win, without offering kudos to the player who beat him.

   Tiger simply doesn`t show the rest of the Tour players the respect they deserve nor does he approach the hallowed Nicklaus major tournaments win record with the humility and aplomb one would expect from a player who cares about the game.  Compare his response to winning a major to that of Ben Crehshaw, for instance.

    And Tiger has played the race card a time or two.  Most notably, when he helped drive the bus over Fuzzy Zoeller over a joke made regarding the Master`s dinner selection.  Tiger could have been supportive, but chose to leave ol` Fuzzy hanging  instead.

  Needless to say, I will be rooting for Phil Mickelson, or Davis Love III or Freddy Couples or anybody else but Tiger in the remaining major tournaments this year!